Pony and I leave the English building together like we do every other weekday. It's Friday, and family weekend is upon us at Oklahoma State.
"Your folks making the trip down to see you?" he asks, the new leaves on the trees above us casting flecks of shadows across his face as we walk.
"Oh, no. It's much too far a drive from Colorado and Matt has a track meet this weekend."
"Track, huh? Man, I miss running."
"You should've gone out for the team."
"Nah, I can't. One lap around and I get winded these days…" Pony trails off, reaching for his pocket. He pulls out a cigarette and his lighter, earning an eye-roll from myself.
"Gee, I wonder why that is," he glares at me so I change the subject, "what about you? I still haven't met your brothers."
"Yeah, I called 'em up last night. Darry's bringing the whole crew to visit, just for tomorrow though. He was afraid that if they stayed the night the other guys would end up blasted at some party or somethin'. Maybe worse."
"That's fair." I wince as some of Pony's smoke blows in my face.
"Sorry," he mutters. I shove him with my forearm, but he smiles.
"Speaking of parties…" I start, zoning out for a moment.
"What?"
"Oh. Uh, never mind."
"Suit yourself, I guess. Wanna go get your bike?"
"Sure. But we're not going back to the woods today."
"Aw, Rach, why not?"
"You know why not. Wheelies and pine trees are a terrible combination, Curtis."
Soda and Darry are at my side for the first time in months and I couldn't be happier. It sure is nice to be away from the house and all our arguments for a while, but hanging out with the gang again is something I didn't know how much I needed.
"This place sure is purdy," Soda drawls, sipping on a bottle of coke. "Is it just me, or has everything been in technicolor since the new decade started?"
"It's just you, man," Steve answers from behind us, his shoes dragging on the pavement. We're just walking, like old times, but with a change of scenery. Campus sure is a lot nicer than the east side of Tulsa, though, I'll say.
"What do you usually do on weekends, kid?" Two-Bit asks as he sidles up between me and Darry.
"Oh, y'know. Study, go to the movies, Sunday afternoons in the library-"
"That's it?! Pone, you have free reign here and all you do is study? Man, you may as well have never graduated from high school."
"Well, I am trying to get a degree, y'know. And unfortunately for all of us there's no degree program for picking up chicks and getting high."
"Damn, I'd better open up my own college then!"
I roll my eyes as we walk on, not really going anywhere. I'd showed the gang all the places I go for classes and had only spent about five minutes in the library until Steve got us kicked out. It's a shame, I'd really wanted to show Soda the section where they keep all the real old books, and I mean really old ones. He'd have dug it for sure.
We pass the music building and I hear violins, or violas, or something stringed playing out through the windows. I've always loved music but I sure ain't smart- or rich- enough for that. I'm spacing out until a voice from somewhere else calls my name.
"Ponyboy, hey!"
I wince a bit. I've been trying to go by Curtis as much as I can here, but some of my closer friends won't bite. They wanna appreciate "me" for who I am. I swear they're all hippies or something.
It's Rachel, running across the street from the music building. I know she used to play in an orchestra back home and hangs out with the music geeks, but I've never heard her play.
"Ooh, Pony, who's she?" Two-Bit jabs me in the ribs with his elbow as I shoo him off.
"Hey, Rach, how are you?" I try not to shrink back in embarrassment as Soda and Steve whisper to each other. Two-Bit is giggling and I want to sock him in the mouth.
"I'm good! Hey, which ones are your bros?"
Before I can respond, I notice how different Rachel looks compared to how she is in class. Her hair is down, for one, and she's got on these real wide-framed sunglasses like she's straight out of Woodstock.
"I'm Sodapop," Soda pushes past me and reaches a hand out to Rachel. She shakes it, smiling.
"You're the spitting image of your brother," she glows, her voice sounding funny to me compared to Soda's twangy drawl. "and you must be Darrel?" she glances over at Darry who's easily the oldest looking out of all of us.
"That I am," Darry nods. "Nice to meet you. Pony's told us all about you in his letters, actually."
I don't pay the comment any mind as Rachel laughs.
"Oh, that's nice of him. Listen, Pony, can I talk to you?"
I'm about to reply before Soda cuts me off and I notice how Two-Bit and Steve have since pushed past me.
"Ooh, is your girlfriend mad at you?" my brother teases and I feel the blood drain from my face. I don't want to look at Rachel but I can't look away. The playful spark in her azure eyes sizzles out, her face darkening.
