((@aem9876 so I lied 😅😅. I started writing and my depression said. 'You know what? We're gonna keep writing this chapter. No stops. No breaks.'
*4 hours and 5,000 words later* 💀💀💀).
He was only sixteen, still just a kid who only cared about girls, football, and getting a scholarship for college. "Dad, can I borrow the truck tonight?" Darry asked the man sitting in the living room recliner, reading a newspaper.
"Why do you need the truck?"
"There's a party tonight that the football team is throwing and -"
"You're not going to any parties, especially on a school night."
"But dad, everyone is gonna be there!"
"I said no Darryl," the eldest Curtis son huffed, kicking at the sofa in protest. "Loose the attitude son, you're sixteen not six."
"Yes Sir," Darry didn't feel like getting into an argument with his father. So he took himself and his bad attitude outside to throw his football around and cool off.
Ponyboy, who was only nine, came outside after a little while to find his big brother. "Darry!"
"Yeah Pone?" He smiled seeing his little brother. He was so cute, he'd do anything for that kid.
"You got a phone call." He pointed inside the house as if Darry needed to be told where exactly the phone call was coming from.
"Catch." He threw the football at Pony, who caught it after a bit of fumbling. "Good catch. You should try out for QB1 at the high school."
"I'm only in fifth grade Darry!" Ponyboy had recently skipped a grade, making him the youngest and smallest in his grade. Darry worried about him for next year when he started middle school, he'd be younger than everyone at that school, not just within in his grade. Luckily Sodapop would be in eighth grade and could watch out for him, but that only went so far.
"Then we will just have to practice, that way when you get to high school you won't even need to try out. Coach will take one look at you and give you the position on the spot." He jogged over to the young kid and took his football back, "you know whose on the phone?"
"Some guy named Paul. He wanted me to get you."
They both went inside the house now, Darry went to the kitchen where the phone was hanging and swinging slightly in the air. Pony must've just let the receiver and cord hang while he went to get Darry. "Thanks Ponyboy," he picked up the phone and put it to his ear. "Paul, what's up?"
"Hey Dar! You still coming to my party tonight, right?"
"I don't know man. My old man won't let me have the truck for the night, and he said I can't go to any parties on a school night."
"Just sneak out. I do it all the time."
Darry lowered his voice a little to make sure he couldn't be heard in the living room, "your folks also don't care if you come home in the middle of the night drunk off your ass."
"You're only a kid once my friend. Lighten up."
He thought about it for a little while, "my folks do go to bed kinda early tonight. Dad's gotta get up early for work."
"See? It's like the universe is telling you to do it. She's calling to you, 'take the truck Darry. Go to Paul's. Have a good time.' "
"You are an idiot."
"And this idiot just happens to be your friend, who is throwing the best party of the school year."
"Fine. But I'll still be late getting there. Since I gotta wait for my mom and dad to be asleep."
"That's just fine man. Party is gonna be going on for hours."
"Darry, come help your mother bring the groceries in!" It was his dad who called from the living room.
"Yes sir! Gotta go Paul."
"See ya tonight Dar."
"See ya," he hung up the phone and made his way outside to the car where his mother was opening the backseat that held a couple of brown bags filled with groceries. "I got it mama," he raced down the steps and to the car. He reached into the backseat and grabbed both of the bags into his arms.
"My strong boy," she had to stand on her toes to give her oldest son a kiss on his cheek. Darry was already over six feet tall, and Mrs. Curtis was only five foot three. "Just put them on the kitchen table and I'll put them away."
"Yes ma'am." He followed his mother up the steps, thanking her when she held the door for him and then took the bags to the table like she had asked. After he did that, he went to his and Soda's room to finish his homework and make his escape plan.
He figured it should be easy enough to get out of the house undetected. His parents would be in bed and asleep by ten thirty. They usually went to bed around nine thirty - after Ponyboy and Soda had been put to bed. Darry was expected to go to bed by eleven, and was trusted to obey that rule. He'd sneak out the back door (front door was too close to his parents' bedroom) and go back around front where he'd put the truck in neutral and push it away from the house a little. Enough that even if the sound of it roaring to life stirred his parents, they'd assume it was a neighbor.
