A/N: Poor Curly got so much sympathy, I added this little episode, because we trust Tim to handle it. Don't we...?
"Whaddya want me to do, Curly? You want me to turn back time, make you not get sent down? Or how about I make it so you don't get caught boosting that car, in the first place?"
He's staring at me. I can't fix it, Curly. I can't fucking fix this.
It was late summer when he got out. Within two weeks of school starting he'd been suspended for fighting. I told him then to knock it off, that if he didn't cool it, he'd be sent right back to the Reformatory. He's a goddamn walking advertisement for 'out of control youth'.
He does lay off the fighting, at least at school, but then he gets suspended for being 'unruly' in class. I suspect he was more like 'wasted' in class because he's wasted when I try to talk to him about it. That's when he yells at me, tells me that it's none of my fucking business what he does, it's his life and I can't do anything about it anyway.
"Whaddya want me to do, Curly?"
I wish there was an answer.
He stopped looking at me. He ain't looked me in the eye since he got out. But now he's staring at me. I need to do something.
When I reach out and take the bottle from him, I know he thinks I'm gonna tip it out, smash it, or something. Instead, I take a swig. I ain't big on tequila at the best of times and Christ knows where he got this, it's like battery acid.
"What're you doin'?" He's the wrong side of loaded to make any sense out of my actions. Which is probably just as well. I'm falling back on something Dom did. That ain't necessarily bad, although I know Curly is not me and not all Dom's lessons have the same impact on Curly.
As I pull Curly to his feet and shove him in my car, I remember Dom demonstrating what it was like to get so shit faced that you didn't remember stuff. But that's not what I'm going to replicate tonight. Curly already learned that lesson for himself, the tequila proves that.
I don't drink any more on the drive to Buck's place, it's enough that Curly thinks I did. I tell him to stash it in his pocket. There's been some rodeo going on and I would usually avoid that kind of after party, but I figure it will be busy with people and that's what we need. I scope out the place right away, find us a table in back, see who's around.
Takes about five minutes for them to get to us. The brunette with all the black shit on her eyes, I think I remember, Mandy, maybe? Whatever her name is, I definitely remember her friend, who is apparently blonder than she was when I got with her at a party back in August. Chicks.
"I didn't know you had a brother." That gives me freaking déjà vu. I smile. They sit with us and make nice. I remember Darlene all right. She's a lot of fun.
Curly, thinking I'm on the make, don't know whether to sulk or storm off. I tell him to sit tight, while I fetch some drinks for all of us. Now he's plain confused. This is all new to him, I never took him around like this before. Why would I have? He's just a kid.
While I'm at the bar, I reach over and get a couple of keys. One day, Buck's gonna learn to keep 'em somewhere more sensible.
"I saw that." Darlene followed me to the bar.
I shrug. "Kind of smoky down here, don'tcha think?" She smiles slowly. I bend to whisper in her ear, tell her what I have in mind. She pouts a little, but it's all an act. It ain't like she's been pining for me since August. She went with Spaghetti since then, according to him. They go to the same church.
"What? Your friend don't like me?" I challenge her pretend objection.
She says that Annie – I was close enough – likes me fine. But am I sure about the kid?
"It's his birthday," I tell her, although it's about as far from his birthday as you can get, it's nearly my birthday. But he turned thirteen in the fucking Reformatory and I owe him a present. Darlene shrugs. She goes to the Catholic school, so she don't know Curly and he don't know her. Yet.
Curly's all 'what's goin' on?' when I get back with the drinks. We down the shots and then Darlene takes him by the hand and pulls him towards the stairs. He's too surprised to argue.
You can still hear the music, up in the rooms, which is not usually a good thing, but which adds to the party feel tonight. Only this just now became a private party. I suggest to Curly that he offers round his booze while we play cards and we all sit down. I get the end with the pillow.
The chicks don't know poker, so we play a few hands of strip Blackjack, by which time they're giggling fit to bust and have lost any extras like sweaters and shoes and hair bands. Jewelry don't count, I tell 'em, else they'll be counting off bangles and earrings one by one.
Next round, Curly loses his shirt. Darlene is practically in his lap by this point. I still have my jacket on.
It hasn't occurred to any of them to ask to deal.
When I look up from kissing the brunette – Annie, I'm almost sure she was at some party or other - Darlene is kissing Curly. Or maybe he's kissing her. Either way, they're swapping spit. She gets to whispering in his ear, telling him she wants to go next door, where they can be on their own.
He looks at me.
I nod towards the dresser, where I put the other key. Now Curly looks at Darlene, who is grinning. He waits for her to do something, but she just stands there, until he grabs the key and they head out.
I know she don't get that part, but that don't matter. All that matters is that I told her to make sure he was in charge of the key.