"Um…" her cheeriness is soon replaced with the discomfort I've come to know so well. I shove past the guys, blocking out what they're saying.
"Sorry about them," I tell Rachel as I pull her away from my friends. I think I overhear Darry lecturing Sodapop, but he really didn't know any better. We walk off the sidewalk and into the grass in front of one of the school buildings. "I told you they were wild, that's why I didn't-"
"Hey, don't worry about it." I'm surprised at the interruption but even more surprised at Rachel's even tone. "I get it. It's not something I should be sensitive about-"
"Don't say that," I'm the one interrupting this time, stopping myself from putting my hands on her shoulders. "no one gets to decide what you feel bad about."
"I know, but it's been almost half a year. I shouldn't miss him anymore."
"Well, Soda's one to talk. Do you know how long it took him to get over Sandy? Remember me telling you about that one?"
"How long?"
"Two years, Rach. If he knew what you'd been through he wouldn't 'a said that."
"Well, it doesn't matter. Anyway, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to come to a party tonight. Mary and I are having some people over to our apartment and I figured you probably don't have anything else to do after your friends go home."
"A party? Wow, who are you anymore?" I feign betrayal and earn a laugh from my friend. It's nice.
"I figured I could use something other than the library on a Saturday night. And I figured you could, too."
"Hm… I'll think about it."
"Aw, come on. You know you wanna."
"Maybe. But I dunno if you want a seventeen-year-old on the premises when you're dealing with twenty drunks."
"Twenty? More like ten. And God, stop reminding me you're seventeen. Gives me the creeps."
"Yeah, I shouldn't remind myself either. I'll let you know before tonight."
"Sounds good."
"Do you wanna hang with us for a while?" I motion back towards the sidewalk where the greasers are, a single glance telling me just how impatient they're getting.
"Oh, um…" Rachel looks back at them for a second then to the ground again. "…I probably shouldn't. Maybe another time?"
"I guess. But I promise Soda didn't mean to-"
"And I promise it's okay, silly. I'll be waiting for your call."
"Don't kill me if I forget."
"You'd better not!"
I sit next to my roommate on the couch, staring up at the clock. It's 9pm and most of our friends are milling about the apartment, cups in hand.
"I thought you invited Pony," Mary asks me, sipping on a mixed drink. "He seriously ditch us for the library?"
"He'd better not have," I folded my arms, the beer bottle I'd chosen still untouched on the coffee table. "If he graduates without having been to a single party he may as well have not gone to college at all." Mary laughs before taking another sip.
"I dunno, Rach, seems like he's got this figured out better than the rest of us. Curtis'll be valedictorian while we're all barely scraping by with C's.
"Hey, I'm not getting C's!" We laugh together as I finally give in to my beer. I'm not going to let disappointment ruin my night.
"Hey, Rach, where's the vodka?" My friend Will calls from the kitchenette.
"Cabinet above the fridge. Don't be greedy, that stuff's mine!" I sink back into the couch, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling. It sure was nice to unwind after so long, and even though my mental health had been a nightmare for the past half year, I'd never really fallen into a habit of drinking. It was fun with friends, though, and nights like these, when I actually socialized, were rare.
For a while the eight of us crowd around the coffee table, sitting on chairs, kitchen stools, the armrests of couches and each other. We talk about high school, as most of us are only freshmen, and the locals talk about the different types of kids from around the state. As a not-so-local, I find myself dozing off on Mary's shoulder.
"Hey, go get that." My roommate shoves me off as I only barely hear the knocking at our front door. I step over my friends who were sitting on the floor, thankful that I'd only had half a beer as I try to keep my balance. Forgetting what I'd been disappointed about earlier, I swing open the door without checking who's there.
"Hey, Rach!"
"Pony! You forgot to call, you crazy son of a…"
Our words become a mess of banter as we hug and I make sure to get in a violent noogie for good measure.
"Come on, I did my hair up and everything!"
"Yeah, ew, now my hand's all greasy. Go sit down with everyone and I'll get you something to drink. What do you want?"
"Oh, you know me. Water is fine."
"I do know you. Lame. But I won't push it."
I'd taken the bottle from Will before he could guzzle the whole thing, remembering how much more expensive vodka was than the beer I'd since finished. Since this was my apartment, I wasn't afraid of taking all our hardest stuff for myself – Not like I have to walk home.
I'd given up my spot on the couch to Pony and was now sitting on the floor between him and Mary, laughing at nearly everything anyone said. I was buzzed for the first time in months, and boy was it fun.
