Walking into the kitchen, Kylie discovered her mother drinking her morning Ganga juice. Juice salvaged from the depths of the Amazon Basin, or so read the flamingo pink container delivered to the house every week.  Evidently, Ganga juice made the world turn. From the point in time that her mom began drinking the sponge yellow fabrication she had a) met a new guy b) lost 2 pounds and c) won fifteen dollars on a scratch off “Find the 9’s” lottery ticket. Too bad the guy, who ironically enough was the “amazing Ganga juice” sales representative, turned out to be a convicted felon. And the fifteen dollars was added to the repair bill of Mrs. Banks’s car windows, which he had broken into in an attempt at stealing the Volkswagen.

Kylie’s brother, Elijah, was the main provider for Kylie and her mom. At sixteen, he had already placed in forty-seven amateur rank motocross races across the southern border, and brands like Pro Circuit, Monster Energy, and Suzuki were all offering early sponsorships. Now, at age twenty-eight he wore the title as one of the best-known AMA champions in the United States. Elijah was not only a brother to Kylie, but substituted as a father on top. Kylie had only known her real father for a brief six years. After which, he had been killed almost instantly in a car accident trekking to one of Elijah’s races. After that day, Mrs. Banks never went to another race, and the role as man of the house fell on Elijah’s shoulders. Eventually forced to quit his traveling career as a racer, Elijah moved back home to Tucson, Arizona and began supporting his fatherless family.

With some help, Elijah successfully opened a motocross retail store that offered training and instruction for those attracted to pursuing motocross. Kylie knew that deep down Elijah wanted more then anything to return to the sport. He never gave up on the fact that without him, Kylie and her mom would have nothing. The truth of the matter however, was that they could survive without him. Mrs. Banks earned enough money as a Travel Consultant that Elijah’s return to racing across the country could happen at any time. Whether he would admit to this, was another matter entirely. To him, his family needed him, and that was that.

He continued running the business nonetheless, and most his time revolved around keeping Banks Moto Depot, BMD as the regulars called it, up to prime. Which, Kylie noticed, answered for his non-existent presence at the breakfast table.

“Eli’s out early this morning?” Kylie asked, already knowing the answer. Elmira Banks took a sip of her filmy yellow drink before answering.

“Lucky for you, he wasn’t here to see your little performance.” The statement left her eyebrows at the peak of her golden-brown temple.

“They were getting a big delivery in this morning; Kent and Devon weren’t around to help, so he had to go in at five. Which, my dear, is what time your alarm clock is supposed to go off.” The dream. She hadn’t thought about it for at least five minutes. Kylie’s stomach let out a nervous moan, and she looked down at it irritably.

“What is the matter with you today? You’re acting just like Murly does when he has to go to the vet!” Murly was the Banks’ husky. Found in a supply box full of four stroke exhausts dropped off at the BMD three years ago, one look into those deep blue Alaskan eyes and the Banks’ knew he belonged to them. 

“I just didn’t sleep very well last night that’s all.” Kylie’s excuse was a foul one, despite the fact that it seemed to have done the trick. Her mom barely managed to swallow her last sip of juice, but somehow gurgled a reply.

“Well, sleep or no sleep, you still have to go to school.” Kylie rolled her eyes. “Alright, well, bye then.” She quickly jogged to her room, and slipped on her red ballet flats. Planting an obligatory kiss on her mom’s cheek, she headed out the door.
Murly lifted his head, rolling on his side to greet her as she walked out to her car. After treating him to a somewhat suitable belly scratch, he rolled back over negligently. Kylie's '89 pride and joy, a black Chrysler Conquest, sat in the drive.

Getting in, she threw her plaid purple bag in the back seat carelessly, rolled down the window, and turned on the radio.

“It’s a gas! Gas! Gas! Gas! Jumping Jack Flash it’s a gas!”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Kylie’s fist began hammering the car’s cheap little radio for all its worth, pushing the round little knob up and down while the pain in her hand increasingly grew. On off, on off, until finally she gave up and began singing as loudly as possible with every fiber of her being.

“It’s a gas! Gas! Gas! Gas! Jumping Jack Flash it’s a gas!” Murly looked perturbed as he got out of his lying position and began to stare at the car, head cocked to one side, and then to the other, as each note became more and more out of tune. 

“Jumping Jack Flash its gas! Jumping Jack Flash it’s a gas!” Kylie continued on, practically screaming. Murly began to howl. “Jumping Jack Flash it’s a gas!”

The howling and the screaming continued relentlessly on until finally, the song ended, and Murly slowly walked back to his original spot, stopping occasionally to look back at the vehicle. Kylie decided it best to silence the radio for the rest of the trip to school. Her phone rang, and she jumped about ten inches off her gray upholstered seat. The ringtone was Free Ride so she knew prior to answering where the call had originated.

“Hey Eli, what’s up?”

“Kylie?”

No matter how many times he used a phone he still reacted like the experience remained new to him.

“Yes, who else would it be?”

“I don’t know.” Kylie chuckled into to the receiver.

“Anyways,” he was too busy to care, “I need you to come to the BMD after school today and help me out. I have a class at four and no one to work the counter, so I would really appreciate it if you would stop by. Can you please?” It wasn’t a question, it was a command, and although Kylie doubted Thursday evenings were that crowded at the BMD, the least she could do for the one that practically raised her would be to help.

“Yeah sure, I’ll be there. Four you said?” He breathed out dramatically, portraying that he was relieved. Like he didn’t know she’d say yes.

“Yeah that’s right four, thanks so much. I’ll see you later. Be good in school. I love you.”

“I love you too Eli, Bye.”

“Bye K.”

              Kylie sometimes did not understand how much easier it was for her to talk to her brother than her mom. Maybe, she thought, because she always spent more time with him growing up, while her mom was always out somewhere with a new boyfriend, or co-workers. It wasn’t as if her mom didn’t want to spend more time with Kylie, she just had a strange way of dealing with the loss of their father; her husband, and Kylie understood that. Either way, Elijah rubbed off on her in countless ways. The most predominant being the fact that he in reality would always be a boy and Kylie a little girl. Becoming a tomboy inevitably came, she remembered, which also meant that boyfriends did not come around as often as most. Kylie had plenty of boyfriends, just not an actual boyfriend. Truthfully, she never really seemed to care about whether having a boyfriend was in or not. While most girls her age obsessed over what clothes would conjure the attention of that special someone, Kylie obsessed over repairing her 100 lime green KTM dirt bike. Things changed however when Kylie started high school. Caring about her appearance and what people thought of her became more and more important, especially the boys. It seemed as if she were experiencing these feelings for the first time, while most of the other girls in high school reenacted those types of scenarios with their Barbies at age six. Kylie never even owned a Barbie. The fact that she, as a seventeen year old, had never kissed a boy appeared to others as a complete and utter tragedy. Quite honestly, she didn’t really care. Kissing generally had crossed her mind before; she just didn’t feel as if it necessarily needed to be accomplished in order for survival. Most girls her age had already slept with someone, and blew it off like nothing. Yet, when that certain boy stopped paying attention, Kylie noticed, each one of those girls appeared distraught as seemed humanly possible. Kylie made sure that that never happened to her.

               Boys just did not seem to be important, and as far as she was concerned, they didn’t need to be. Yet, there were always exceptions. Last night, she thought, had been just that: a great, big, beautiful, dark haired exception. That dream was so vivid, so real, that she almost believed it to be so, wanted to believe it so. She sought to be held in that beautiful hallucination’s arms. When he looked into her eyes, he knew everything that she wished she knew about herself.