Chapter Seven

Author's note: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up, I was stuck at my grandparent's house for a long time, and they don't have internet. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

New Orleans

Hey guys,

I hate it here.

That was all that Johnny had on his letter home. It pretty much said it all though, his first day in New Orleans had been a disaster. America had come in to wake him up at nine thirty, just like he had said. Only Johnny didn't wake up. America wound up having to put ice cubes down Johnny's shirt. That had made him wake up really fast; he didn't know what was going on and thought he was being jumped. Johnny had accidentally punched America in the nose.

Then there was the episode with his clothes. No one in Tulsa wore shorts, but everyone in New Orleans did. All that Johnny had was jeans, so he wore them and a black t-shirt. When America's friends came over they were all wearing shorts and white or grey T-shirts. They all laughed at him behind his back. And that was just America's guy friends.

His girl friends were even worse. To Johnny, they all looked like clones. They were all wearing shorts, sleeveless T-shirts, and flip-flops. They all had their hair back in ponytails. America had introduced them all to Johnny, but he only remembered one of their names: Laurie Carter. He guessed he remembered her name because she had freaked out when she saw his cast and begged him to let her sign it. He had agreed, and Laurie had written her name and drawn a picture of a horse next to it. The horse made Johnny miss Soda, he liked horses.

During the day, Johnny called everyone by the wrong name, almost died from heat stroke, got dehydrated, and the whole day he was trying not to look at his cast because the horse drawing on it reminded him of Soda, but it was hard not to look at the cast because it was so heavy. The cast was also hot; it trapped the heat from the sun and baked his arm. His arm felt gross and slimy from sweat after just a few hours of being out in the sun.

New Orleans was not only hot, it was humid. Laurie, who was the only one that would even talk to Johnny, explained that New Orleans was so humid because it was on a lake, and farther south than Oklahoma.

There was some interesting stuff about New Orleans though. There were these things called street cars that a lot of people used instead of busses. There were a lot of districts in New Orleans, but America and his friends only went to the French Quarter that day.

"It's pretty boring now," Laurie said. "But it's pretty interesting during Marti Gras."

There weren't many trees in the French Quarter, but there were some small ones planted on the edge of the sidewalk. There were beads hanging from several of the trees, Johnny guessed that they were from Marti Gras.

Just as the day was starting to get a bit better, it got bad again. Johnny had been smoking since he was nine and he hadn't smoked in more than a day. He was craving a cigarette, so he asked if America or any of his friends had one. They didn't, none of them smoked and to make things worse Johnny got lectured on why he shouldn't smoke by most of America's girl friends. America's guy friends just grunted and said something about not being able to play sports. Johnny really wasn't paying attention. All that he could think about was that he had messed up a lot that day, but this had pushed him off the edge. Every time he had called one of America's friends by the wrong name, and that morning when he had came downstairs wearing jeans instead of shorts, America had given him this dirty look. The look pretty much said "you're making me look bad in front of my friends, don't do that." Usually it only lasted for a few seconds, but since he had asked for a cigarette, it had become permanent.

America gave Johnny the dirty look for the rest of the day. He refused to talk to him around his friends. At home, America only talked to him at dinner. What he said wasn't anything important either, it was just stuff like "Could you give me the salt?"

Ana and her husband Neil talked to Johnny a lot though. They asked him all kinds of questions: what he thought of New Orleans, what Oklahoma was like, did he have a girlfriend back home, and what school did he go to? That was fine with Johnny though, he really wasn't hungry. All that he wanted was a cigarette; he was kind of nervous because he hadn't smoked in so long.

After dinner, Johnny went to his room and dug through his suitcase looking frantically for some cigarettes. He couldn't find any. He checked his jacket pockets and found a cigarette butt. It wasn't much, but it would work. He opened the window, sat on the window sill, and lit the cigarette. The cigarette burned his fingers because it was so short, but Johnny didn't care. He smoked the cigarette until it was so short that he could hardly hold on to it. Then he put it out with his fingers and dropped it out the window.

Now he was writing a letter home. He looked at what he had written so far.

Hey guys,

I hate it here.

Johnny started writing again.

I forgot to pack cigarettes. I don't know how I did something so stupid, but I did. No one here smokes, so I can't borrow one. I tried to buy some, but I got carded and they almost called the police. Could you please send me some cigarettes? And try to hurry, I'm dying.

It's really hot and humid here. Everyone wears shorts. I only have jeans, and I looked kind of stupid. No one greases their hair either. Isn't that weird? My aunt lives in this really nice house in a good neighborhood. It's a lot better than the vacant lot. My aunt's son, America, is there too. I thought he seemed kind of nice, but now I think he hates me because I made him look bad.

I realized that I didn't get to tell Dally goodbye because he was in the cooler. How much time does he have left? Do you know how I can write him a letter? I know he won't be very happy about me leaving, and I don't want any of you guys to have to tell him.

Well, I guess that's all. I miss you guys.

Johnny

Johnny was looking at the letter when he heard someone knocking on the door.

"Yeah," he said. America came in.

America put an envelope in his hand "Pictures of my friends," he said. "It might help if you can learn their names. And a bit of advice: don't grease your hair. It went out of style years ago here."

Johnny nodded.

"I guess you can borrow some of my clothes until you get some of your own. You'd be a lot cooler," America said.

"I'd rather not," Johnny said.

"Yeah, it's kind of gross, isn't it?" America said.

"I don't want your charity," Johnny said.

"What are you talking about?" America asked. "I'm just trying to be nice."

"You weren't trying too hard earlier," Johnny snapped. "Don't think I didn't see the dirty looks you were giving me."

"I'm sorry Ok," America said. "But mom says I have to be nice to you so…"

"Fine, whatever," Johnny said. "Just leave me alone."

America stood there for a few seconds, then he started to leave. After a few seconds, Johnny heard the door close.

Johnny walked over to his desk and picked up the letter he had written. He folded it and went downstairs. Ana was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper.

"Ana," Johnny said.

She looked up "Yes," she said.

"Do you have an envelope and a stamp?" He asked.

Ana nodded and got off the couch. "Writing a letter to your friends?" she asked.

"Yeah," Johnny said.

"You're already homesick?" she asked.

Johnny nodded.

"It'll get better after a while," Ana said.

A little while later, Johnny was in his room lying on his bed. He was thinking about what Ana had said: "It'll get better after a while."

He hoped it would.