I left the guys with instructions to pack for an overnight stay by a lake, and that we would probably be home before noon tomorrow. Depending on what time everyone wakes up. Last year even though mostly everyone was smashed all night, people started packing up and leaving around ten in the morning. Most parties in the 60's don't last all night, unless you count Buck's. Usually they have to just stagger home or they'll pass out where they stand.
I wasn't going to get the guys until it was already dark, so we could get there when the fire was already blazing. I headed over to Lillian's house so we could hangout before we had to pick them up and we could get ready together.
Her dad put a couple of tents in Lillian's car already, because her family goes camping a lot. I know they hate the idea of any of us drinking, but they'd feel more comfortable if we had a place to sleep it off instead of trying to get home. I don't drink, so it wasn't really a problem for me.
Lillian took the opportunity to wear something cute while I went with the comfortable suggestion of a gray sweatshirt and baggy jeans. It's going to be dark with mosquitos. I don't need to be eaten alive while I sleep.
Lillian put on a red bodysuit with jeans shorts with no plans to bring a jacket in case it got cold. She stood in front of her mirror, applying her makeup with the intention of covering every imperfection with intricate detail and using a blend of shimmy purple and a highlighted white on her eyelids.
I, on the other hand, shook out my curly hair from earlier and just ran a brown eyeliner pencil over my lash line and buffed it out with my finger to give it a little more dimension before reapplying mascara. I wasn't planning on sleeping in my makeup, so I didn't want it to be annoying to remove tonight.
In hopes of not smelling like a campfire the next day, I used an old black backpack to pack a pair of gray sweatpants, and a plain white t-shirt to wear once I'm done being near the fire. After putting a phone charger in my car, I didn't think was going to need anything else to survive the night.
Lillian was just finishing with straightening her hair when I checked the time and figured I should pick up some of the guys. With the two tents, we figured we would have three people in one and four in the other. Whoever wanted to share a tent with me would ride with me in my car.
I drove over to their apartment and the door opened before I even reached it. I instantly smiled when I saw Soda and I walked inside while I asked, "everyone ready to go?"
"Just about," he answered.
All of the guys were just waiting in the living room. No one was bringing extra clothes, so they were just going to go home tomorrow smelling like a campfire but it really wasn't that big of a deal.
"Lillian and I are bringing a couple of tents for tonight, so you guys are going to have to split off. They aren't big enough for everyone. You'll either be in my tent, or hers."
"Her rack is better, but you're less annoying so I guess I'll tag with you," Dally groaned and walked toward the door and tossed his cigarette on the cement ground.
"Rude, but okay." I learned to accept his arbitrarily insults and not take them personally.
"I'll go with you." Soda grinned.
"Johnny, why don't you come with us. Steve and Two can go with Lillian," I offered. I assumed that Johnny would not speak up and end up being someone's last choice. I didn't want to hurt his feelings.
"Okay, sure." He gave me an appreciative smile.
"What are your plans for tonight?" I asked Darry.
"Probably just sleep. I gotta long day tomorrow." He cracked his back.
"And I'll just be here. In case any of you were wondering," Pony stated loudly and exaggerated the page turn on his book.
"Do you want to hangout with Jenni? She is an underclassman too so she cannot go to the campout either," I suggested.
"Sure." Ponyboy shrugged nonchalantly. I saw his lips twitch into a small smile.
"Yeah, I'll drop you off," I promised. I checked the time and realized that we were probably going to be one of the last ones there once I took into account the half hour drive to get there. "We should probably go."
Darry told us to stay out of trouble and made everyone promise not to do anything stupid, and to call if we needed anything. I don't think he is used to having us all be so far away from him.
No one brought any bags out to my car, just as I suspected. Pony had to move my backpack out of the way so he could sit in the back seat with Johnny and Dally. Soda was my passenger princess, but he took the liberty of finding a radio station for us to listen to.
"Here, Soda," Dally said and reached his arm out toward the middle console. Soda reached back and pulled a bottle of something onto his lap.
I glanced at it then back on the road. "What is that?"
Soda put his nose to the bottle and sniffed. "Vodka."
"Where'd you get that?" I asked.
"Darry's legal," Dally answered, but I think he probably stole it. He can't help but break the law, he just hasn't been caught yet.
Soda took a drink from the bottle and just about coughed it back up. He squeezed his eyes shut and as soon as he got it down, he stuck his tongue out and grimaced. "Woo."
"Give it back."
Soda handed the bottle back to Dally and I saw him take a few swigs of it from my rearview mirror. He offered some to Pony and Johnny, but they both refused. Pony does not drink, because he isn't allowed to but during the Fourth of July in the 60s he tried beer and he absolutely hated it. He said that he was never going to drink again, and he has kept that promise.
I dropped Ponyboy off at my house and he seemed nervous. I knew that he liked Jenni, so I thought it was really sweet that they were spending time together. I don't think there's anything going on between them though, they're just really good friends.
