Blue Mustang


By Megan Perrin, Staff Writer

Three out of five days of the week, I drive a blue mustang.
Don’t believe me? I wouldn’t either; there’s no blue mustang in the student parking lot and that’s a hard image to miss.
But you wouldn’t see the car where I’m driving it, would you?
I don’t drive it to school, just to the other side of the driveway.
My family has very different schedules in the morning. My dad can leave as early as five a.m., and my mom could be leaving just minutes before my alarm goes off. Last year my father took my brother to school; therefore, by the time I woke up everyone was gone.
This year is slightly different. My brother and I are both seniors and have an off period. He has first off, and I have eighth off. The previous year my brother had to wake up to my father’s schedule, he had no other choice. However, now we both have our own transportation.
Now I leave before him.
Now I’m his personal busboy.
It started innocently. He works long shifts and comes home around midnight and because he is the last one home, he parks behind me. I had felt bad for waking him up earlier than need be, so offered to move it for him.
I didn’t really expect him to take me up on my offer, that car was his baby, but he did.
The next day he’s asleep again, but this time I’m running a bit late from my usual routine. I ask him to move his car for me. He instead tells me where his keys are. Okay I don’t have time to argue. I consent.
The next time his car is in the way, he’s up. Yet I hear his shower running when I come out of my room. I give it some time, get breakfast, brush my teeth. It’s been about ten minutes, I’m ready to leave for school; the shower is still running. I’m about to knock, holler for his key location, but he opens the door. This is great he can move his own car now.
No he can’t, he was “literally just about to get in the shower.”
Instead he hands me the keys, as he leaves to get in the shower that had been running for the last ten minutes.
Now I’m stuck in a loop.
Each time I ask he has an excuse, and each time I get fed up and move the car. This has to stop.
The next morning I entered his room. His phone is grasped loosely in his hand. He’s “asleep”. Yeah, I’m not buying it. Sure he could have¬†fallen asleep while on his phone, but his phone was lit up. He had been on it, deliberately pretended to be asleep when he heard me coming, so he wouldn’t have to move his car.
I have the evidence now. I could confront him this very moment, make him get up and move his car.
But I was stuck in a loop.
He moved so achingly slow. He didn’t know where his key was. I waited for him to come out. Minutes pass, I go back in and he’s fallen back to sleep.
I move the car.
The latest scheme he’s done, I went into his room, and conveniently his keys are lying next to him. Three reasons this image is messed up: 1. Usually I have to hunt for his keys, search through all his dirty clothes for his pants to find which pocket they’re in. He would not just have them so easily obtainable. 2. Who falls asleep with their keys wrapped neatly next to them? He is even a restless sleeper and moves a lot, so even if he had, they wouldn’t still be so nicely placed. And 3. I had gone in there earlier and they weren’t there.
But again, I moved the car. Because I could hear him, “oh the keys are right here” “I’m just waking up, it would be faster and safer for you to just move the car” or “You move it”.
So I move it.
Don’t get stuck in a loop. Just say no, whether that’s to drugs or sex, or your stubborn sibling who won’t get off his lazy butt. He’s lucky I follow school procedure and don’t drive cars that aren’t registered under my name. If I did, I would prove I drove a blue mustang and just drive his car to school.