October 15, 1965
Almost two weeks went by, and absolutely nothing changed.
Life went on, as it had to. I was still talking with Soda over the phone every couple of days. I was still underperforming at school and at practice, and I was still one misstep away from getting cut from the squad. Gary still wouldn't get off my back about Saturday's sock hop, no matter how much I was avoiding him in the school hallways. I was still too afraid of what he would do if I said no to reject him.
I had managed to back into a corner and surround myself with all my problems at once. There wasn't anywhere I could go. I could neither run nor hide. I could only wait.
I was exhausted all the time, yet I couldn't sleep at night. I had people who would listen to me, including Soda, yet I was completely and utterly alone. I was trying my best, yet it still wasn't enough. I was running out of time to put everything back together and move on as if nothing had ever fallen apart in the first place. I felt powerless against my own life. I couldn't control a thing.
I had once been so strong-brave enough to stand up for myself and the people I cared about. I'd always thought that time healed all wounds, that tragedy was supposed to strengthen you and help you grow as a person. I couldn't agree. Maybe sadness had helped other people grow, but mine had made me feel liked a weak little girl. I was no survivor. This wasn't surviving; this was barely holding on.
Marcia had joined the dance committee earlier this year, and she'd suggested I come help everyone set up. I figured I'd probably needed something to keep me busy, so I'd agreed. I wasn't really looking forward to it, but I'd needed to get out of the house. It was an annual fundraiser for the football team, and you got in for free if you helped set it up. Besides, maybe I could finally convince Gary that I wasn't interested in going out with him.
She'd somehow convinced Randy to come, too. I'd noticed him withdrawing a bit more lately. He had never been the warmest person, but it had reached the point where even Marcia seemed to be noticing it as much as I was. I could tell she was worried, and that worried me. He'd come so far, it was hard to believe he was even the same person as he'd been two months ago. Just a while ago, he'd been blacking out in the street and telling her everything was fine, and now he'd have nothing to do with alcohol. He didn't seem drunk anymore, just distant. But I didn't like that, either.
The sky had been gray all day long, and it was getting even gloomier when I heard Marcia honk the horn of her car to tell me she was here to pick me up. We'd made plans to ride with Randy, Mike, and Kathleen to the dance-Mike and Kathleen had both been on the committee for a while. I wasn't looking forward to spending half an hour in the backseat of a car with Kathleen Foster, but Marcia, being the person she was, had begrudgingly allowed her and Mike to come with us. I knew it was her car, but things hadn't gotten any better between Kathleen and me.
She'd been giving me far too many pitiful looks in the hallways lately. I refused to let up. I didn't need to apologize to anyone, especially not her. She'd deceived me for so long, and no matter how much I missed having a group of friends, I certainly didn't miss seeing people drunk at her parties or overhearing whatever nasty thing Susan had to say about me.
I got up from the living room sofa and put aside the history essay I'd been working on. I'd been alone all afternoon; Scott had gone out with his friends after a track meet, my father had been shut up in his office since nine a.m., and my mother was out running errands. It had been a rather quiet Saturday, interrupted only by the irregular staccatos of thunderbolts shaking the sky. I'd just been busy with some homework, which I admittedly should have been putting more effort into as of late, with the direction my once-stellar grades had been going in. Still, I desperately needed an excuse to leave the house, and I liked helping people out, anyways.
I opened the back door of the car and climbed in, just as it started to rain. I sat down in the middle of the backseat, between Mike and Kathleen. She turned to look out the window, where raindrops had begun to fall on the glass. "Awful weather outside," I remarked, setting my purse down on the floor.
Marcia shrugged, starting the car back up. "That's fall," she said. "It'll clear up soon enough."
Nothing had seemed to pass lately, not even the thunderstorms. I could tell from the way Randy was staring blankly out of the passenger window, and from the look Mike was giving him. It was just like Marcia to try to find a bright side, but I'd looked long and hard and come up empty-handed.
"Y'all finish the history essay?" Kathleen asked, probably wanting to talk about something other than what we all had on our minds. I should've been working on it instead of going to a dance, but I needed a break. I needed to stop thinking about how disappointed my parents would be when they saw my grades in a few weeks, even if it was only for a few hours. I'd been trying my hardest, so what more could they want from me? I wasn't their perfect daughter. So what? I was still a real person, with flaws of my own. And I didn't understand what about that my parents couldn't see.