The rest of us drove out to the campout, twisting and turning on the road right by the water until we found a house with a huge property, surrounded by giant trees with a great view of the lake. There were a lot of cars parked there already, so I had to take a far sport that wasn't in anyone's way.
We parked and we all walked together toward the large smokey fire that a lot of my classmates were around. I gazed at them all with the realization that a year from now, we were all going to be gone. Most of them will be moved away, starting school, or even starting new jobs. After spending a year away from all my friends, I didn't realize how much I was really going to miss them all.
The entire senior class was there, and most of the juniors. Some of the people there were feeding the bonfire, and some people were roasting marshmallows. Some were surrendering the alcohol they brought for everyone, and the others were drinking it. People even brought food, grills even, that people were lining up to eat.
"Bri!" I heard my name being called. I stopped walking and turned toward the sound of the voice and saw my friend Gretchen coming over to us.
"Hey!" I exclaimed excitedly. I hadn't seen her all summer, then the year I was in the 60's. Lillian introduced us sometime the year that I moved to Tulsa, and we have been great friends ever since.
Gretchen is very outgoing, and an outspoken person. She doesn't care what anything thinks about her, which I greatly admire. She has thick black hair that curls at her shoulders and the darkest brown eyes that sparkle to life anytime she talks about her pets or fun facts about animals. She hopes to go to veterinary school after we graduate.
She looked over at Soda who was standing quietly beside me and she nearly dropped her jaw. She nudged me with her elbow and she asked, "who is this?"
"This is Soda," I introduced. "He's going to be a senior with us this year."
"Soda? Like the mixer?" She asked jokingly.
"It says so on my birth certificate." Soda smiled proudly.
"That's a really cool name, I like it." She smiled back. She turned to me and asked, "where's Lillian?"
"You know Lillian?" Soda asked.
"Of course, I know Lillian!" She exclaimed. "Ever since kindergarten."
"She'll be here soon," I promised.
"Good. The party don't start until Lillian comes." She took a sip of her beer and handed Soda the unopened one in her other hand. "Here, take it and have fun. There's plenty more where that came from. I'm going to grab something to eat before all the sandwiches are gone."
Soda took it and raised it toward her in thanks.
"I'll catch you later," I said as she walked away and toward some of the trucks where guys were tailgating with burgers, sandwiches, and hot dogs. I think I smelled chicken too.
"Oh my god, California." Dally came waltzing over and he was practically drooling over all the booze that was around. "This is driving me fucking crazy."
I sighed softly. "It's a party, just go for it."
"You serious?" He asked with his eyebrows raised.
"Just don't be a dumbass." I gave my only condition.
"Thank you!" He grabbed my face and kissed me out of pure happiness before running off to steal a bottle out of a kids hand. It took me a second to process what happened and Soda was laughing next to me.
"Bri!" I heard behind me. I turned around and saw Lillian walking towards me with her boys right behind her.
"You finally made it!" I teased.
"Whatever," she laughed. She adjusted the neck of her body suit and she said, "we are here now. I want the hair of the dog that bit me."
Two's eyebrows came together and he swayed his head toward her. "A dog bit you?"
"What?" She chuckled. "No."
"Means she wants somethin' to drink, Two," Soda translated.
"Oh," he chuckled then stated, "you like to drink? I didn't know that."
"Not often, but it's a party!" Lillian then gestured toward me when she said, "little miss Goodie-Two-Shoes never has."
I shrugged with a smile. "Guilty."
"Well, we all know that," Two said followed by his booming laughter. "Let's go see what they've got."
Lillian and Two walked off and around the bonfire to the coolers and I couldn't even see where Dally scampered off to. Steve was in line to get something to eat, and Johnny was hanging around me and Soda silently.
"Hey, Johnny, they've got some sticks over there. Marshmallows too. Wanna make a s'more?" I suggested. I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable without his security blanket, Pony.
"Y-yeah, sure. Do I just... ask?" He asked nervously.
"Uh-huh. They're really nice, I promise."
Johnny nodded and slowly made his way over there with his fists shoved in his pockets. I heard him ask lowly, "hey, um, is anyone using this?"
"No, go ahead," one of the football jocks said and handed the roasting stick to him.
"Here are the marshmallows," one of the girls around the fire said as she grabbed the bag and gave it to Johnny.
"Thanks."
I got distracted when one of the junior girls came up to me and Soda. I obviously knew she was a junior, because I didn't recognize her like I did the rest of the senior class. Her eyes were black in the dark, and her dyed blonde hair was up in a ponytail that completely showed her overgrown roots. Dressed in a pink camouflage sweatshirt, I could suss her out to be one of those rednecks who drink beer every night because she thinks it makes her cool, goes hunting with her brothers every weekend, and desperately wants to be "one of the boys".
"Hi Brianna," she greeted with a southern drawl.
