Flirting With Love

by Clara Stone

  “When was the last time it’s been cleaned?”

  My dad’s smirk turns into a full grin, exposing his slightly crooked teeth, which is something he rarely does. Mom says he’s embarrassed by his top teeth. When he was about my age, he was told that the unevenness wasn’t enough for braces. I have his mouth, so my mom says, but I don’t mind it as much as he does.

  “Baby girl, there’s at least a full load of work clothes between your brother and me in the back cab,” he says with hearty laugh.

  I scrunch my nose, wrapping the rubber band around the end of my braid. I know what the smell of their dirty work clothes smells like, and it’s not pleasant.

  “No thanks, keep your money today, I’m goin’ muddin’.” I leave my parents chuckling in the kitchen as I dart out the backdoor, only stopping to step into my boots and tie the laces.

  Mom pokes her head out the door, “Take mine.” Her green eyes twinkle with mischief. “Your brother and Billy took his and yours out about ten minutes ago. If you hurry, you might catch them. Give Greg hell and see to it that he’s dirtier than you.”

  “You know he’ll be covered without my help,” I remind her as I take the key from her extended palm.

  “I’ll leave towels and the hose out. Just be sure to unhook it and hang it in the garage before you leave for the game. The weatherman said the temperature is supposed to dip low tonight,” she orders as I start backing my way out the door. “Be careful!” she yells, her concern seeping into her tone.

  “I will! Bye, Ma!” I let the door clang shut and run for the garage, only slipping once as I dodge around Greg’s car. Bursting through the rickety wooden door, paint chips skitter to the cement floor. I jog around Dad’s black ATV to Mom’s forest green one.

  Sawdust and grease invade my senses. It’s one of my favorite scents. I smile widely in happiness and anticipation.

  After checking to make sure the gas tank is full, I snap the latch behind the seat and pop it off before spinning to grab the WD-40 from the workbench. I do a quick once-over of the radiator and airbox, making sure everything is sealed and then lube all the necessary parts.

  Finally, after several long minutes of prepping for mud, I fire the engine and take off for the field across the street.

  Years ago, my oldest brothers and my dad turned the grassy field across the street into the perfect muddin’ field. They spent all their free time there, and Dad rented a backhoe to help clear it out and flatten areas. They even made one hole with a launching ramp on it, mostly because one of my brothers enjoyed doing tricks on his dirt bike more than muddin’.

  I round the tree line and spot my brother and his friend, Billy. With the wind pushing the loose hair that fell from my braid out of my face, I fly across the field, flinging a spray of mud behind me.

  Just ahead, my brother stands on his 4-wheeler, rocking and wiggling, trying to get unstuck. His height and muscle give him a slight advantage, and he can usually stop from stalling out, but I don’t think he’ll be able to muscle his weight out of this one.

  Billy sits off to the side, laughing, his rust red and torn hat shielding his eyes as he throws his head back. Billy is shorter than my brother by nearly a foot, only an inch or two taller than my five foot three inch frame. But Billy is probably just as strong as my brother, if not stronger.

  I test the dip in the field, not exactly smart on my part, but I gotta get Greg at least once if this is his stopping point.

  Getting closer to my almost stalled brother, I head straight for him. I turn the bar and lean into the curve, hoping to keep my momentum, I rev at the same time.

  “Damn you, Audrey!” My brother garbles through the mud that I just kicked at him.

  I laugh and steer further away, enjoying the spray of the mud and the wind in my face.

  “Audrey Hepburn!” Billy wails behind me. “Dahling, wait up!”

  I roll my eyes as I slow down. “Billy Madison? That you?”

  He grins. “Billy got the girl he wanted at the end of that movie.”

  I laugh. “This is true.”

  This is what Billy does. He teases me relentlessly because my parents named me after Audrey Hepburn. My parents, more my mom, love Audrey Hepburn. In fact, my brothers were even named for her family as well. My oldest brothers, twins, are named for Audrey’s children, Sean and Luca, and Greg was named after her lifelong friend, Gregory Peck.

