Drive Me Crazy

by Tami Franklin

  Not good.

  He’d also taken to turning on his Uber app just about every time he left the library, although it had been two weeks and he’d yet to see her again. The chances were slim, really. There were a lot of riders, a lot of drivers, and the two of them meeting up twice was unusual—three times would have been a miracle.

  But he still did it.

  Obviously, there was something seriously wrong with him.

  The library lights flashed and another Friday night study session ended. With a sigh, Ben packed up his books and headed to his car. He swiped on his Uber app again—just because he could use the money, not because of any other reason. Really. He wasn’t a pathetic loser pining for some girl he barely knew. No way.

  The app pinged and he fumbled his keys, dropping them on the ground next to the car. He threw his backpack into the back seat and accepted the ride—another one downtown in the same area of restaurants and bars where he’d picked up Lilli both times before.

  It couldn’t be her. There was no way. But he accepted the ride anyway. And the name Lilli appeared on his screen.

  Lilli.

  He all but held his breath as he rounded the corner and neared the curb, and let it out with a slow, easy exhale when he spotted Lilli standing there in a red and white striped skirt with matching red boots and a furry white jacket. She grinned and waved before running over to him.

  “Don’t you have anything better to do on a Friday night?” she asked as she buckled in.

  “Apparently not.” He checked over his shoulder and pulled into traffic. “Another blind date?”

  She let out a laugh, but it seemed a little off, somehow. Probably his imagination.

  “This guy was the worst yet!” she exclaimed, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears. “He wore a dickie. A dickie, Ben! I didn’t think anybody wore those.”

  “What’s a dickie?” he asked.

  Lilli scrutinized him. “I’m not sure if I should admire or ridicule you for not knowing that,” she admitted. “It’s basically a shirt with no sleeves or front or back . . . just a collar. His was a turtleneck. He wore it under a V-necked sweater, which makes it even worse.”

  Ben laughed. “How does that make it worse?”

  “Well, it doesn’t make it any better!”

  “It seems a little picky to write someone off just because of his fashion choices,” he pointed out.

  “A dickie and a V-necked sweater, Ben. A girl’s gotta draw a line somewhere.” She shook her head. “And he kept picking his teeth. And he had a creepy mustache.”

  “Uh oh . . . the un-holy trinity.”

  “You got that right.” She shifted in her seat, tapping her fingers on her knees.

  “Are you okay?” Ben asked.

  “Me? Of course. Why?” She didn’t look his direction, but out the window.

  “I don’t know. You seem weird.”

  “Weird? Weird how?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well then, why did you say it?”

  Ben was confused. “I have no idea. Forget I said anything.”

  This was quickly becoming the strangest car ride ever. Lilli continued to fidget, even opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, but snapped it shut at the last second. And now that Ben finally had her in his car again, he wasn’t sure what to do about it. Should he ask for her number? Would that be weird? It was definitely against Uber rules, but did that really matter?

  He was pretty sure driving by her apartment building every day would be frowned upon by the Uber upper echelon anyway.

  Maybe she didn’t want him to ask for it. She thought he was a privileged frat boy, so why would she? Maybe he could convince her otherwise. That was the first step.

  “Oh no,” she groaned as they turned the corner onto Commercial, dragging Ben out of his thoughts.

  “What is it?”

  Lilli pointed. “The red car there? Parked in front of my building?”

  Ben spotted the sports car. “Yeah? What about it?”

  “It’s my ex-boyfriend,” she said with a sigh. “He pops up every now and then to brag about his latest raise, and try to convince me to come back.”

  He glanced at her sideways. “Douche nozzle?”

  “The king of the douche nozzles,” she replied, unbuckling her seatbelt. “The typical, type-A, rich boy—” She glanced at him and sighed. “Which is where I probably get the rather large judgmental chip on my shoulder when it comes to good-looking, ambitious guys.”

  He arched a brow at good-looking and she flushed, clearing her throat before he could comment.

