“Shit!” I screamed at my watch, realizing that I now had only 20 minutes to get to class.

I ran around my apartment in a wild frenzy, making sure to grab all my books, and then bolted out to my car. I peeled out of the parking lot, definitely doing a number on my tires, and sped 90 in a 65 the whole way to UCLA. That is until I saw the flashing lights in my rearview mirror.

“This can’t be happening” I yelled angrily, slamming my hands on my steering wheel, letting my temper get the best of me. I was definitely going to be late for class.

After a few minutes had passed, a female officer strolled up to my window.

“License and registration” She demanded.

Trying hard to hide my frustration, I pulled the paperwork out of my dashboard and handed it to the officer. I used the time she was looking over my registration to admire her beauty.

Damn she’s good looking, I thought to myself, temporarily causing me to forget all about the fact that I was about to be late for class.

She had the prettiest chocolate brown eyes and her dark curly hair was pulled up in a loose ponytail, allowing it to flow slightly in the breeze. For some reason she looked vaguely familiar.

“Do you know how fast you were going miss?” She asked, snapping me back to reality.

“70. Maybe a little higher.” I responded casually, trying hard to mask my unsettled nerves.

“Try like 90.” She told me unmoved by my answer.

“Oh I’m sorry, I wasn’t intentionally speeding. It’s just I was running late to one of my classes at UCLA and bam there you were. I’m so stressed out this morning that my speed must have just slipped my mind.” I told her honestly, hoping she’d cut me a break.

“I went to UCLA.” The officer said, giving me a smile and then handed me back my license and registration. “The Criminal Justice Program is great there. How do you like it so far?”

Was she really trying to start up a conversation with me right here in the middle of the highway? I wondered in disbelief.

“I love it. I’m in the film department and the reason I was in such a hurry is because my professor, Mr. Adams, is such an ass h-”

“Say no more.” The older brunette said, cutting me off. “I’ve dealt with Mr. Adams before, so I completely understand.” The officer then took the speeding ticket in her hand and ripped it up, while I just sat there in relief at the sight before me. “Go along now. You don’t want to be late. Just watch your speed alright?” She said, giving me a look that read don’t ever let me catch you speeding again. I smiled, giving her a nod of understanding, and then turned on my car.

“Thank you Officer…” I said trailing off as I looked for a name tag on her uniform.

“Officer Davies. And you’re welcome Spencer.” She responded, giving me a quick wink before turning away from my window.

I watched as the brunette headed down the side of the highway back to her car.

“Davies huh?” I spoke her name, it leaving a familiar sensation on my tongue.

Was I experiencing déjà vu? I pondered to myself.  At first glance this Davies girl was just another familiar stranger, but my heart told me differently. It told me I knew her, that she wasn’t just another passerby, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

Thinking it would be best to get to class before all this trying to remember stuff gave me a head ache; I pulled away from the side of the highway and finished the rest of the drive to UCLA.