meant to be yours | d.w

18

"God, but life is loneliness, despite all opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of "parties" with no purpose, despite the false   grinning faces we all wear"

I don't know what it is about control, but there are times it feels quite nice to grasp onto it. Like when you have won the final championship in a tennis match, and you and your teammates rush together to clutch the trophy bearing achievement to your competitors and viewers of the scene. You are in control of your future for a moment. It feels magnificent.

This moment in my life is not one of them.

Everyone is rushing around profusely, checking for last minute items they forgot, some of the boys just beginning to start packing, Darry yelling at the boys for not packing, it's pure chaos. I'm not in control in the slightest, but this scene is something I don't want a single ounce of say in.

Austin Texas here we come

Darry didn't plan the trip all that much, that was mostly me and Sodapop (who honestly isn't the most reliable when it comes to these type of matters). He's a goof off honestly, but that's all a part of accepting people for who they are I suppose.

What a better way to start the trip than arguing with Dallas.

"If I wanted to be antagonized for every little move I make, I would tell a man I like baseball." I scoffed, eyes burning into my back.

If he wasn't behind me, I would glare right back.

"Like you even know what a run is." A voice scoffed. I honestly don't know why I keep referring to his as this voice. I know exactly who he is, no matter the circumstance.

"See!" I exclaimed. My point has been proven. I refuse to be in the same car with Dallas for this road trip. Is the battle I'm putting up childish? Absolutely. But am I willing to take the risk of acting like an eight year old if it means not having to speak, or even look at Dallas for ten straight hours (if we're lucky). Yes, one hundred percent.

Darry sighed. "Sorry Rebecca, but that's just how things work out."

A spark of Rebecca wanted to fight back. Ha. As if she would. The last time she challenged authority was not one of her brightest days.

"No, it's alright." She conceded, thinking for just a second that maybe she got out of Dallas' grasp where he loves to ridicule her.

"If you really wanted to see how real I am in the backseat of Keith' car why didn't you just say so?"

The only comeback that slipped was somewhat along the lines of "you're disgusting, don't you have better things to do, just shut your trap already". It could have so easily been one of those options, or perhaps it was possibly all of the above.

Our squabbling, arguing, bickering, all of the above, it all depends on what you see it as, came to a close. Well, almost.

We were arguing about who knows what just as Soda was helping Darry to load the car. The few bags were almost packed, for it's pretty difficult to afford various amounts of luggage when you hardly even leave the town. And when you don't quite even have a dime to spare on something nice.

He was saying something about my luggage (which isn't very fancy looking), but of course he had to nit pick the little things. He hardly even glances at the little things with anyone else. Sure, he calls out the "obvious" as he likes to put it. But it all feels so much more personal when it comes to him.

However, I'd like to believe that I'm over any false hope of him relatively thinking I'm alright. Completely over it, the three words I've been reciting like flash cards in my memory.