"Dinner's ready," Soda stuck his head into their room seemingly out of no where, pulling Darry from his thoughts.
"Coming." Darry put his books away and went to the bathroom to wash up (even if he hadn't done anything to get dirty, his mom always made them wash their hands and face before sitting at the table).
Darry was fidgety during dinner, mentally counting down the minutes until he could put his plan into action. It was bad enough, that even Ponyboy noticed and asked if he was okay. The oldest child made up some lie about being nervous for a test at school.
He spent the rest of the evening helping his brothers with their homework and then playing catch with them outside. Keeping busy helped pass the time. Finally, his parents went to bed and he just had to wait one more hour to make sure they were asleep.
At exactly ten thirty, he grabbed his dad's keys and slipped out the back door just as planned. Slowly closing the door as not to make any noise. He hopped the fence to the front yard and went right to the desired vehicle. He opened the door of the truck where he threw the gear shift into neutral before going around the back of it and pushing with a grunt. He was strong, but it took a good bit of pushing to get the truck into what he deemed as a safe distance.
Finally, he was driving towards the west side of town towards his pal's house. When he arrived, he knocked on the door and Paul answered with a beer in hand and grin on his face. "Thought you'd never show." He pushed the beer into Darry's hand, "come on in."
Darry cracked the beer open and took a big swig, following his friend inside. He liked to come to parties and have a good time, but he wasn't much of a drinker. If he had to chose, he wouldn't drink at all at a party - he was proud of his health and his strong physique and he had no desire to damage it. It's why he never smoked like his friends did, but drinking was a part of the party scene. So if someone offered him a beer, he'd take it.
He spent hours like this, chatting with kids from his school, dancing with girls, and drinking. Darry was a rare greaser, one that the Socs invited to parties and talked to at school. He was a football star and charismatic, nearly everyone liked him.
At one in the morning, some of the kids were starting to say their goodbyes - needing to get home and sleep off the buzz. They had fun, but they didn't want to be too hungover for school that day. "I should probably get going too." Darry admitted after he nearly knocked over an expensive vase from his drunk stumbling.
"Awh come on Dar. One more beer."
"Sorry man. My old man gets up in a few hours for work. So I gotta get going."
"Alright, here. Take this for the road," he threw a can of beer at Darry - who caught it easily. "See you at school tomorrow. That is, if you can handle the hangover."
"I'll down some Tylenol and be fine. It's you who should be worrying. Last time you spent half the day throwing up in the school bathroom."
Darry ended up spending the next fifteen minutes searching for his dad's keys though. Somehow he'd lost them inside a bowl of chips. When he finally left, he drove almost twenty miles under the speed limit the entire way home. His vision was blurry and he kept swerving, unable to see straight.
"Fuck," he cussed as he pulled into his yard just after two o'clock. It took well over forty-five minutes to drive the usual twenty minute ride because of his slow driving and swerving.
He opened the door and nearly fell out and onto his face. He felt drunker than when he had left Paul's - and he thanked God he hadn't drank the beer he'd been given yet or he probably would've fell. He slammed the truck door, "shhh." He told the inanimate item and then patted the hood as if it had listened to him. He was struggling to walk up the porch steps, clutching keys in one hand and his unopened beer in the other. Darry also didn't realize how loud he was being as he opened the front door and staggered inside.
"What the hell is all that noise?" Mr. Curtis' voice was thick with disturbed sleep as he came out of the bedroom. He was wide awake however, upon seeing his son staggering around the dark living room. "Darryl Curtis, what the hell are you doing?"
"Awh fuck." He cussed when his dad turned the light on, causing his head to spin.
"Excuse me?" He gave his son a good look over and then his face hardened. "Where have you been? And what have you been doing?"
"Nothing." He tried to say, but it came out as 'nuffin'.
"It is after two in the morning, you're stumbling around the house fully dressed. Don't try to lie to me boy."
"Oh shit," he said what his brain was thinking. Because being called 'boy' meant he was about to get murdered. "I was uhh -" he looked down at his hands, he definitely could not lie.
