Kind of short for a first chapter, but eh. Come Home Soon, Johnny needs some adult company. All the immature one-shots and drabbles are driving him crazy. LOL!
Ponyboy Curtis woke up unceremoniously at four thirty in the morning. Not caring if he woke his brother Sodapop, he made a mad dash for the toilet. He not-so-gracefully hurled last night's supper into the porcelain throne. When he was doing nothing but dry heaving, he flushed the toilet, bidding goodbye to the mess and feeling instantly better.
He brushed his teeth and cleaned off his face. Making his way into his room, he noticed his brother hadn't woken up. In fact, Ponyboy didn't think he'd moved at all. Falling mostly on top of Sodapop, he rolled until he hit his respectful side of the bed, next to the wall.
He was glad that Soda didn't even stir at the movement. The less questioning, the better. He then realized annoyingly, that it was quite muggy and too warm for his liking. His curling bangs were sticking his forehead. Beads of perspiration mixed with melted hair grease rolled into his eyes, making them sting. Using the collar of his shirt, he wiped at his eyes until they no longer watered. Attempting to ignore the swirling heat, he tried falling back into slumber.
He tried laying on his stomach first, curling his arms under his head. To be honest, it felt weird. The pressure on his stomach felt tight and uncomfortable. He was sure that if he settled on his front it would soon turn painful. Then he tried on his back. The natural arch of his lumbar wasn't agreeing with the mattress. It protested and ached until he tried on his left side. Attempting to curl his legs up to his chest, he found that the way his head lay made him feel as if he had a crick in it. Giving up, he got to his knees and realized something. Strangely enough, he was hungry.
Figuring it was due to his newly emptied stomach, he rolled back over Soda, who still didn't stir. Trudging his way into the kitchen, he thought of what he wanted first. Opening the freezer and fridge at the same time, cool air washed over him, making him sigh in relief. Peering into the lighted abyss, he saw a jar that caught his eye. Vlasic pickles were supposed to be the best, right? Ponyboy laughed quietly at the memory of seeing the ugly stork on television. He had spectacles sitting on his beak and was always dangling a crisp, green pickle in his hand.
"The pickle pregnant women crave.... After all, who's a better pickle expert?"The commercial always made Ponyboy laugh.
Even though he never could figure out if the pickle expert was supposed to be the stork, or the pregnant women.
Random fact of the day: That Vlasic commercial is real, and I still don't know who the pickle expert is.