"H-hi," I said back, with uncertainly in my voice. Was I supposed to know who she is?
"Who's your friend?"
People don't really call me Brianna. I chuckled and asked, "I'm sorry, who are you?"
"Come on, you know me. We had Spanish together."
"I never took Spanish," I mumbled but she ignored me.
"I'm Ryleigh," she introduced herself. I never would have guessed that, but I wasn't surprised. She looked like her name was Ryleigh.
"I'm Soda," Soda said and took a small step closer to me.
"Can I get you somethin' to drink?" She offered.
He lifted his unopened beer and said, "I'm good."
Her eyes looked into mine for just a moment before she looked away. She backed off and said, "well, I'll be over there if you want anything."
"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," he replied. He barely cracked a smile.
She practically tripped over herself walking back to her clique of other hillbillies from trying to look back at Soda. A few of the other girls were leaning over in their camping chairs, just trying to catch a glimpse of him. I think the word was going around about the attractive new kid in school.
"What in the Sam Hill—" Soda said, looking down at his empty hands. I glanced up and saw Dally and his suede leather jacket walking away while twisting the bottle cap off his stolen beer. Soda looked at me and shrugged. "Oh, well."
It didn't take long for another tipsy girl to gain the courage to come up to Soda and talk to him. Many of them were seniors, and more were juniors who couldn't hold their liquor. They tried to get to him by pretending that we had been friends for years, when in reality I don't know their names and I only vaguely recognize their faces by merely passing them in the hallway. Cheerleaders, band geeks, burn outs, nerds, and even the drama kids all came over to talk to Soda. It was just like the 60's. No matter the decade, Soda is very likable.
"What's your name?" They would ask him.
"Soda," Soda would answer proudly.
"That's such a beautiful name," they would all gush.
"My kid brothers name is Ponyboy. It says so on this birth certificate," he would say with a toothy smile.
"Like the book?"
"What book?"
"Never mind."
I ended up walking away to grab a soda from one of the coolers. I walked around the fire, behind Johnny who had just twisted the stick to start roasting the opposite side of his marshmallow.
I got to the cooler and felt a presence beside me. I glanced and saw that it was Dally. He smiled down at me and he scratched his nose with the back of his hand that was holding the beer bottle.
"Hi." He grinned.
"Hi," I repeated and I opened the cooler. I saw a lot of whiskey, vodka, tequila, and lots of beer. I opened another cooler, then another and another until I found the ones full of water and soda. I grabbed a can of Diet Coke and popped open the tab.
Dally bent down to open one of the coolers that I had passed on and he fell hard to his heels. His hands gripped the heavy cooler to keep himself from falling back.
"Are you good?" I asked.
"Damn good," he mumbled distractedly as he reached down to grab a bottle but didn't grab anything the first time. He tried again and snatched a whiskey bottle that he held loose in his grasp.
"Have you eaten anything?" I asked.
"No." He pressed his hand against his knee to help him stand up. He lurched his chest back which made him take a couple steps back, and he kept his eyes fixated on trying to read the small print bottle. He slurred, "Jack here and I are goodest of friends. We go way back."
"You should probably get something to eat," I advised. I can't stop him from being a dumbass, but I can try to help prevent him not feel so utterly miserable in the next few hours.
"I ain't hungry." He twisted the cap off the bottle and even I could smell it from where I was standing. He took a whiff and coughed. The bottle wasn't full, it looked like someone else had gotten into it earlier.
"If you get hungry there's some burgers over there." I gestured over to the tailgating section of the party.
Dally slowly followed my hand and his eyes finally found the grills on the back of the trucks. "O-kay."
"I was just about to get one. Will you come with me?" I asked. The smell of the burgers did make me genuinely want one, plus Dally could really use some food in his system.
"Yeah, okay," he said and we slowly walked together over to the trucks.
There was only a couple of other people in line that we had to wait behind. The guy flipping the burgers is one of the football players at our school, and he was my partner in a culinary class I had to take junior year. He was fantastic at it, and I know he plans to go to culinary school after he graduates.
Dally took a swig of the whiskey, and after a harsh swallow he asked, "why ain't we gone to somethin' like this before?"
"There hasn't been one," I stated.
"There oughta be more. I can't stay in that apartment forever, Brianna, I just can't."
"I know. I know, I'm sorry."
We stepped forward in line and grabbed the burgers that Jeff was just putting on buns. There was a table with burger fixings that we could add to it, so Dally went there while I stayed back a little and chatted with Jeff for a bit.
I put ketchup, mayo, lettuce, and cheese on mine while I think Dally grabbed a bit of everything he could get his hands on. When he smushed his burger together, it was dripping with condiments and the pile of pickles he put on the burger slipped out immediately.
We got out of the way and Dally put the whiskey down by his feet. With a full mouth, I asked, "how is it?"
Dally had just taken a bite and he was chewing with mustard smeared on his cheek. Through his chewing, he answered, "good."
