Why the Straight One? | Book 1 | bxb

Entry 24 - "You Sound Like My Dad!"

"No, I'm serious. I have an irrational fear of bees."

"But why though? I think bees are cute."

"Cute!" I looked at him in surprise, and he scowled back.

"Look at the road." I turned quickly to look back at the road in front of me, but continued talking.

"First off, I didn't think you thought anything was cute."

"Wow, I'm not a complete asshole! Even I think some things are cute."

"Secondly, bees are not cute. Have you seen wasps?"

"I'm not talking about wasps. I'm talking about honeybees or bumblebees."

"Any kind of bee is scary. They just buzz around and ugh." I shivered an he shot me another warning glare.

"With the way you are swerving, I'm almost thinking I should have driven."

"I drive exceptionally well, thank you very much! And you aren't driving because you said your head hurt too much."

"Well, it did."

"Does it still?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm still driving, and you will keep your complaining to yourself."

"I'm not complaining, just stating the facts."

He muttered to himself, leaning his chair back and covering his head with his hands.

"C'mon, you haven't told me something you're scared of. This game requires two people, especially with three hours left to this drive."

"I will in a minute, but only after I know why you are so scared of bees."

"Do I have to have a reason?" He shrugged.

"No, but most people have a reason for being scared of something."

"Fine, if you must know. When I was eight years old I was over at a neighbors house. They had this rope swing, and so a bunch of us took turns swinging on it."

I paused, and before I could speak again, Thomas cut in.

"Thus explaining why bees terrify you. Good story, Alex."

"I wasn't done."

"The road, Alex."

"You sound like my dad! Seriously, next time we stop you can drive and I'll constantly tell you what you are doing wrong."

"Alright, I won't say anything next time. Just remember that our lives are in your hands."

"I'll remember. Now, to finish my story. While swinging at my neighbors, as wasp flew up my pant leg and stung me repeatedly. By the time my dad killed it, it had stung me at least twenty times. I haven't looked at a bee the same way since."

"Damn. I almost don't want to tell mine now."

"Why, because you can't compare to my badass seven year old self?"

"Something like that." He laughed, and crossed his feet on the dash.

"Well, give it a go anyways. What are you most afraid of?"

"Okay, probably clowns."

"Clowns? What's so scary about them?"

"Are you kidding me? Have you see It?"