Political Science 101

Chapter Fifty-Eight

ASHLYNN LOVED everything about her new car, and she was extra excited to spend her birthday tonight, Friday night, driving around town with the top down and the radio up, just because she could. Today was her sixteenth birthday and today her Learner's Permit became a Driver's License.

As the sun slowly melted behind horizon, bringing another day to an end and another night to a beginning, Ashlynn stopped her car in front of Kelli's house and honked her horn. She promised Kelli they could spend the evening together, and one of the major reasons Ashlynn agreed to this was simply to show-off her new car. She'd spent two years riding to and from school or to and from whatever seasonal sports practice in Kelli's somewhat junky maroon Jeep Grand Cherokee with the mismatched fender, so this seemed like a nice subtle one-up opportunity.

Actually, Ashlynn hated riding in Kelli's Jeep. She'd long ago grown tired of listening to Kelli describe her random escapades (many of which took place in the back seat of her Jeep), which seemed to be almost all she talked about anymore, and Ashlynn learned to sufficiently stare out the window and ignore her. But now, the seats were reversed, and there would be no talk of drunken escapades in her car — Ashlynn would make sure of this.

All of Kelli's stories about her mismatched Jeep Grand Cherokee made Ashlynn come to two solid conclusions: a) She would never sit in Kelli's backseat — ever; and b) She would never be the kind of party-girl slut which Kelli seemed so proud of being in life — ever. But nonetheless, they were friends; even though they were so different, they always seemed to have fun together.

Ashlynn's car purred as it idled in front of Kelli's house with the stereo singing "Summer Girls" by Lyte Funky Ones (LFO). Although this song was older than she was — like most of her favorite songs — Ashlynn felt it was the appropriate tune for the evening (not immediately realizing how loud her car stereo was to the surrounding houses since her convertible top was down. But regardless, it didn't matter — Ashlynn was in a good mood, and it was her birthday. As Kelli approached, she turned her stereo off.

"I hate you for getting this car," Kelli said with her attempt at comical sarcasm, standing beside her car and shifting the backpack on her shoulder as it made a strange noise. "When do I get to drive it?"

"Oh, you wish!" Ashlynn said with a boisterous giggle, laughing both at the prospect of Kelli driving her new Mustang convertible as well as the ridiculousness of the question itself. There was no way Ashlynn was going to allow Kelli behind the wheel of her new car.

"Come on, girl," Kelli said as she stood next to the car, trying not to sound like she really wanted to, and instead making a faux-attempt at being offended by the denial. "I've been driving longer than you. You know I'm a good driver. Come on!"

"Nope," Ashlynn said with finality, but with a smile.

"Fine," Kelli replied, taking her backpack off and setting it on the backseat, which was easily accessible with the top down. School was out, so Ashlynn was momentarily confused as to why Kelli had a backpack. But that confusion was eliminated when the backpack plopped loudly into the backseat and Ashlynn heard the strange noise again, this time identifying the unmistakable clink of beer bottles, hastily packed into the backpack. Ashlynn grimaced, but said nothing.

"Well," Kelli said loudly as she leapt over the passenger-side door and plopped her dirty-blonde personality into Ashlynn's new car, looking around as though she'd never been in a convertible before.

"Well, what?" Ashlynn said, turning on her car stereo which cued-up her 90s music CD. Pop goes the weasel as the weasel goes pop! . . . rapped the CD.

Kelli listened to the song for a moment. "I thought this was that song you talked about that made fun of Vanilla Ice."

"It is," Ashlynn said, surprised that Kelli even a little of the 90s music trivia she'd bestowed upon her friend.

"And you're listening to it?" Kelli asked, seemingly confused.

"Yeah," Ashlynn replied, "it's still a fun song."

"Hm," Kelli muttered, "well, it's whatever."

"It's all fun music," Ashlynn said, putting her car into gear and pulling away from Kelli's house, sneaking another peak at Kelli's crappy maroon Jeep Grand Cherokee with the mismatched fender — a result of Kelli's careless driving, which she (of course) blamed on someone else (an old lady, if Ashlynn remembered the "story" right). Yep, there was no way Kelli was driving her new car.

"I say we pick up some guys tonight, Kelli said ambitiously, sounding like a pre-drunken sorority girl.

"Okay?" Ashlynn said with clear doubt and confusion in her inflection. "And where would we find these guys?"

"Anywhere," Kelli replied, looking around as she held her blond(ish) red(ish) hair from flapping in the wind as the care purred down the road.

"You'll have to be more specific than that."

"You know," Kelli said, "wherever," sounding like she had no clue what she was talking about. "We're two hot bitches in a convertible. It won't be tough."

This did not sound at all appealing to Ashlynn.

"Whatever you say," Ashlynn said with a fake smile. She pressed the NEXT button on her car stereo and "It's Tricky" by Run-DMC came on, pounding its guitar riff from "My Sharona." And with the gentle press of the accelerator, the girls sped off into the haphazard possibilities of a Friday night.