  “I better go deal with him. Thanks for the ride, Ben.”

  He opened his mouth to stop her. To ask her for . . . something. A date? Her number? A chance?

  But she slammed the door shut and ran for the apartment building through the drizzling rain, and he never got the opportunity.

  “What in the world is wrong with you?” Ben’s sister, Julie, asked, waving a hand in front of his face. “I’ve been talking to you for ten minutes and you’re not even paying attention.”

  He stuck out his tongue in a very mature way. “Maybe if you said something interesting—”

  “Oh shut it,” Julie muttered without heat. She got up from Ben’s kitchen table and poured herself another cup of coffee. Julie felt it her mission to check up on him once a week. Sunday mornings were usually accompanied by her pounding on his apartment door, despite his attempts to ignore her and get a little more sleep.

  “Seriously, though. You’ve seemed kind of distracted for a while. You okay?” she blew on her coffee and took a sip before patting the back of his hand. “Tell big sis all about it.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  She just stared at him with that big sister stare she had. Blue eyes the mirror of his own, wide and unblinking. He hated that stare.

  “Really, I’m fine.”

  “Mmm hmm . . .” She waited him out, drinking her coffee. She knew he’d cave. He always did.

  He kicked himself mentally, cursing his lack of backbone. “There’s this girl—”

  “I knew it!” She threw up her fists in a victory V. “Who is she? When do I meet her? When’s the wedding?”

  Ben shook his head. Why did he even try? “It’s not like that.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She looked confused. “So what’s it like?”

  He paused, and she didn’t push him. That was one nice thing about Julie. She knew when to let him think it through.

  “Do you think I’m boring?”

  “Yes,” she replied without waiting a beat.

  He rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”

  “I’m kidding!” Julie said with a laugh. “No, you’re not boring. You’re stable. You’re reliable. You’re . . .”

  “Boring.” He sighed. “And privileged.”

  “She called you privileged?” Julie bristled at the idea. She could tease him all she wanted, but nobody else better ever take a poke at her brother.

  “No, no. I mean, not after that first time,” he said. “And she apologized, but . . .”

  “But . . .”

  “I don’t know.” He leaned back and stretched his arms over his head, his own coffee forgotten. “I’ve been thinking maybe she’s right.”

  “You’re not boring,” Julie said stubbornly.

  “Well, I’m not exciting,” he retorted. “It’s not even that, really. It’s just . . . what am I doing? I’m all set up to go to law school and join Dad at the firm. And I don’t even know if that’s what I want.”

  “Really?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, frustration edging his voice. “I’ve never actually thought about it, you know? I’ve always just kind of gone along with it, doing what’s expected and I’ve never even thought about whether it’s really what I want to do with my life. Do I even want to be a lawyer?”

  Julie swirled her cup for a moment. “Maybe the fact that you’re asking that question tells you the answer
.”

  Ben sighed again. “Yeah. I think maybe it does.”

  “Well,” Julie said, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears, “all I can say is if this girl has you thinking about stuff like this? Re-evaluating your life and whether you’re really going to let Dad run it from here on out? I like her already.”

  “He doesn’t run my life,” Ben grumbled, but even he didn’t believe it.

  “Ben—”

  “I know. I know.” He groaned. They’d had this conversation a million times before.

  “I just want you to be happy,” she said.

  “I know.”

  “And you can’t let Dad tell you what to do.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “That’s easy for you to say. You’ve never had to deal with it.”

  She tipped her head in thought. “And I’m not sure if I should be grateful he’s always focused his attentions on the golden son, or annoyed at his sexist attitudes.”

  He laughed. “I think grateful.”

  Julie rolled her eyes. “So, tell me about her.”

  And with a small smile, Ben did.

  The following Friday, Ben watched the clock, waiting for the library to close. Tapping his finger impatiently on his open textbook, he chewed on his lip, ignoring the glare from the guy two tables down who obviously didn’t appreciate his jittery nervousness.

