How to be a dude

Chapter 2

"No. No way, nuh uh. It won't work Ben." I said, walking into my bedroom and shutting the door behind me.

"Please? Just think about it. Pretty, pretty please?" He begged through the door.

"No! Leave me alone!" I shouted, slipping into my pyjamas.

"Come on Carys, I'm your brother! You only have one of those."

"And right now I wish I didn't have one." I retorted.

"Think of all the things I've ever done for you." Ben whimpered.

"Yeah, like that time you didn't bother warning me about the dog poo and everyone was whispering about me all day. Good reason to make me change my mind Ben." I scoffed, flicking open an old, battered magazine.

"Fine, if you don't do it I'll tell everyone about the time you wet yourself when we were watching teletubbies." He threatened.

"And I will tell everyone about your Anne Robinson obsession."

There was a pause, and I could almost hear screws turning in Ben's head. Eventually he managed to think of something to say.

"Neil Smith goes to my college."

I flung the magazine away and sat up straight.

"Neil Smith?" I asked, walking over to the door.

Neil Smith. How to explain him. His hair is lovely and blonde, and his blue eyes just make me melt. I once witnessed him bring a puppy back to life... from smiling. Okay, Yes, the puppy was just asleep, and he might of smiled after the puppy woke up, but that's beside the point. And do you want to know the best bit? He's a real surfer dude with a six pack to match. I haven't actually ever spoken to him, but I'm sure once I do, he will realise what he's been missing.

"Yup." Ben replied, I could just picture him smiling to himself.

"Explain." I opened the door and looked my brother right in the eye.

//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\

"Okay, so Gareth knows this great guy who can make anyone look like anyone. So basically we get you dressed up like me and then we'll send you off to boarding school and ta-daa!" Ben did some little jazz hands to emphasis his point.

We were sitting in raised part of the little kitchen on the old battered stools eating marshmellows and custard. No, we're not weird, we've just always done it since we were about five. The kitchen was pretty small and so dark I wondered how mum ever managed to cook in here. Actually, that was probabley the reason why it was so dark in here, mum never cooked.

"Wont people realise you look a bit different?" I asked, wiping my hands on the stool.

"Nope." Ben said, popping the 'p'.

"Why? Didn't they meet you at the inset day thing?"

"Nope." He replied, exactly the same.

I nodded for him to continue, but when he just sat there I asked "And why didn't they meet you at the inset day thing?"

"Because I wasn't there." Yet again Ben just left me hanging on, waiting for a continuation he wasn't going to give.

"And why weren't you at the inset day?"

"Beccause..." He dwindled off, dipping a pink marshmallow in the custard.

"Because...?" I urged him on, doing the same before plopping it in my mouth.

"We were at a gig." He finally said as I sighed a sigh of relief.

"See that wasn't that hard was it?" I patted him on the head and went back to my custard.

"What wasn't?" He asked, genuinly, not just to wind me up.

"Never mind. Back to the point, when am I going to be you?"

"Next... week?"

"Ben! How am I supposed to sort everything out by then?" I moaned.

"Well, I've already worked out a story."

"That is?" I asked sourly.

"You have malaria, or cancer, one of the two." He shrugged.

"And you seriously think this is going to work?"

"Yeah. Or I wouldn't of suggested it, would I?" Ben mocked.

"No, we need something more believable...like I've been given an offer for.. dancing and then I can come back and just say it fell through." I suggested.

"Still prefer the idea of you having cancer." He grumbled.

"So when are we going to see this guy Gareth knows?"

"Sunday."

"But sunday's the day before I have to go off, can't he do it earlier?" I asked.

"No, because otherwise he'd of said to come in earlier." Ben said, pushing his now empty plate forwards and heading upstairs. "Night."

"Night." I called up after him, pulling my phone out and bringing up contacts.

I flicked down to Dad and paused before pressing the green number.

"Hello?" A female voice, that was definatley not my dad, replied.

"Oh, Hello. It's Carys, I was wondering if I could speak to my dad." I asked, guessing this was another one of dad's fancy's.

"Sure, hold on one sec hun." I heard her cover the mouth piece. "It's your daughter sweetie."

"Carys?" I heard him ask her.

"I think so sweetie." She replied, still covering the mouthpiece.

"Hand it over." There was a rustling as, presumably, the phone was passed over. "Carys?"

"Hi dad. I just wanted to call to say hi." I stutterd.

"And now you've said it, anything else?." He said gruffily, obviously wanting to get back to woman.

"Well, Ben's going off to New York with his band. He said it's going to help with his career." I told him.

"Really? My Bennie?" I knew he'd want to talk about his pride and glory. "Can I talk to him?"

"No, dad. He's gone to bed." I replied, feeling my eyes water up.

"Oh, well...." He paused."How, are..you?"

"I'm fine dad." I replied, knowing he didn't really care about me, he was just putting on a show for his new woman. He always did this, played the familiy man, yet never got me a birthday present, just a card. In fact, most of the time, my cards off dad were just signed in a scruffy style of my mum's.

"Bye then." He said shortly, then hung up.

"Just fine dad, absolutley great." I whispered to myself.