Chapter Eight

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"I think you'll have fun with this, Two-Bit," I say to him, getting to my feet, uneasy about the shit plan we threw together to do something we really shouldn't.

"Yeah, I know I will." He laughs. I pull the black book bag up on to my shoulder, it's contents recently emptied out into a pile on Darry's bedroom floor. He's upset about it, but at this point, how pissy he is over the mess I've made with my clothes hardly seems to matter. Not compared to the rest of the messes I've made, and not to forget to mention, the one I'm about to.

"I'll be in the car," Dallas says. I look over at him and a sudden curiosity washes over me. Why on earth does he want to go with? I come around to feel dumb as I realize the simple answer to a stupid question. For the thrill of it. To get a kick and a rush of adrenaline. "Want me to drive?" He asks.

"No, that's okay. I'll drive." I respond. Dallas gives a short nod as we head out to the truck. I hop in the front seat and Two-bit sits in the passenger's seat.

"Hey man, this isn't fair. I don't want to sit in back." Dallas says, a slight rise of jocularity in his voice.

"It's not safe for little boys to ride in the front seat." Two-bit jokes.

Dallas rolls his eyes and I would laugh if my stomach wasn't in knots. I guess they've gotten used to the odd sensations before you do something like this, either that or they just don't feel it. I turn the key and check to make sure no one is behind me before pulling out of the drive way.

"Man, aren't you one lucky princess?" Dallas says, "Darry let you use his truck. You know you're gonna owe him for that, right?"

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it." My mouth forms the words, but I don't know if I've really said them or not.

The moonlight spreads over the road and houses in patches, breaking through heavy grey clouds. My stomach swirls around itself and does flips, and I suddenly feel the urge to vomit until everything in it is gone. Despite all of my insides screaming: turn back! Turn back!, I drive on through the night to my house.

A silence spreads through the car and is interrupted by Dal's question, "did you walk to the Curtis's?"

"Yeah," I say, unable to give a more complex answer.

"Hell, how far did you walk?" He asks. I shrug in response.

"You sure you want to do this?" Two-Bit asks me, his voice flecked with what seems to be a soft concern, but if I had to put a label to it, I'd say it's caution. I'm sure he doesn't want me to back down when we're in the midsts of it all.

"Yeah," I nod again.

"Why d'you want to do this?" He asks, looking over at me.

I'm hit with the question and I guess a sufficient reason has not occurred to me, "just to get back what's mine." Honest and reasonable, I think to myself.

I park in front of the house and stare at the peeling paint and dirty windows in the dim lighting. Now that I think about it, I'm not entirely sure I do want to do this.

"Have you ever done anything like this before?" Dallas chimes in on the questions. I shake my head, unable to force more words through my mouth. "Then I guess it's a good thing we're with you, huh? Don't sweat it, doll, the worst thing that can happen is someone will die, and if that happens, I'll make sure it's me."

I turn to look at him, "I don't want you to die." I say before realizing that the thought was even in my mind.

"Okay," he shrugs, it doesn't mean anything to him. I guess I shouldn't have expected something else.

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