I hated mothering the guys. I wasn't Wendy Darling and they weren't my gang of Lost Boys. I didn't really like taking care of them, because to me they were too grown to be needing someone like me. I didn't like telling them what to do, or making sure they were taking care of themselves. It wasn't fair to me when the guys would get soused at a party and create such a ruckus that I would have to come out and take care of them just so I could get some peace. But when I noticed that mustard smear on Dally's cheek, I used my thumb to wipe it away.
"What?" Was all he asked.
"You had mustard on your cheek," I told him and tried to clean off my thumb with the bottom of my paper plate.
Dally waited a beat before he practically slapped himself in the face and rubbed his palm all around his cheek. He asked, "did I get it?"
"No, because I got it," I said.
"Oh." His arm fell to his side.
"I told you that."
"I was listening," he spluttered.
"No, you weren't."
"Yeah, no, I wasn't." His laughter bellowed.
We stood side by side and ate our burgers together. Well, Dally's immediately fell apart so he ate it one ingredient at a time, starting with the patty. When we finished, he took my paper plate and tossed them both in a nearby garbage can for me. When he came back, he swooped down to grab his bottle and offered some to me. I politely refused, for which he just shrug then walked off while unscrewing the lid.
I glanced over at Soda and his fangirls who never left him alone. I began my walk back over to him, where I saw that he was trying to politely excuse himself when he noticed me.
"Gee, I'm a little thirsty," Soda said a little too loudly.
"I'll get it!" The girls practically screamed then they all went off to grab Soda something to drink, like it was a race.
Soda laughed and said to himself, "I love that trick."
With the crowd finally gone, I walked up to him and he was beaming from ear to ear. I said, "they can't get themselves away from you, huh?"
"I guess. Where'd you go?" He asked.
"I got a burger with Dally," I said.
"Were they good?"
"So good."
"We might need to swing by and get another. I think that shot is getting to my head a little," he stated, I think he was joking but I have no idea.
I chuckled softly. "Okay."
"Are you okay?" He asked kindly.
"Yeah, just a little chilly," I stated.
"We should get our tent set up soon before it gets too late," he suggested and he pushed some of my hair back behind my ear.
"Okay." I smiled up at him.
"I got it!" We heard.
All the girls came rushing back. They were all either holding glass bottles in their grasp, or red solo cups but they all had hope in their eyes. Hope that he was going to take their offerings and get drunk enough to want to sleep in their tent tonight.
"Is that all alcohol?" Soda asked, cocking his eyebrow up in curiosity.
"Uh-huh," they all replied dreamily.
"Oh, I do not drink alcohol." Soda shrugged.
"Oh." They all muttered, slouching with disappointment. Some of them gazed into the cups then back up at Soda.
"See you girls later." Soda grabbed my hand and walked away, leaving me to play catch-up.
"What?" I heard the girls all murmur to each other and I tried to suppress my giggles.
"They like you, you know," I told him as we got to my car. It looked like Steve and Two were in the middle of putting up the tents beside each other, laughing boisterously as they struggled but they were managing.
"I bet if they got to know me, it would change their minds," Soda replied glumly. He opened the trunk and started to grab a few sleeping bags and place them on the grass by our feet.
"I got to know you and I still like you." I grinned and walked around to the back door so I could grab my backpack. I opened the wrong door so I had to crawl into the car to grab it.
"Oh, yeah?" Soda chuckled from the trunk.
He closed the trunk and walked over to my open door. When I saw him again, I answered, "yeah. I mean, if I didn't, then I wouldn't be here with you."
"Maybe you were desperate," he joked.
"If I were, I'd be on my hands and knees," I quipped.
Soda stepped into the car and slowly crawled across the seats on his hands and knees towards me like he was on the set of Mamma Mia performing Lay All Your Love On Me on a gorgeous sandy beach."Like this?"
I giggled and sank low in the seat until Soda was over me. One hand was down by my side, and the other was gripping the headrest to support his weight. Soda loves physical intimacy. He is always so affectionate, and has such a down to earth love.
"Just so you know, I got to know you and I have taken quite a liking to you too. You got everything I like," he stated.
"Who said I liked you?" I teased.
"You didn't have to say it. I can see it in your eyes." His voice was low, and it made me melt further into the back seat of my car.
"What should we do about this?" I asked, barely above a whisper.
"I think I know a solution." Soda lowered himself down slowly, and his soft lips were stuck to mine. I didn't want to let him go, but he pressed himself up and asked in his deep, breathy voice, "will you be my girl?"
"Your girl?" I asked just to make sure I heard him right.
His smile to me was like sunshine. "Oh, well, you sure made it easy for me to fall in love with you. With the way you smiled at me, there really wasn't much else that I could do. It's plain to see that I would give up everything I own just to have you in my life. I'm ready, willing and able to love you faithfully. I dont know how much more of this I can take. I want you."