  When the lights flashed, he let out a huge breath and packed up his stuff. He knew it was unlikely he’d see Lilli again—really, what were the chances? How many Uber drivers were there in this part of the city—and how many riders? It couldn’t happen again. Twice was a coincidence. Three times was a miracle. Four times would be . . . impossible. Absolutely impossible.

  He turned on his app anyway as he walked out of the library and headed toward his car. A moment later, a request came for the same street where he’d picked Lilli up before. It could have been a fluke but for some reason, Ben chose to think of it as fate.

  Even more so when he accepted the ride and Lilli’s name appeared on his screen. It had to mean something, right? How could he keep picking up the same girl—at the same place and same time? Ben had never been a big believer in the supernatural, but what else could explain such an odd coincidence? Accepting the ride, he got in his car and checked his reflection, running a hand through his hair. He cleaned his glasses and blinked at his reflection, wide blue eyes belying his excitement.

  It was ridiculous. What was he doing? It was a ride, nothing more. Sure, he had developed a kind of fascination with Lilli, but he had no indication that she had any interest in return.

  His heart pounded as he drove down the street, a little heavier and louder with every cross street he passed. Ben swallowed nervously as he turned the last corner and the familiar stretch of sidewalk came into view.

  He’d wait for a sign, he decided. As long as he was throwing logic to the wind and putting his faith in fate, why not go all the way? He’d put out some signals and see if she returned them. If so, then he’d make a move.

  Signals, right. How exactly did one put out signals, he wondered?

  He glanced in the rearview mirror. Maybe a smoldering look? He narrowed his eyes and tried it. He couldn’t decide if he looked angry or sexy . . . or maybe constipated.

  Ugh. Ben shook his head and pulled over. He was not cut out for seduction.

  “Well, fancy meeting you here,” Lilli said with a sunny smile as she got into the car and buckled her seatbelt. Today she wore black shorts with multicolored tights underneath and patent leather go-go boots.

  Did anyone really wear go-go boots anymore?

  Apparently, the answer was yes.

  Ben realized she was looking at him, waiting for a response.

  “Hi.”

  Smooth, Ben. Real smooth.

  Her smile fell, ever so slightly. “How have you been?”

  Ben cleared his throat as he pulled away from the curb. “Fine. You?”

  What was he doing? The signals were all wrong. Abort! Abort!

  “Fine,” she said quietly.

  Silence hung heavily in the car and Ben searched his mind for something to say. Anything.

  “Another blind date?” he asked.

  “What?” She blinked at him, confused for a moment. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, the worst,” she said.

  “Worse than Dickie V-neck Guy?”

  “Oh, yeah. He was high,” she said. “Higher than a kite and smelled like weed.”

  Ben winced.

  “He wolfed his dinner down and then started on mine,” Lilli said indignantly, warming to her audience. “He didn’t even ask, Ben! I wanted those fries!”

  Ben put on a shocked expression. “He took your fries? That’s . . . that’s—”

  “Heinous,” Lilli supplied. “Vile. Unspeakable. Appalling. Detest—”

  “Broken out our thesaurus, have we?” Ben said, finally warming up his banter-muscle. He could do banter. He was an excellent banter-er, if he did say so himself.

  “Oh shut up,” Lilli said with a laugh, hitting his arm. She smiled at him and Ben decided he’d try his smoldering look.

  Intensity. Brooding. That’s what they go for in all those teen novels Julie’s always reading. He smoldered as well as he could while trying to keep an eye on the road before him. It was harder than he’d anticipated.

  “Are you okay?” Lilli’s brow wrinkled in concern. “Do you feel sick or something?”

  Ben coughed and quickly released the smolder. “Who me? No, I’m fine. Just . . .” He coughed again. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  “Okay,” Lilli said, dragging out the word. “So what were you up to while I was defending my fries from invaders?”