"You should have some water," I look up to see Pony with a hand on my shoulder, pushing his cup in my face. "You're getting a little loopy."
"That's the point!" I just about yell at him but take a huge swig of water anyway. Laughter glimmers in my friend's green eyes. I love making my friends laugh, that's why I drink. In my stupor I trade my bottle for Pony's cup, and he doesn't protest.
As the night rolls on, Mary offers to walk half of our group back home so I take her spot on the couch. I try to arm wrestle with Pony but without a flat surface I just about pop my arm out of its socket. My music major friends, Mitch and Emily, are fighting over the record player. I tell them it's Sgt. Pepper or else they'd better get out. At one point I beg Will to let me downstairs to go get my mountain bike to take for a spin, but luckily he won't let me out the door. That would've been a disaster. When Pony wants a smoke I make him go out to the balcony, both of us feigning hatred of each other's guts. College nights sure are stupid, but they're electric.
Honestly, I hate hard liquor. I don't believe anyone who says they like it straight, but it sure does get you woozy. And for once, I'm okay with that.
It's nice to cool off with friends like this. Back home, this many drinks only meant trouble for the lot of us. The way Dally always was made me never want to drink in my entire life, but this was different. We all made sure everyone got home safe and didn't make themselves sick. Or at least, too sick. I'll still never go anywhere near a frat house but people like this can really hang. It surprised me when Will didn't let Rachel go biking down the middle of the street; I know I'd wanted to see it, but sometimes idiocy goes too far. Being from where I'm from, I know that firsthand.
I'm smoking out back after a while, watching the few cars that pass go cruising by on the street below. Their headlights blur in my vision and I'm not sure it's the brightest idea to hang out above a three-story drop while crossed. But I stay anyway, wondering if I'm really seeing that many stars in the sky this far into the city or if it's just my vision fuzzing over.
After a while I reach for the door, stumbling a bit as I call back into the apartment.
"Hey, Rach, you have some aspirin or something? My head's fuzzy."
After what was either two seconds or two hours, Rachel pokes her head into the back room and points to the door on the left.
"Medicine cabinet above the sink. Put out that light and get back in here, we miss you."
I never thought I'd hear those words from anyone but Sodapop. The friends I'd made in the past semester and a half sure were different from the friends I'd made back in my hometown.
I put out my cigarette against the brick siding outside and don't remember what I did with it after that, walking in slow motion to the bathroom. Or, at least, it feels like slow motion. I laugh to myself. It's fun.
In the bathroom I find the aspirin right away but spend a while snooping around in the medicine cabinet. For some reason I grab a different bottle and the aspirin falls into the sink with a clatter.
Peroxide, I start to laugh again, harder this time. The next thing I know I'm back in the living room, waving my arms around like a lunatic and telling the story of Windrixville like it's some crazy fun time I wish I could experience all over again. I remember acting out the killing of Bob, the cutting of my hair, reciting Gone with the Wind and finally, the fire. I think I turned into a bawling mess but I honestly can't remember. I still miss Johnny a whole lot.
The last few things that flashed through my head that night were a group hug with all of my friends and the smell of peroxide.
My eyes open wearily at some point the next morning.
I'm in my room, in my own bed, alone. I can still taste alcohol on my breath and curse myself for forgetting to brush my teeth.
It's quite a while before I bring myself to get out of bed. My head splits with pain as soon as I stand up and I desire coffee immediately.
I'm in the same clothes as the night before, a green sequined top and some loose black bell-bottoms. My perfume has definitely worn, off though. I feel like garbage. I change into an old t-shirt and sweatpants before poking my head into Mary's room.
She's asleep, legs hanging off the bed, still in her ugly dress from the night before. I decide not to wake her as I know what her morning rage can bring even without a bad hangover.
I drag myself into the front room, about to head for the kitchen until I almost fall over.
Ponyboy is asleep on my couch, and he looks like Ronald McDonald.
I must've woken up the entire apartment complex with my screeching laughter. I really can't take it, it's probably the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life. Gone is his pretty auburn hair, replaced with firetruck red.
"SHUT UP!" I hear Mary yell through the wall, but I can't stop myself. Pony blinks sleep out of his eyes and looks over at me. I'm on the floor.
"Rach, what… what's so funny…"
"Ohhhhhh man, dude, you should SEE yourself right now… what happened last night?"