I cupped his angelic face in my hands and giggled as I nodded my head. "I want you too."
Soda laughed but silenced himself by kissing me again. My hands linked together around the back of his neck, where I could feel the hitch in his strong jaw when he moved it up and down to be in synch with mine. One thing is for sure, I am so hopelessly devoted to him.
Soda lifted his head for air and he said earnestly, "boy howdy, I've been wanting to ask you that for a long time."
"How long?" I asked. "Like, 52 years?"
Soda chuckled which made my heart jump when I saw his handsome smile. "Just about."
"We should probably go before someone takes our bags," I stated. I didn't think anyone would. Trip on them, maybe. But even though we parked relatively far from the heart of the camp, I didn't want someone to come by and see Soda on top of me, because then I would forever be known as the girl that got it on during the senior camp out. Not exactly the legacy I'd like to leave at this school.
"Yeah, you're right," he agreed. He backed up off of me, and offered me his hand to help me out of the car. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into him, giving me a kiss on the side of my head. I felt myself blush and we both swooped down to pick up the sleeping bags he had put in the ground.
The area where Two and Steve were setting up the tents was a little away from the rest of the tents people set up, but it wasn't terribly far. They had set them up completely, I just hoped that they weren't going to collapse on us during the night.
We tossed the sleeping bags in the tents, and we walked back out to the bonfire. We saw the whole gang there, surrounding the fire with the other students. Everyone was standing around, sitting on the ground, or lounging in the camping chairs. Johnny had marshmallow crusted around his lips, but he didn't seem to mind since he was roasting another one. I think he likes marshmallows. He will have a stomach ache but it won't be from smoking cigarettes or drinking, it'll be from all the sugar he's eating.
"Anybody got a weed?" Steve asked to anyone who would listen. He was standing next to Dally, who was sitting and drinking in one of the camping chairs by the fire.
"Yeah, here," one of the burn-outs handed Steve a joint.
Steve took it and his eyebrows came together as he examined the joint with a puzzling expression. "What's this? This ain't no weed."
I quietly slipped from Soda's arm and slid over to Steve. In a low voice, I explained, "weed isn't cigarettes."
"Then what is it?"
"Pot."
"What's that?" He asked, his voice was growing louder.
"Marijuana," I stated.
"Oh. Oh." He stared at the joint. The gang didn't smoke pot, but a lot of the hippies around town did. Steve turned back to the guy and restated, "I want a ciggy."
"Cigarette," I corrected him.
"A cigarette," he repeated.
"Oh. I don't got that," the guy said, taking his joint back.
"I could use one too." Johnny shivered while munching on a s'more. "I'm deprived."
"Remember when we were in Windrixville, and Pony got sick from all the cigarettes he had? Just think of it as I'm protecting you from dying," I stated.
"Okay," Johnny muttered.
"Here, man," Dally's voice said behind me. He put the whiskey bottle between his legs and leaned to the side to get the cigarette carton out of his pocket. The legs of the chair came up, and I saw his eyes widen for fear of falling over. He sat up straight and the legs came back down. He guffawed, deep and slow, and reached his hand out toward Johnny to give it to him. The carton slipped out of his loose fingers before Johnny could grab them, and they fell to the ground.
"Oh, man," Dally grumbled. He leaned forward to grab them, but the alcohol must have went straight to his head because he teetered over too far and his legs couldn't keep up with him. He fell to his shoulder right behind Johnny's chair with everyone that was around the fire grimacing at him.
Dally rolled over onto his back where his groan turned into a laugh. Johnny reached down to grab the cigarettes since it had landed right by his chair. Then he looked around at all his future classmates and he asked, "can I smoke here?"
"Go for it, bud," one of the jocks said. He was the host of this camp out.
Johnny used the fire to light the cigarette, and Dally whistled at him. Johnny twisted his back and gave Dally the cigarette, for which on his first inhale his head thud to the ground and he was looking up at the stars with a dumb smile on his face.
"I want to get as hammered as that guy tonight," I heard a guy snicker with other people agreeing. It made some people go over to ransack the coolers, and coming back to the fire with beers and more whiskey.
Johnny grabbed a cigarette for himself and tossed the pack to Steve. Steve completely missed catching it, and had to turn around to try to find it in the grass behind him.
I sighed when I looked down at Dally. His giggles had passed, and now his eyes were half open and his jaw was hanging slack. His cigarette was stuck to his lip, still burning without his fingers to support it. I got down beside him and plucked the cigarette before it burned him and flicked it into the fire.
I put my hand on his chest and shook him a little. I just wanted to get him away from the fire in case he got up and fell into it. "Hey, Dally. Wake up."
He groaned softly and twitched his head as he tried to open his droopy eyes. He finally got them open enough to look at me, even though to him I was probably blurry or moving. He grumbled, "what?"
"Let's get you away from the fire," I said gently.