  Ben laughed. “Just studying. As usual.”

  “Don’t you ever do anything else on Friday nights?”

  He stiffened slightly. “I have a lot of work to do. A double major isn’t easy, you know.”

  Lilli shrugged. “I’m sure it’s not, but you have to do other stuff, too, don’t you? Have some fun? All work and no play, you know?”

  “I have fun,” he said defensively.

  “Yeah?” She turned in her seat to face him. “Like what, for example?”

  “I . . .” Ben thought for a minute. He really didn’t do a lot other than study and play video games. Watch a little TV sometimes. How lame.

  But instead of confessing his lameness, he turned on her. “What about you? Do you do anything that isn’t fun?”

  Her nose wrinkled. “Why would I do something that wasn’t any fun?”

  Ben huffed. “You know what I mean. All I know about you is you seem to be a magnet for bad blind dates. Do you go to school? Have a job? You know what they say, All play and no work . . .”

  She tipped her head. “How exactly would you complete that pearl of wisdom?”

  “All play and no work . . . means the rent never gets paid,” Ben said triumphantly.

  Instead of being offended, Lilli let out a gleeful laugh. “You really want to know what I do?” she asked. “Really?”

  Ben’s stomach flipped at her intent stare, but he shrugged it off. “Sure.”

  Her voice dropped, lips quirking at the corner. “Be careful what you wish for, Ben. Once you take the blue pill there’s no turning back.”

  “What? Are you an international assassin or something?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Nothing so dramatic.” She considered him for a long moment as they turned onto her street. “Go to the next intersection and take a left.”

  He shot her a questioning glance.

  “You wanted to see what I do,” she said. “I’m about to show you.”

  They parked in the alley behind a club called Tony’s and Lilli freshened her bright pink lipstick before leading him inside. She nodded at the bouncer checking I.D.’s at the door and they passed by without paying a cover.

  “You come here a lot?” Ben asked.

  Lilli just smiled mysteriously in response.

  The place was dark, lit onl
y by candles on the cloth-covered tables circling a sunken area with a drum set, baby grand piano, and a few guitars resting on stands. Recorded jazz played at a low level through the speakers as Lilli led him to the gleaming mahogany bar. She popped up on her toes to speak with the bartender, a balding man in his fifties wearing a bow tie and bright red vest.

  “Anybody playing tonight?” she asked him.

  “All yours, sweetie,” he replied, tapping her on the nose.

  “You want anything?” she asked Ben.

  He glanced at the bartender. “A beer?”

  “Make it two,” Lilli said with a smile. She dropped her purse on an empty table and shrugged out of her coat. “Have a seat,” she said, nodding toward the opposite chair.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, but Lilli had already turned to walk away. She slipped onto the piano bench as Ben lowered himself into the chair, not even noticing the bartender placing a frosty mug next to his elbow.

  Lilli smiled and started to play to scattered applause as people recognized the song. Her smile grew and she tipped her head with one long arpeggio . . .

  Then she started to sing and Ben stopped breathing.

  Her voice was unexpected, low and rich with a slight throaty quality that spoke of smoky jazz joints and checkered pasts. She closed her eyes while she sang, the emotion of every note and lyric evidenced on her face. The room hushed, caught in her spell until she climbed a scale, dipped into a swinging riff and held out the final note while her fingers slid over the piano keys bringing the song to a quiet close.

  The enthusiastic applause was peppered with shouts and a few shrieking whistles.

  Lilli dipped her head, cheeks pink with pleasure, and asked if there were any requests once the clapping died down. The crowd shouted out songs and Ben settled in with his beer to enjoy the show.

  “I think breakfast’s on me,” Lilli said several hours later as she tucked a rather impressive stack of tips into her purse. She’d taken one short break, but the crowd had kept her busy with requests. Lilli didn’t seem to mind, though, that small smile on her face through every song.

  Ben found himself almost envious. He knew of very few things that made him that happy.