"If you don't answer me this second you're gonna be in even more trouble than you're about to be."
"I was at Paul's," he slurred the words out.
"You were at Paul's? At two in the morning?"
"Yessir."
His dad's eyes lowered to Darry's hand and was not to thrilled at what he saw. "Darryl Shaynne Curtis Junior. You have a lot of explaining to do. And you better do it fast."
The use of his entire name had the teenager panicking. "I wasn't drinking and driving daddy. Swear!"
"But you are drunk. At the two in the morning on a school night, with my keys in your hand which means you stole my truck, and I'm assuming Paul was throwing that party you wanted to go to? Am I right? Or did I leave anything out?" His voice was growing harder, but it never rose above it's normal level. At least not until Darry didn't answer him, "answer me!" It still wasn't even yelling, but he rose his voice just enough to make Darry jump.
"Yes Sir, you're right."
"Hand me my keys, and that beer." Darry was quick to hand both items over. His dad walked away towards the kitchen without a word, so Darry just stood there in the living room, waiting. He saw the light go on in the kitchen and then cut back off before his dad came out holding a knife.
"What's that for?" He asked, but even if he was drunk he knew exactly what it was for.
"Go outside, I want you to cut and clean me a switch."
"Daddy -"
"Darryl. I am not in the mood for you to try and talk your way out of this."
"But it's late. You should go back to bed for work a-and I gotta get up for school at six thirty."
"Whose fault is that?"
"It'll wake up mama. Or Ponyboy and Sodapop."
"If I have to ask again, you'll cut two."
"No! I'm going." As he said it, he could feel his mind clearing slightly. If he focused hard enough he could walk in a straight line, even if his footsteps were heavy with concentration. He was still dizzy, he had a headache, and now he wanted to throw up - the last one wasn't from the alcohol either.
The front porch light came to life when Darry stepped outside, Mr. Curtis must've turned it on for him. There was only one tree in the front yard, Darry was surprised it was alive after having been used a dozen times by Darry alone.
He couldn't believe his dad was going to switch him - he was sixteen! Way to old to be getting tanned by either of his parents. For a second, he entertained the thought of bringing back a small one - but his dad would just add to the punishment if he tried that. And if he picked one that he knew would break easy - his dad would just whip him with it until it broke and then make him get a new one.
So, he grabbed a flimsy branch that was a decent size and cut it from the tree. He cleaned it of leaves and little side branches, making sure to get it as smooth as possible. Mr. Curtis was waiting for him, and when Darry came inside he took the switch from him and told Darry to take the knife back to the kitchen.
When the boy came back from doing as he was told, he stood at the archway between the kitchen and living room - hands in his pockets and biting his lip. "Get your feet moving Darryl." Darry took his hands out of his jeans pockets and came to his dad's side. "Over the back of my chair, jeans down."
"I can keep my boxers up?"
"We'll start with them up." Start? Darry was really in for it tonight. He got to work pulling his jeans down, which took more effort than it should've. He kept misjudging where the button was and fumbling to pop his pants open as if he were an uncoordinated child. And then when he went over the chair he nearly fell to the side, his balance still off. "I don't think I've ever been more dissatisfied in your actions Darryl Shaynne."
"Please dad - just whip me." He hated the lecture. "Ow!" He yelped loudly from the unexpected fall of the switch. It bit into his bare thighs with a burn, and left behind a bright red line.
"I don't want to hear a word from you young man," at least he didn't say boy or little boy. "Not only did you disregard what I told you earlier and go to that party. You did so by sneaking around my house," he landed a second strike, and the loud SWISH as the flimsy branch cut through the air made Darry jump before it even hit him.
"Ow -" it was quiet this time, he was trying not to wake his brothers or mother. He knew it wouldn't last long though, not if his dad kept hitting this hard.
"Stole the keys to my car," a third line appeared on Darry's thighs. "And then you go and get drunk and decide to drive!"
"God -" he gasped at the fourth strike. The pain was quickly sobering Darry up, his head no longer dizzy - but it still hurt.
"And don't think I didn't hear that mouth of yours."
