How To Drive Away

Chapter One

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                                                 ✎  K Y L I E ✎

"You need to learn to listen to Agatha," I say to Ben as I flip through his CD booklet. I can basically feel him roll his eyes. "I'm serious, Ben. She's like a human, okay? Her sounds mean things."

"So, I need to learn Agatha's language?" I can hear his sarcastic tone in the question.

"Yes, you do." I pick a CD and slip it into the player. Ben glances over at me.

"What CD did you pick?" I shake my head, not wanting to tell him.

Ben I-Have-A-Stick-Lodged-Up-My-Ass Byrne has been lodged in my life since before I can remember. Little shit-head knows almost all there is to know about me, and I like to think I know all there is to know about him too. But, seeing this CD in his booklet was unexpected and, now, I'm not sure I know everything there is to know about my dear, annoying Ben.

Agatha takes a moment to play the music, but finally, she does. Lemonade Mouth blares in the car and I watch as Ben's eyes get huge. He shakes his head in disbelief and stops the music.

"Hey! I was listening to that!" I scream, faking my horror. He shrugs. 

"Why would you want to listen to that anyway?"

"Why would you own it?" Ben does not blush in his cheeks like most people. No, Ben, much to my amusement, tends to blush on his ears and his upper chest. He gets all red and looks like some kind of screwed up monkey with red ears. It's hilarious - absolutely perfect. In that moment, his ears get that incredible red color and I burst out laughing. Instinctively, his hand rushes to cover his left ear, while his other hand stays on the wheel.

"I - um, it wasn't me, Kylie, okay?" I laugh a little harder (something I did not think possible). He sighs and lets go of his ear, focusing back on the road.

"Then who was it, Ben?" I say, a challenging tone in my voice.

He hesitates. "My mother?" He knows I know he's lying. I laugh.

"Your mom hasn't used a TV in like twenty years. She hates it." Ben shrugs.

"She heard the songs."

"Where?"

He groans as Agatha sputters a little. "Damn car," He mutters, before focusing back on the conversation. "A friend."

I shake my head. "Just give up, Ben."

He does not answer. He does not seem amused.

 ☢ ☢ ☢

If someone came up to me and asked me what Ben's worst quality was, I'd, first, really enjoy the question (who doesn't love talking about Ben's flaws?), second, go through all of his flaws (this would take a while but time goes by fast when you're enjoying yourself, right?), and, finally, decide on Ben's singing voice.

Oh, Lawdy Jesus above must've been pretty angry the day he was deciding what Ben would sing like, because - let me tell you - Ben could kill things with that voice. He really could. When we were like four years old, we used to tease each other a lot (still do) and when I'd go too far and he'd get really mad, I swear that little boy would look me straight in the eye with the most serious face and say, "I'll sing, Kylie. I will!"

And I would cry.

That's how bad he sings. Even at four years old, we were aware of what his curse was. I once heard his father say that they didn't like telling him that Practice Makes Perfect because they were afraid he'd pursue his dream of becoming a rockstar (a whole different story that is definitely worth telling) and practice singing all the time. His father said, "I don't think I could take it."