"Huh?" Pony sits up an I can see the headache on his face. I almost feel bad for him but I keep laughing anyway. He notices the bottle of peroxide and the box hair dye on the coffee table and his green eyes are round as dinner plates.
"Go see yourself in the mirror… Oh boy, what did we do?"
My friend stands up a little too fast, nearly toppling to the floor beside me in the process. I'd help him to the bathroom but I am absolutely beside myself at this point.
I'm lying on the floor of the front room, tears running down my face as I hear Pony from the bathroom.
"Oh, shit."
He rarely swears, so I'm laughing even harder. In hindsight, I acted like a pretty terrible friend, but the whole thing was priceless.
I eventually make my way over to meet him, covering my mouth with one hand.
"I think I remember you said something about a girl named Cherry…"
"Cherry… Valance? Y'know, maybe I did, but this is definitely not what I was going for." Pony eyes the shower for a moment than turns to me.
"Can I wash my hair?"
"Sure, go ahead. But you're gonna smell like a girl if you use my shampoo."
"That's probably the least of my problems right now."
I brew a pot of coffee while Pony uses the shower, still trying to keep the giggles down. I still feel like hell from the hangover but the comedic relief helps more than coffee ever could. Mary eventually trudges in, pouring herself the first cup.
"What were you hollerin' on about this mornin'?" She grumbles, her drawl more noticeable with her anger.
"Oh, you'll see," I mutter, finishing up a glass of water before grabbing a mug and filling it with joe.
"Who's in our shower?"
"Ponyboy. Found him on the couch this morning."
"Hm. Any other freeloaders left over from last night?"
"Don't think so."
We hang around the kitchen in silence for a while until the bathroom door opens and Pony trudges into the kitchen, wearing the clothes he'd been in the night before.
"GLORY, PONY! What's with your hair?!" Mary gasps before falling into giggles. My eyes bug out of their sockets. He wasn't a redhead anymore – apparently washing out as much of the dye as possible had turned Ponyboy's hair a rosy pink.
"You should've seen it earlier." he glares at me, definitely grieving his "tuff" hair, as he liked to say, but I can tell he's struggling not to laugh with us.
"Oh, I think it's… cute." I start, but break off into laughter again.
"Yeah, to you. I'm gonna get eaten alive on the streets for this, yanno?"
I watch as Pony makes his way back to the couch, flopping down hard and staring at the ceiling.
"The streets?" I echo, making my way over to him. "You act like you're back on the east side and some kid in a Mustang is gonna cut you up for it."
"You sound more hood every time you talk," he mutters. I roll my eyes. I certainly do not.
"It's 1970, man. No one cares about hair anymore." Pony gives an incredulous look at my remark and I tell myself not to diss hair ever again.
"Yeah, well I care. This is just like the old days…"
"I thought that's what you wanted," I interject, memories from last night's conversations suddenly coming back to me.
"I dunno, man…" It's weird hearing him call me "man".
Suddenly, I notice the peroxide and hair dye on the table and snatch it in an instant. I hurry off to the bathroom, Mary and Pony watching quizzically as I leave without a word.
I'm sitting on the couch with Mary while Rachel is in the bathroom. The TV's on but I'm zonked out, moping internally about my hair. Man, am I thankful the guys visited yesterday and not any day afterwards. I'd never hear the end of this, not even after we're all dead and gone. Hopefully I can grow out this mop before the semester is over…
I'm brought back to my senses from the sound of someone stumbling into the room. I look up without moving my head and just about lose my mind.
"What do you think?" Rachel asks me and her roommate, posing for us in her fuzzy bathrobe. Her long, once-brown hair is now the same grisly shade as mine and she looks like some coked-up popstar.
"Oh, lordy, Rachel, not you too!" Mary grovels and buries her face in her hands. I sit up, wondering how any sober person could willfully color their hair pink.
"Now we match!" She runs over to me, that playful smile from yesterday back on her face. I can't help but return it.
"Yeah, but now we both look like fruits," I complain, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice.
"It's the '70s, Pony. It's 'in' to go all-out."
Rachel and I get a lot of questions on Monday. And Tuesday. And for the rest of the week. I know my hair will grow out fast, but hers is so long that it'll take years to get it back to normal. She says she might just cut it all off once it fades, and I don't blame her.
All I know right now is that if I don't get my tuff hair back by the time I have to go home for the summer, I'm bringing Rachel home with me so she has to share the ridicule from my brothers. I guess I want them to actually meet her, too.