Darry's hands clutched the sides of the chair, his dad wasn't showing him any grace. His backside was on fire and he'd only gotten half a dozen strikes and he knew he wasn't even close to being finished.
"I'm sorry," he choked back a sob after his thighs and bottom were painted with numerous red stripes.
"When you don't live in my house you can do as you please. But until then you will follow my rules. Is that understood?"
"Ow! Ow! Yes sir!" He was having a harder time staying quiet. "Daddy - ow!" He wanted to beg his dad to stop, but he wasn't going to stoop that low. Yet.
His dad landed another handful of strikes, and then paused. "Boxers down."
The command had him stooping to begging faster than he had hoped, "please. I just want to go to bed.."
"You should've been in bed hours ago. Remember?" Darry didn't move any, "one." The teen reached back quickly and pushed his boxers down when the number was spoken - he didn't need his dad to reach three.
"Stop!" He begged - not caring now if he was loud. The second his boxers were down and his hands back into place his dad was landing more strikes, only faster and in silence. "Shit -!" He cussed. His hands had flown behind him to cover and he got a bite of the switch to his hands.
When the cuss fell from his lips, he was immediately apologizing because Mr. Curtis pushed his son further against the chair to reach his under curve and attack the sensitive area."If this ever happens again -"
"It won't! I swear! Please - it hurts."
"You know what would've hurt more?!" Darry shook his head as he openly cried now, he didn't know.
"If you'd lost control of that truck and gotten hurt or killed yourself because you thought it was a great idea to drive drunk! How do you think your mother and I would've felt to get a phone call like that? How your brothers would feel?" Mr. Curtis didn't leave an inch of Darry's skin untouched. He had his son's ass to the back of his knees a deep red and shaking before he finally stopped. Darry would bet his life on the fact this was the worst whipping he'd ever gotten.
"C-can I get up?" His dad had stopped, but he hadn't said anything.
"Yes." Darry straightened up, pulling his pants back up with a grimace. "Look at me."
Darry turned slowly, he was not in the mood for more lecturing. "Yes Sir?" He raised his eyes from the floor to look at his dad, and was surprised to see tears in the man's eyes. "Daddy?"
Mr. Curtis dropped the switch and wrapped his arms around Darry's neck, pulling him into a strong hug. "You have no idea how much I hate that." Darry hugged his dad back, even if he thought he was too old. "But I couldn't bear to loose you son. The blatant disobedience aside. You are never to drink and then drive. I'll do this as many times as it takes to get that through to you."
"I'm sorry, really I am." Darry had stopped sobbing, but he still had some tears falling down his face.
Mr. Curtis pushed Darry back and gave a nod, as if he'd been thinking something over and made a decision. "Go to bed. You've only got a few hours before you get up for school."
"You're gonna make me go?"
"It's not anyone's fault but your own that you'll be tired, sore, and hungover. So get going."
Darry pretty much limped to the bathroom, wanting to wash his face first. He also needed to assess the damage. He half expected to see bruises, welts, maybe even some blood - because Jesus Christ did it hurt. But when he got a look in the mirror, all he saw were dozens of angry red lines that were raised from irritation.
When he got into the bed, Sodapop had stirred awake in the bed beside him. "You okay?"
"Yeah go back to sleep."
" 'kay." He rolled back onto his stomach and was asleep again.
Darry took his pants back off and then wiggled into a comfortable position in the bed. He groaned a little too, he was not looking forward to getting up in four hours.
~~~~~~~~~~
Six-thirty came far too soon for Darry. Mrs. Curtis came and turned the bedroom light on, "time to wake up boys." Soda groaned, pulling himself out of bed and rubbing his eyes. Darry covered his head with his pillow, the light hurting his head. "Darry, get up please."
"I don't feel good mama."
"Don't feel good?" She came over and moved the pillow away so she could place her hand on his head. "You do feel a little warm." Mr. Curtis must not have had the chance to tell his wife about Darry's misadventures before going to work.
"I feel sick, I don't think I can go to school today."
"Let me get the thermometer," she left the bedroom to go get the item.
"What's wrong?" Sodapop asked as he was getting dressed.