I grabbed Dally's shoulder and helped him sit up. His head was moving around in small circles and he widened his eyes with his gaze intent on one thing to try to help ground himself. Soda came over and squatted down next to him and grabbed a hold of his arm.
"Ready to stand, buddy?" Soda asked.
"No."
"Yes, you are. One, two, three." Soda hauled Dally up to his feet, and I stood up with them. Dally batted Soda's hands off of him and he swayed where he stood, sometimes leaning too far and having to stumble to catch his balance.
"Come on over to the tent," Soda suggested.
"No! I ain't done yet," Dally spat. His legs were wobbly and he looked like he was suffering from the spins.
"What if you and I went on a little walk," I suggested instead.
All he did was grunt, but in Drunk Dally language that was a yes. He stumbled to me, only stopping when he grabbed my arm for balance. He draped his arm over my shoulders, in his hand was the bottle of whiskey I didn't even see him pick up.
"Where are you guys going?" Soda asked.
"Just around this way." I used my finger to make a circle gesture. "It won't take long, just to try and sober him up a little."
"Want me to come with?" He asked.
"No," Dally mumbled.
I chuckled. "No, that's okay. We won't go far."
"Okay," he said wearily.
Someone walked by and shoved a beer into Soda's hand and he said, "here, man. You need it."
Soda watched us go as I walked Dally away from the smoke and the alcohol he definitely would have gotten his hands on. I hoped that just getting him away and closer to the fresh air will make him feel better. Maybe splash some water on his face.
"Can I hold that?" I asked, looking down at the bottle in his hand.
"Sure," he slurred. He brought it up to his lips first before I was able to grab it. He chugged the last of the liquid and finally gave it to me. I put my free arm around his waist to try to keep him walking straight.
"Don't you get tired of this?" I asked, looking down at the empty bottle.
"Tired of what?"
"Of this. Getting so inebriated that you can't even walk."
"S-t's the only way to do it."
"Well, I am getting tired of it," I told him. "I feel like I'm watching over a toddler."
"Then don't," he said gruffly.
"If I don't, then who will?"
"Nobody. Ain't nobody gives a hang about some drunk. Some loser. Let me—let me wake up in a pile of my own vomit. I don't care. I'll just drink again the more the next—next night so I can forget how I woke up."
"That's really fucking depressing. I'm afraid that if I do that, you will die," I muttered.
That's when I realized that I had spent so much time and effort last year being so careful to try to reverse the events of what was supposed to happen, I haven't been able to let go and let him make his own choices and suffer the consequences. I'm afraid that with this uncertainly we all live in now, that he is still destined to die young, and violent. I'm afraid he will choke on his own vomit. That he will decide to drunkenly drive home. That he will rob a gas station at gun point.
Hurt people, hurt people. I don't think the cycle will stop with him.
Dally scoffed loudly. "Die? I ain't gonna die."
"It's just a feeling that I have," I said softly.
"Just take a swig of the brown and I think you'll stop caring all about me."
"Is that why you do it?" I snapped.
"I try but it don't work."
That made me stop walking. I looked up at Dally and asked, "what doesn't work?"
"I'm trying to stop caring about you. But you make it so damn fucking difficult." His head dipped down and his flushed face expressed seriousness.
I felt my heart drop to my feet. I've had this conversation with him before, and it obviously hasn't stuck with him if he still feels like this. I didn't realize that he still had these feelings for me, I thought they passed.
He then burst into infectious giggles with a dopey smile. "You know how hard it is for me to see you with Soda? I try to get you outta my head. The way y'all are together makes me sick 'cause I want what he has. He has you."
"I'm sorry, Dally," was all I could say.
He laughed drunkenly again. "It's my fault. I fell in love with a girl from—from outta my time."
"How come you have you never told me this when you're sober?" I asked, getting him walking again.
"I may—I may have been drinkin' t'night but my mind ain't never been more clear."
"Can we talk about this tomorrow?" I asked.
Dally nodded. "Ye-yeah."
"I don't think you'll remember it if we talk right now," I chuckled.
"I'll remember," he said defensively.
"Sure, Dal," I said sneakily just so I wouldn't argue with him.
I noticed that his walking had slowed and I saw that his head started bobbing up and down a bit more. When I stopped walking he put a bit more weight into me. "Are you okay?"
His whole body was rolling while his face turned pale. My expression switched from concern to disgust when he lurched his entire body forward and puked all over the grass. On instinct, I jumped out of the way and he staggered off a bit as he continued to violently puke.
I stayed near him but distanced myself mentally so I wouldn't get sick either. Just listening to other people heave and puke makes my stomach turn.
Once I thought he was done painting the grass with his organs, he stood up straight and I walked over to him, careful not to step in anything. I asked gingerly, "are you done?"
He hiccuped, and up came the last of whatever was left in his stomach that dripped down his chin and soaked down his shirt. Now he smelled like booze, and vomit.