"I've still got about five hundred words left," answered Marcia. "And it's due Monday. There goes my weekend."
"Three hundred more for me," I sighed. It had only been assigned at the beginning of the week and had to be eight hundred words in total. Since the quarter would be ending so soon, we'd have even more work to do next week.
Marcia shook her head. "It's too much. You're lucky you don't have Mr. Weston for history, Randy. Sure wish I was graduating next year."
"And have even more essays to write?" Randy scoffed. "Think I'd rather just be stuck with Weston for another year."
I hated the mood in the car. I couldn't even imagine how a party could turn one of my closest friends into a sworn enemy, but here we were. And it wasn't going to get any better, no matter how much any of us wanted it to. I'd been taught that lesson already.
Kathleen kept glancing at me, looking like a dog that had just stolen a piece of steak from the dinner table and gotten caught doing it. I wished she would cut it out. It made me feel guilty, even though I thought I had made the right decision. Even if she really was sorry, I still wasn't ready to call her my friend again. She should have been sorry, and I wasn't obligated to forgive her because of it.
I did feel bad for Marcia, though, who was trying to keep everything at least civil. It was-right now, at least. She was a good person-one of the best people I knew, next to Sodapop Curtis. But I wished she'd just told Kathleen to just drive herself to the dance. I could tell she was wishing that, too.
In an attempt to end the painful silence, she turned on the radio. I was relieved; I couldn't take any more of it, though I didn't think Elvis Presley was too much better.
The rest of the ride was spent in almost total silence, except for the sound of the radio. It was strange, but it was better than fighting. Silence was hard to come by, especially with Mike. I'd watched him make a complete fool out of himself at almost every party I'd gone to. I didn't know him very well, but he got on my nerves. I'd put up with him because I'd been friends with Kathleen. I couldn't really stand anyone I knew anymore. It sounded harsh. But I didn't understand how they could watch three kids get killed and then carry on as if nothing had ever happened. There was no way they didn't care, they just couldn't find a way to express it. It was as if no one thought anymore. They all just did, without thinking about what would happen if they kept it up.
We couldn't have reached school soon enough, but somehow we did without much trouble. The wind had started to pick up, and I could tell we were in for a storm. It was pouring by the time I got out of the car. I grabbed my purse as fast as I could and almost ran into the gym, everyone else following close behind.
A few people were already gathered in the center of the room. I recognized James, holding some blue and gold streamers from the craft store downtown. I didn't know anyone else, except for Debbie and Lisa, who were talking on the bleachers. It was a pretty small group, but I wasn't surprised. Hanging up streamers and posters and inflating balloons wasn't what most kids wanted to do on a Saturday afternoon. I'd only signed up because Marcia was doing it, and I'd needed an excuse to leave my bedroom for a while.
Debbie was tall, with wavy brown hair that went to her shoulders. She was the sort of person to get along with everyone. We weren't close friends, but I liked her a lot. People like her were hard to find-she reminded me of one of the princesses in the Disney movies I used to watch as a kid. Gentle and sweet, yet still strong-willed and self-assured. Sometimes I wished I was someone like her.
Lisa, on the other hand, wasn't a great person. She had short, curly dark hair, and chestnut brown eyes that I felt were judging me every time Lisa so much as glanced my way. She was head cheerleader, and was on a perpetual power trip, trying to climb even further up the social ladder with each move she made. I didn't think anyone really liked her, but her father was wealthy, and she was drop-dead gorgeous, so she was popular by default.
Our group separated as Kathleen and Mike both headed towards James, and Marcia and I made our way across the gym to say hi to Debbie and Lisa. Randy tagged along with us. I could tell he felt like he had nowhere else to go, and I felt sorry for him. It wasn't his fault Susan had spiked the punch, and it wasn't his fault none of his friends could learn from their mistakes. They'd all testified against Bob, but had then gone back to their old lifestyles, pretending something like that couldn't ever happen again.
