My Gift To You

Four: I Never Liked You Anyway

“Can you at least give me a ride?” Billy heard a boy ask exasperated, standing next to a rundown car and looking into it at the driver. “I’ve got an hour before dinner and I don’t think that I can make it if I walk...”

Billy was standing by the bike corral, eavesdropping in on a conversation. He was also biting down on his bottom lip, no doubt that if he didn’t stop he would bite clean through it. He had a clear view into the car and to what was going on, which he didn’t like.

Benji rolled his eyes, both hands on the steering wheel and eyes on the street ahead. “Don’t you have anything better to do than follow me around, trying to suck my dick?” He asked dryly, nowhere near up to unlocking the doors.

The skinny blonde lowered his head. “Please, Benji? You won’t be going out of your way or anything. It’s not my fault I have band practice at the end of the day.”

“No, but you could not try to hang all over me and call your Mom for a ride home.” He replied, tightening his grip on the wheel. “You can walk.”

“But—”

“Enough with the GodDamn buts!” Benji yelled, turning his head to look at the boy. “I’m not about to waste gas driving a fudge packer like you home, you got it, Collin? Until you learn how to drive use your legs, God didn’t create ‘em for nothing.”

Billy started to walk forward, toward the scene, and kept deathly quiet. His ears were burning as he tried to hear everything that was going on.

The boy sniffed, obviously trying to hold back tears.

“Fuck me.” Benji groaned quietly, more annoyed than he was before. “And now you’re going to cry? I’m not driving you home, you understand me?”

“Why?” The boy muscled out. “Why do you have to be such an ass, Benji?”

“Everyone knows you love this ass, Collin.” He stated coolly. “Besides, I’m giving someone else a ride home — yo, Billy!”

If it was possible for his heart to stop beating and for him to still be alive, that’s what would have happened to Billy. He looked up from his shoes slowly, at a complete loss for words, and walked over to the car (despite Joel’s earlier words, Billy wasn’t about to take his chances with Benji if he, Billy, didn’t do what he said).

“There you are, man.” Benji said kindly. “I was worried about you. Were you pissing the contents of the Atlantic in the bathroom, or what?” He leaned over and unlocked the passenger side door, opening it for Billy before getting back into his previous position.

“Sorry. I had too many drinks at lunch, I guess.” Billy replied, shuffling past the crying boy and climbing into the car. He slammed the door shut and without any warning, Benji started the car and sped off.

Benji turned on the radio, a local rock station snaking softly through the speakers. “Where do you live?”

“Go straight, turn left. Maple Street. It’s near the—”

“Ghetto.” Benji nodded. “It’s on my way. Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

Billy struggled with his seat belt. “Yeah.”

He looked over quickly. “You have to lift up and tug.”

“Lift up and...” Billy mumbled, lifting the seat belt strap up and tugging. It only slacked until half way before it stuck again, causing Billy to pull on it furiously; he wasn’t about to travel in a speeding car with Benji without a seat belt on.

“No, no. Lift the thing up until it can’t no more, then tug.”

Billy did as he was told, but it still didn’t work.

“You’re hopeless.” Benji pulled the car over and sighed. He leaned over and took the strap from Billy, letting go of it until the clasp hit the hole of the container again. “Lift.” He took the clasp and held it up. “And tug.” He gave the thing one swift tug and the seat belt strap came flying out of its home, letting Benji easily take the clasp and click it into the holder by Billy’s thigh, accidentally grazing it with his hand. “There. Any idiot can get it right the first time. You really need to listen, Martin.”

He watched Benji sit upright again and pull back into the road. He was trying to contain himself, trying not to make such a big deal over something that Benji might not have done with a conscious effort. It was stupid, but his skin was tingling in the trail Benji’s hand took across Billy’s jeans.

There were no other words between the two until Benji slowly went down Maple Street. “Which one?”

“The blue one... with the red shutters.”

Benji pulled over in front of the house. “Here you are, and don’t think you’ll ever get a ride in this car again.”

“... Thanks for the ride, even if it was to get you out of something.” Billy opened the door and got out of the car. He shut the door and started across the lawn to the front door, not prepared for what might happen when he got inside.

-

He was banished to his room without dinner because of his detention, but Billy knew that in fifteen minutes (or less) his Mother would knock on the attic door with a bowl of cold-dinner-samples. When he told his Mom why he was late, she was screaming so loud that only dogs could have heard her voice... and telling her that he got a ride home from the same kid who landed him in detention didn’t help either. The vein in the woman’s forehead was near bursting and Sarah was laughing so hard that her food kept falling from her fork. It didn’t seem that amusing to Billy, so he gladly went up to his room.

The noises from the street and neighboring yards filled the room, annoying Billy greatly but he needed the vent window open all the way to get the musty smell to dissipate. He was having trouble concentrating on the tabs to a song he needed to memorize, the occasional scream from a little girl ripping at his ears. “Is she being murdered or something?” He questioned, turning off his amp and tossing his guitar on a beaten up recliner. Walking across the space to the round, red vent window he looked out and saw a little girl being chased by another girl in the neighbor’s side yard. “Hey! Do you mind not screaming? Some of us have a gig soon and need to practice our fucking songs!”

They stopped dead in their tracks, scared shitless and thinking that the voice was God or something. Looking up toward Billy, the smaller girl put her hands on her hips. “You kiss your mama with that mouth?”

“Yeah, I do. Now shut up or go play inside! I’m in no fucking mood to deal with you!” Billy yelled, turning around and starting toward his bed. He flopped down on his back, staring up at the collage of band posters on the ceiling. “Why does this have to happen to me? I fall for people too easily, people who I don’t stand a chance with.”