"Sick."
"That's what you said to mama, but I woke up before you came to our room and I heard -"
"Shut up." Darry hissed as their mother came back into the room.
"Finish getting dressed and then go eat breakfast Sodapop, I've already made waffles and eggs."
"Yes mama."
"Okay baby, sit up for me." He did, and blew his cover immediately. Because when he sat up in the bed he yelped and jumped up, revealing very plainly his still very red legs. "Darryl, I think you have some explaining to do."
He knew she'd just call his dad from work and ask if he refused to tell her. "Daddy switched me..."
"Last night? Why?" Had she really slept through the whole thing?! He'd gotten pretty loud at the end.
He rubbed at his head a little, God it hurt. "I snuck out to a party at a friend's. And I took the truck. Daddy heard me coming in cause I was kinda loud...cause I was drunk." He looked at his mother's face, trying to read her emotions. "It was after two in the morning. He was really mad. He made me cut a switch and whipped me forever -" that may have been a little bit of an exaggeration. "But I really do feel sick mama. My head hurts and I feel like Imma hurl. And I'm sleepy."
"Sounds like you had a really rough night."
He smiled a little, thinking he'd won her over with his pitiful state. "Yes ma'am."
"Get dressed and I'll have some aspirin waiting for you with your breakfast."
"But -"
"You're not skipping school because of your poor decisions young man. So chop-chop." His face fell as she left the bedroom, not happy with her response at all.
He got dressed, and hissed as he had to pull his jeans up. He would be lucky to sit comfortably by the end of the week. After getting dressed, Darry made his way to the kitchen where Ponyboy and Sodapop were already eating. There was a plate of food, glass of juice, and two aspirins at the table waiting for him."Thank you mama," he took the pills in one swallow and started to eat - standing up.
The medicine was going to be the most sympathy he got out his mother this morning, though. Because she eyed him sternly, "we sit for meals in this house Darryl." Man she must've been disappointed, upset, or both at her eldest son to still be calling him 'Darryl'.
"Just this once?"
"Chair." He voice was stern and she pointed to the empty chair. Expecting him to listen before she lost her patience.
He sat down, biting his lip so he didn't make any noises. His brothers still noticed though, and Ponyboy - the nosey kid - had to ask. "Why you wiggling?"
"I heard him tell mama, that daddy tanned him good."
"Why?" His eyes went wide, Ponyboy was the baby - the angel. He didn't get many spankings, so to hear his big brother had gotten into trouble shocked him.
"He -"
"Enough of that Sodapop."
"Yes ma'am."
"Finish your breakfast and you can go watch the morning cartoons before it's time to go." The three boys ate in silence, and when they finished - the younger two went to the living room and turned the tv on. Darry went to follow them, but his mother stopped him. "You do the dishes. It'll be time to go when you finish."
"That's not fair."
"Not fair? You tried to lie to me about being sick so you could stay home with your sorry behind and hangover. So unless you want me to tell your father -"
"No ma'am." He grabbed the dirty dishes from the table and quickly took them to the sink to start cleaning them.
As usual, Mrs. Curtis drove the children to school. She dropped Sodapop off first since the middle school was there closest. Then Ponyboy was dropped off, leaving her and Darry alone in the car. "I'm very disappointed in what you've told me." She said as they drove towards the high school.
Darry was shifting in the passenger seat, unable to alleviate any of the pain in his ass. "I'm sorry."
"You could've gotten very hurt driving like that. Not to mention you disrespected your father by going against what he said."
"Daddy already lectured me mama."
"And now I am. You better thank God you made it home safe Daryl. Anything could've happened. You're smarter than this. I know you are." He just stared out the window - he really did not feel like getting lectured twice in the span of five hours about the same damn thing.
"Just lay off." He muttered as the car pulled up to the high school.
"What was that?"
She pulled into the parking lot and parked the car, "I said lay off!" He swung the door open and started to get out - only for Mrs. Curtis to grab the back of his shirt and yank him back in.
He could easily get out of her grip and make a run for the school building. He'd been able to overpower her since his freshman year - but he didn't dare. Even if he was mad and irritated, he was smart enough not to. If he ever disrespected his mother like that, his dad would whoop him within an inch of his life!