"Some storm," she remarked, glancing up at him. I nodded, staring up at the skylight our gym had. It had been a gift from the graduating class of '54. I could see the clouds in the sky growing darker by the second. My hair was already wet, and I'd only been outside for thirty seconds since it'd started raining. "We'll end up in Oz if we're not careful."
Sometimes Oz didn't sound quite so bad to me.
Debbie waved as we approached her, a smile on her face. Lisa nodded, but I saw her eyes roll when she saw me. I'd hardly spoken two words to her in my entire life, and she still trusted what Susan had to say about me, no matter how ridiculous all of it was.
"Hey," she said cheerfully. "How've y'all been?"
"Pretty good," I answered, faking a smile. "Just haven't had much to do all day."
"Wish I could say the same," Debbie replied. "All I can do on Saturdays now is fill out college applications."
Randy laughed, and I could tell he was faking it, too. "Are you doing early decision, too?"
Debbie nodded. "I really should've listened to my mother and started writing essays over the summer. I didn't start until the beginning of August, and by then school was already in session."
"Where are you guys applying to?" Marcia asked.
"My goal's Ohio State, since I've got family up there and I know I can get in," began Debbie. "I was thinking William and Mary, too, even though it's a stretch. And Villanova, since it would make my father happy. I liked the University of Oklahoma, since it'll be in state. Oh, and Santa Barbara, because, you know, California."
"I've been thinking Stanford," answered Lisa. She laughed to herself. "If I don't get in, I know my old man can pull a few strings."
"Me and David Holden are both looking at the University of Oklahoma," said Randy. "Same football scholarship, too. I've really been hoping to get in, though, even if I don't get it."
"You will," Marcia told him confidently, and I saw him slightly grin.
"Anyways," Lisa interjected. "What'd you bring to decorate with?"
Debbie held up a Tupperware container. My mother frequented the parties hers threw. "I made some cupcakes. I heard Kathleen did, too, though, so I'll probably be taking most of them home."
"I'm sure they're fine," I reassured her, smiling again.
She laughed. "I hope so. I worked pretty hard on 'em."
Marcia opened up her backpack and pulled out a roll of parchment paper. "Mrs. Anderson said we could make a poster to hang up, if there was enough time, so I went downtown and bought some paper for it. Cherry, you brought the supplies, right?"
"Should be in my purse," I told her, searching through it. But I couldn't find them. "I could've sworn I put them in here."
I'd been so absent-minded lately, I couldn't even remember to do the simplest things anymore. The supplies for the poster were sitting on top of my bed, inside of a plastic shopping bag.
"Did you leave them at home?" Marcia asked. "You can probably make it there and back in thirty minutes or so. We've got a while until the dance starts, and it's not rush hour yet. I'll just tell Mrs. Anderson you'll be late."
"That's fine," I said, wanting to kick myself in the shin. "I'll need to borrow your car, though."
Marcia reached into her purse and grabbed her set of car keys. "Right. Try not to crash it, will
you? I just got it a couple months ago."
"I'll do my best," I replied. I wasn't looking forward to having to go out in the rain again, but I didn't have a choice. I took her keys and started towards the car.
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The house was still as good as empty when I got home. Not wanting to disturb my father at work in his office, I parked the car in the driveway and crept up the stairs. Devoted to his job, my old man didn't like it when we interrupted him while he was working on a case, so I did my best to be quiet as I grabbed the shopping bag off my bed and locked the door to the house again.
It was still raining out, and even harder now. The clouds blocked out any sign of a sunset. I hadn't seen such a dreary day in a while now. It was only around four fifteen, but it seemed like ten at night with how dark the sky was. Eager to get back to the dance, I pulled out of the driveway and headed back down the road. We still had until six to finish setting up, since the dance was set for seven thirty and we all wanted to grab dinner first. There was a place near school called Joe's we all liked to eat at, which was known for their French fries. Their burgers weren't all that great, and I usually got a salad, anyways, but their fries were the best I'd ever had.
I reached over to turn up the radio-it had gotten awful lonely in the car after a while-and that was when I noticed the car was low on gas. Scanning the horizon for a filling station, or at least a sign for one, I recognized the sign for the DX at the end of the road. I felt sorry for the attendants in this weather, especially when I spotted Soda standing at one of the pumps, his hair soaking wet with rainwater. He wasn't working on a car, so I pulled up to the station. He grinned at me, and I rolled down my window.