"Oh, gross, okay," I said and looked back at the camp site. It was too far to call out for Soda, and also too far to just leave Dally in this state. I was just going to have to deal with him by myself. Again.
I helped him shimmy his favorite brown suede leather jacket off, luckily he didn't get anything on that. I put it on myself as I led him through the dark, close to the lake without getting too close that he might fall into it.
"Sit down right here," I demanded, and he took it literally. He stopped immediately and collapsed to the ground. I came up behind him and told him to lift up his arms, he did, and I gently pulled his puke-covered shirt over his head while trying not to get more puke on his face than there already was.
It was dark and hard to see, but I brought the shirt down to the cold lake water and rubbed the fabric against itself to get the puke off of it. I ended up rolling it into a ball and bringing it back up to Dally and using it like a wet-washcloth to get the vomit off his face.
"Are you feeling better?" I asked.
His head hung low. He grumbled, "a little. My head is still spinnin'."
I squatted in front of him and used a clean side of his soaking wet shirt to wipe the mess off his face. I spoke softly, "that'll go away with time. Let me know if you feel sick again."
"Mm-hmm."
"Do you want your jacket back?" I asked.
"No. It looks better on you than it does on me anyway."
"I'm going to tell you all about this tomorrow so hopefully you never do this again," I muttered to him.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.
"For what? Being a menace?" I quipped.
"For makin' you do this."
"This is what friends are for. Now hold still, please."
He grunted and twitched his head around until he was clean. I walked back to the lake and completely rinsed the shirt out and wrung it tightly so it at least had a chance to dry overnight.
I came back to the patch of grass Dally was sitting on and sat beside him. Our shoulders were touching and he leaned against me, I don't think he meant to. "Thanks for givin' a shit about me."
"I'll always give a shit about you. I love you."
"I love you too," he grumbled.
We sat like this for a few minutes. The boisterous laughter from around the campfire sounded distant with the grasshoppers and the little water sounds around us. I heard a couple of frogs, and the flutter of leaves from either the warm light wind or the wings of birds.
Slowly and gently I felt him rest his head against me and he was taking slow, deep breathes. I exhaled in relief, the worst of it may be over. I was just going to have to think about how I was going to talk to him in the morning.
I'm also going to have to tell him that I'm dating Soda now, which he might have already figured out. That will be a difficult part of the conversation, but it pains me to know that Dally drinks himself to this state because of me. But why me? What did I do?
"Hey, I found you guys," I heard Soda's voice say softly. I didn't move in fear of moving Dally from his position so Soda came over and squatted beside me. "What are you guys doing?"
"Dally's had a rough night," I said in a low voice.
"I can see that," Soda noted. "Anything I can do?"
"Could you get him some water?" I asked.
"Of course." Soda kissed the top of my head and went back to everyone else who was still sounding like they were having fun.
After a couple of minutes, I carefully turned my head back when I heard the grass rustle behind me. Soda was trudging through the greenery with a bottle of water in his hand. I looked down at Dally and started moving my shoulder around a bit to try to stir him awake. "Hey, wake up."
"Huh?" He grunted and sat up straighter while rubbing his eye.
"Soda got you some water."
Soda slumped down beside me and reached over to hand Dally the water bottle. He took it and drank about half of it before he set it down. He looked drowsy, but fought against it to keep himself awake.
"Maybe coming here wasn't such a good idea," I said.
"Everyone else is having a good time. Even Johnny. This one kid gave him these little candies to put on the fire. Oh, what are they called... star... starlight? Star-something." When Soda spoke, I could smell the light smell of beer on his breath.
"Starbursts?"
"Yeah. Yeah, that's it," he spoke softly.
We heard more footsteps approaching us so we turned back and saw that the gang was coming over to sit with us. Two had a beer in his hands with Lillian at his hip, and Steve was walking with Johnny.
"You guys are missin' the drinkin' competition," Two said.
"Next time, man," Dally said and took another sip of his water.
"I'm a little too woozy to do it myself, if I had known I would have waited," Two said, followed by his infectious laughter.
"How are you feeling, Dally?" Lillian asked.
"Like I'm about to fall over."
"So, not good?"
He shook his head. "No."
"They're gonna be playin' some drinking games over there if you guys wanna come," Steve said.
I thought it would be best if we kept Dally over here and away from everything just until he cleared his head. I didn't want him to hurt himself or someone else in case he got angry. But at the same time, I wasn't going to tell him what to do. I looked over at Dally and asked, "what do you want to do?"
He tried to stand up but his head went to one side and he fell back to his butt. He let out a little laugh and said, "I'll just stay here."
"I'll stay too," I said. "Someone has to make sure he doesn't roll into the lake."
"I'll stay with them," Soda offered.
"Suit yourselves," Steve said. He went back to the fire with Lillian and Two to either participate or watch the drinking games. Dally would have loved it, if he was responsible.