"You'll loose that attitude right now. Don't think I won't spank you in front of this entire school. Even with your backside hurting like it is." When he gave a timid nod, she continued, "you will not speak to me or your father like that. You are in this predicament because of your own actions. So you will not take it out on those around you because you can't get your way. And I will not 'lay off' because what you did was stupid. So incredibly stupid."
She chewed him out for a good five minutes, and she didn't stop until he started to cry. It wasn't much, but he had bowed his head and a few tears fell from his eyes as she laid into him. "I'm sorry. Don't be mad at me. Daddy already is." He sounded so miserable, and Mrs. Curtis lost the Will to scold him any further.
"Your father isn't mad at you. I'm sure he isn't happy and he is disappointed with you. But never mad at you, and neither I am. We love you Darry, that's why we get onto you about these things. We want you to be safe." She wiped his tears away gently, "don't cry baby. It's gonna be okay."
"Can I please go home with you?"
"No sir." She shook her head firmly, but after looking at his face she sighed. "You go in and make it through to lunch okay? I'll pick you up during your lunch hour and you can come home early. It'll be our secret."
He smiled a little at that, "thanks mama." She let him go after that, watching him limping toward the door. He was trying to find a gait that didn't irritate his skin so much - which was impossible.
Paul met Darry at the boy's locker, "man you look like shit."
"I feel like shit." Darry said as he grabbed his textbook for first period.
"You want a little help to get rid of that headache. I know you got one." He added the last statement before pulling out a flask for a second and then having it back into his jacket.
"No thanks. I've had enough drinking for a while."
"What's wrong with you?"
"My old man caught me sneaking back in."
"What he do? Yell?" Paul said with a roll of his eyes. Like most Socs, Paul had parents who didn't care what their kids did. Half the time they ignored the bad behavior and the other half they blamed themselves for their children acting out. Only a few got scolded and even less punished.
"He skinned me alive."
"No shit? Big ol' Superman got a spanking from his daddy?"
"Fuck off Paul." He shoved his friend a bit. "I'm not some little kid. It wasn't a few love taps."
They went to their homeroom class and sat down next to each other. With Darry nearly jumping out the seat when he connected with the hard wood. He looked around and thankfully no one but Paul noticed. A bunch of kids were still waking up - many of them in a similar hungover state. "Damn. You alright there? How bad he give to you?"
"Bad."
He somehow managed to make it through the morning. His teachers must've noticed his ill mood and fidgeting, because they didn't call on him during class. Letting him squirm around in his seat, barely concentrating on the class. When there was only a few minutes left of third period, before lunch, the desk lady came in and handed a note to the teacher. "Darry." His teacher called his name.
"Ma'am?" He looked up from his notebook.
"You're being picked up. Pack your things."
"Oh thank God." He didn't mean to say that out loud. The class erupted into laughs until they were silenced.
"Finish the reading on top of your homework assignment."
"Yes ma'am." He got up and shoved his things into his bag before racing to the office. Mrs. Curtis was waiting, and he gave her the biggest hug imaginable when he saw her. "Has anyone ever told you, that you're the best mom in the world?"
"Not enough," she said with a laugh. They went out to the car and Darry crashed in the front seat, sitting still hurt, but it was much better than the hard wooden seats in his classrooms.
"I'm so tired."
"When we get home you can have something to eat and take a nap."
"Can I just go to sleep instead?" He asked, closing his eyes as the car pulled out of the school lot.
"You need to eat something." She looked over at her oldest son, smiling at the sight of him. He was dozing off, his head against the window. "You feeling any better?"
"My head still feels like it's going to explode. But the urge to vomit everywhere had subsided. And I feel like I could sleep for days."
"I bet you won't be drinking or going to any parties soon."
"Not as long as I live. Even if I didn't get whooped for it. This hangover blows."
When they got home, Darry forced himself to eat a sandwich his mother made for him. And then went to bed, not even bothering to take his jeans off. He just flopped onto his stomach and passed out, thankful he had the best mom ever.