We're Almost There

12. Two Words: Plastic Surgery.

Twelve

Kyle

Getting a call from Kenzie asking if he could pick her up, was the highlight of Kyle's forever.

The conversation was simple.

Him: Hey Kenzie. What's up?

Her: Not much, Ky. I just had a question.

Him: What would that be darling?

Her: Oh! So forward! Anyway, I need a ride home from Erin's. And you'd be perfect. You are perfect.

Him: I'll be there in fifteen.

Well... that's how it went in his head. The real conversation was kind of different.

Him: Um... hi. Who's this?

Her: It's Kenzie.

Him: Oh! How did I not know that? Haha, sorry. Um so... wh-what's up?

Her: Well I need a favour and I couldn't think of anyone else...

Him: Absolutely! I'll do anything you want. Damn, that sounded bad, I-I mean yeah, sure, I'll do you a favour.

Her: Uh, thanks! I'm at Erin's and I need a ride home. I knew you had a car...

Him: I'll drive you! I'll be there in like... I don't know. My car is really shitty. Sorry, I didn't mean to swear, it just kinda came out. I'm sorry. I'll be there soon. Wait where does she live?

Kenzie told him the address and he was stupid enough to hang up right after without even saying 'okay'.

He decided he'd Google later if whatever was wrong with him was a sickness and if there was any treatment.

"Okay," Kyle said, combing his hands through his hair. "How do I look?"

"Crazy," Chance replied.

Kyle sighed. "Should I change my shirt?" He tugged at the bottom of his short sleeved button down.

Chance snorted. "Your outfit's fine. It's your face that's messed up."

"Uh-huh, how do you figure?"

"Well," Chance said, "everyone needs a rough draft," he gestured to Kyle, "before the final copy." Chance smiled brightly, showing off his perfectly straight teeth.

Kyle smiled widely in the mirror. His teeth were crooked, not too bad, but he looked like he had tried to chew a brick once or twice.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this," Kyle said, "but do you have any advice?"

"Two words," Chance replied. "Plastic surgery."

"That's it." Kyle hurried over to Chance and lifted him up by his legs, throwing the twelve year old over his shoulder.

"Hey! Let me down Kyle! C'mon!" Chance yelled, trashing and kicking. He almost got Kyle in the face.

"This is what you get for being a brat," Kyle told him as he headed down the stairs.

He walked into the kitchen towards the still full sink, filled with dirty dishwater.

"Kyle!" He shouted. Chance used his arms to keep from being shoved head first into the sink, but Kyle used his free arm to grab both of Chance's.

"Kyle! C'mo-ughhbulbbbbb!" Satisfied, Kyle pulled Chance out of the water and placed him back on the kitchen floor.

Chance spat water. "You're disgusting, man."