"You come here for me?" Soda asked, raising his voice over the howling wind.
"I just need some gas, actually," I replied. "It's nice to see you, though. Sorry about the weather being so bad."
Soda shrugged and started filling up the car's tank. "It's my job. I don't really mind it, either. Tuff car you've got, by the way."
"It's Marcia's," I told him. "I'm borrowing it. I'm helping her set up for the dance tonight, but I left some stuff at home."
"Pony told me about that," said Soda. "Maybe you'll catch him there later. Think he's goin' with a couple friends."
I hesitated. I wanted to talk to him; I really did, but what was I supposed to say to him? I hadn't seen him in weeks, though Randy had told me he had, and so much had happened in those weeks that I'd have no idea where to start. I knew what people would say about me, but I barely even cared about that anymore. No one who talked like that was worth it. I just wasn't sure how to approach him after any of it, and I wasn't sure he wanted me to, either.
He'd been angry when he'd left. I understood why. I'd only been trying to help, but I'd made mistakes. I still wondered to myself from time to time whether or not I should have visited Johnny Cade that day he was in the hospital. I'd owed it to him; it was my boyfriend who had caused all of this, as much as it pained me to say so. It was still the truth. But he was still my boyfriend. I couldn't just get over him being killed in a week. I hadn't even gotten over it in seven.
"I'll look for him there," I responded after a moment's silence. "I haven't spoken to him in forever. I've been so busy."
"Yeah," Soda sighed, staring off into the distance. "Sometimes I miss stuff like that. I mean, I like workin' on cars here, but I sort of miss takin' Sandy out to those."
"Was Sandy your girlfriend?" I asked. Soda nodded. "Sandy Fleming? She was in my art class."
"That's her," Soda replied. Then I stopped.
Sandy Fleming was the girl in my art class who had moved to Florida a few weeks back. I'd heard from Susan she'd gotten pregnant-the one thing from Susan I'd ever really believed, since most of us could tell. If she'd cheated on Soda, then-
The baby must not have been his.
No wonder he'd seemed so upset about the whole thing happening. "Oh," I said, at a complete loss for words. "I'm sorry."
He turned his head the other way. "Don't be. I'm sorry I brought her up."
"That's just awful," I replied. Sandy had seemed to be such a nice girl, and I'd never thought her the type to do something like that. I'd never been cheated on before, that I knew of, but it couldn't have been a good feeling. "Does anyone else know?"
"Just Darry," he replied. "Him and Steve. The full story, I mean." Soda paused for a second. "The tank's full. That's three bucks."
I handed him a five. He grinned. "Keep the tip. Weather's horrible."
"Awful windy out," Soda remarked, his smile starting to fade. We exchanged nervous looks. "You don't think-"
I rolled up the window and stepped out of the car, holding my purse over my head as a crude umbrella. "We'd better get inside."
I didn't think there was a tornado coming; there hadn't been a warning on the radio, but we'd had them before, and I didn't want to take any chances. Soda and I headed towards the building, the other attendants following us inside. I'd have a lot to explain to Marcia when I finally got back to school. I doubted the power would stay on for much longer, though, and there wasn't going to be a dance if it didn't.
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A/N: Shout out to BIGLARRY in the reviews. He's my little brother (whom I read the Outsiders to a little while ago) if anybody was weirded out. Also, shout out to everyone who supported In a World of Hazy Colors. (2020-2020). I'm sorry if I let anyone down by stopping writing it; it was really stressful for me to write and I just couldn't do it anymore. I hope everyone is doing well, and I'm looking forward to the next chapter of this story. I have a ton of plans for it, and I keep getting new ideas for where it may go (Randy's scholarship might be important later on).
P.S.: I'm really sorry this took so long; a lot has happened since I published chapter six. I needed a few days after the whole Hazy Colors thing (thanks for everyone being nice to me, by the way). I hope no one is upset about that, but it was causing me a lot of stress and I knew I needed to stop writing it. I'm going to try to update every two weeks or so from now on.
This Thanksgiving, I know I'm grateful for all of you and your support. You have no idea how much all the kindness has boosted my confidence about my writing. Love you all, and stay gold.