Dally eventually finished the water we gave him which definitely helped with his dehydration. At that point the party was winding down, with drunken seniors and juniors sprawled out throughout the property, most definitely achieving their goal of getting as hammered as Dally.
Enough time had passed where I was getting really tired. I don't usually stay up anyways. Dally was asleep, and Soda was yawning sleepily beside me. Neither of us were wanting to leave Dally unattended but unsure if we should take him all the way back to the tent.
After a brief discussion, we decided to just take him back to the tent. I reached over and grabbed his bare shoulder to shake him awake. "Dally, we are going to go to the tent now."
"Can you stand?" Soda asked in a sleepy voice.
He grunted as he sat up and did struggle to get on his feet, but he stayed on his feet. Soda came around and walked beside him but he could do it on his own. He stumbled a bit and he walked with his eyes closed, but he made it to the tent.
Soda had already laid out our sleeping bags, so all Dally did was crawl onto one of them and immediately passed out. Soda let me in next, and he crawled in behind me and closed the tent. I took off Dally's jacket and put it over his bare back just so in the morning he knows where it is.
Soda and I got into our sleeping bags and faced each other. At that moment I realized that I left my bag with the extra change of clothes in the car, but I was too lazy to get up and get it so I'll just change in the morning. Soda smiled at me sleepily, and I asked, "did you have a good time?"
"Yeah, I did. It's different than back home, but it was fun."
"Yeah, it's a little different," I agreed. I yawned and didn't bother to check what time it was. I just knew it was past my bedtime. "Good night, Soda."
"Night, darling," Soda mumbled back and his eyes closed immediately.
It took a minute for me to drift off to sleep. Despite being tired, I was still coming to terms with my irrational fear of Dally dying on me. He's always been reckless and he just really doesn't care. Johnny has been on guard and timid so I wasn't so worried about him. I just don't want either of them to be punished for altering their deaths.
The next morning I was woken up to sounds of people already starting to pack up their tents and leaving. I propped myself up in my elbows and I rubbed my eye gently. I glanced over and saw Soda was still sleeping like a rock, but Dally wasn't in the tent anymore.
I sat up and carefully crawled out of the tent, and it was already unzipped. I stood up and walked out with a yawn. The sun has already risen and I noticed some people were still passed out in the grass. I glanced around and my eyes gravitated toward the lake. I couldn't stand the smokey smell that saturated into my clothes so I headed to my car first. I hopped in the back seat and changed into the sweatpants and the t-shirt that I had packed. I balled up my old clothes and left them on the seat. Then I slipped my tennis shoes back on and started my walk over to the lake.
Just as I thought, Dally was down there rinsing his mouth out with water and splashing it on his face.
"Morning," I greeted.
He looked at me over his shoulder and I saw how pale he was. His eyes were sunken in, and he just looked like he was going to suffer his worst hangover yet.
"I'm never drinking again," he just about gagged.
"Yet, you keep doing it."
"What happened last night?" He asked.
I sat down in the grass, right where we were sitting together last night. Dally came over and sat down beside me. He smelled horrid. It was like the alcohol was seeping out of every pore on his body.
"You got pretty wasted at the fire, so I took you for a walk and you threw up on yourself."
"I did?" He asked.
"Your shirt is over there." I pointed to a nearby bush that I set it on to dry. Dally glanced over at it but didn't get it. "I cleaned you up, which I really never want to do again by the way."
"You did?" His voice was soft.
"Yeah. You also told me some stuff that I think we need to talk about."
I saw a sense of dread and panic drift over his face. I think he knows what I was going to say.
"You told me last night that you still had feelings for me. Is that true?"
Dally was silent, probably trying to think of a lie in his foggy mind. When he came up empty he finally said, "yeah. Yeah, it is."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I know how this goes. Soda's the handsome one who has a job, does his best, and gets all the girls. I'm the asshole who does bad things and gets locked up. I'm the guy that gets passed over by everybody."
I didn't say anything, because he was right. I don't think we ever really had a chance. Maybe if one of us was different. He was just a soulmate who wasn't meant to be.
"Do you know?" I asked.
Dally nodded. "Soda told me he was going to ask you last night."
"I'm sorry, Dal."
"It ain't your fault," he sighed. "I'll get by somehow."
"And if you're gonna drink, you're going to have to be able to handle it. I cannot keep feeling guilty over this," I told him. He's so self-destructive and harmful to everyone around him.
He chuckled, "I'll do my best."
"I'm serious."
"I am too."
"Okay." I stood up and brushed some of the grass off my sweatpants. "I'm going to see if Soda is awake yet. I'll let you know before we leave so you can keep on being miserable over here."
"Thank you," he said with a strained voice.
I went back to the tent, where Soda was sleeping soundly. I crawled back in and rested my head on the pillow, watching Soda as he slept. Not intently, but enough to make me want to sleep beside him. I saw my future with him, and only him.