  Since my mom mentioned this fact a few years ago, Billy has done nothing but crack jokes. It’s not even that I look or even act like her in any way. She was a beautiful woman; tall, slender, dark hair, and from what my dad says, “She could make anything a beautiful class of sexy.” I’m nearest to her opposite. I’m short, have light brown hair, and I’m “cute” Or so I’m told. “Aw, Audrey, you look so cute and innocent.” It’s annoying and probably not something Audrey Hepburn was ever told. Although, someone could’ve told her that, but it’s not like I would know.

  Even with the differences, it doesn’t stop Billy from teasing me. So in return, I find as many “Billy” actors, movies, and quotes that I can find just to get back at him.

  “How’s Sarah these days?” I ask him about his girlfriend.

  “She’s alright I guess, filling out applications for college and what not,” he says, circling me and spraying mud in my direction.

  I rev when he’s directly behind me to pay him back.

  “So she kicks you out because you distract her?” I turn toward him and laugh, seeing the mud splashed across his mouth, clinging to his beard.

  He pulls a blue and white handkerchief from his back pocket and wipes his round face. “Well, there is that, and she knows I’m not goin’ to college. I’ve got my career already.”

  Billy, Greg, and my dad are masons. It’s a hard, laboring job that sometimes pulls them away from home and winter months are always the hardest, but it’s something they all love and keeps them active and healthy. My mom does Yoga, Pilates, and Zumba weekly. She says she has to stay fit like Dad, and at her age, it’s harder to keep fit, especially in her line of work. She’s a secretary and a sports photographer for the Susquehanna Daily Record.

  “Is she staying around here?” I ask, hoping that she does. Sarah is a gorgeous blonde, cheerleader type of person, but she’s just like me and would choose mud over makeup any day. She’s the only girl I know who I can shop with, though I still attempt shopping with my fashionista friend, Alice, and allow the torture from time to time. Sarah’s hippy style matches my own, and she can throw a punch to keep Billy from being a dumb boy when she has to.

  Billy stuffs his handkerchief in his back pocket. “She hasn’t decided. She said she’s waiting to hear back from colleges before deciding where to go. Doesn’t want to be disappointed.” He drives my ATV close to my mom’s, gently pushing the front tire.

  That sounds like her, but I’m willing to bet she’s got one college picked that she’d go to no matter how many other colleges accepted her. “What if she goes to a college across the country?” I ask, shifting directions to run side by side, back to where Greg is still stuck in the mud. He’s off the seat and trying to push the backend to shove out of the mud.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we get that news, but I don’t think she’ll go that far. Even if she does, she’s the only one for me.” He shrugs a thick shoulder as we veer to the left near the still grassy ground.

  I smile at his promise. They’ve been together for as long as I can remember. Everyone thought Billy would leave her when he graduated last year, but he didn’t. I have to admit that even I was surprised. He and Sarah are such an unlikely pair but maybe that’s what makes them special. They don’t have an easy relationship; Billy is Billy. He’s hardheaded and has the temper of a Papa Bear who’s protecting his cubs. She’s hotheaded and demanding. But they make it work.

  “Greg, man. You always get stuck first,” Billy teases as he parks in a grassy patch.

  “Ain’t my fault,” he mutters as he tries once more, sho
ving on his own.

  “Did you do the checks like Dad taught us?” I ask, parking next to Billy.

  He grunts with the force of his shove, sinking deeper in the mud, standing knee deep in the muddy pit. “I swear I did,” he says gruffly, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, smearing more mud on his face.

  Billy laughs. “I watched you, you didn’t do squat. You even teased me for checkin’ Audrey’s and “wasting time.” Audrey would kick my ass if I got hers stuck.”

  “No matter how much you check there’s still a chance of getting stuck,” Greg argues.

  I chuckle at them. Both would be right, but Dad taught us to take care of our vehicles. “Come on, let’s get you unstuck,” I cheer as I wade through the sloppy mud.

  “Love it when girls get dirty!” Billy shouts, jumping into the mud bog.

  “That girl is my sister, prick,” Greg sneers, flinging a gob of mud at him.

  Billy dodges the mud wad. “No shit, Sherlock. Scoot over, let’s get your baby free.”

  I use Greg’s arm to help get me closer to the front of his ATV where I start digging mud away from the tires. “And hurry up! I gotta go to Riley’s game in a few hours!” I yell, trying to hustle them. If these dorks make me late, someone will take my favorite seat - right behind home bench in the center.