It was quarter after one when we pulled into the DX station. It's my sixteenth birthday, and we've been joyriding around in my brand-new Cadillac all morning. Well, technically my birthday was Wednesday. Today's my party, but it's all the same. It's all about me, the way it should be.
Tessa looks in the mirror to make sure her makeup is still perfect. The station isn't exactly on our side of town, but they have the cutest attendants. Going a little out of the way to get that million-dollar smile from the Curtis boy is well worth it. He's probably the biggest flirt in Oklahoma. If talking game was an Olympic sport, he'd take home the gold. Not that I keep up with the goings-on of greasers, but I noticed he didn't come back to school this year. Rumor is since his Momma and Daddy died his brother made him drop out. Told him to get a full-time job to pay the bills, or he would ship him off. Now neither of them gets to go to college. It's a shame.
Unfortunately, our blonde-haired hunk wasn't who came ambling to the car. Tessa made no effort to hide her disappointment. The Curtis boy's counterpart wasn't bad looking. Under all that grease and motor oil you could call him handsome. Maybe, if he'd wipe that sour puss look off his face. I don't think I've ever seen him with less than a scowl, let alone a smile. Then again, he's normally tinkering in the garage, all the attention is on Mr. Hollywood. I'm not sure many pay him much mind, but boy could the two of them really be trouble if Grumpy learned to relax a little.
Soon Tessa flung the door open, "I'm gonna get us a couple cokes." She said, a wild grin overtaking her features. Then she was off inside to join the gaggle of swooning girls. I knew it wouldn't take her long; she'd push right to the front. Tessa Birmingham didn't wait her turn, she took what she wanted when she wanted it. We all did. When you have a notable last name and the money to back it up the world is your oyster.
"Fill it up, please." I turned my attention back to the attendant. Before I could even think to stop, my face scrunched up at just how dirty his hands were. He'd attempted to wipe them off on a rag hanging out from his pocket, though it didn't do much. It wasn't really intentional, and he must have thought the look was meant for him specifically because the lines between his eyebrows only deepened. It wasn't exactly, I just wasn't too keen on the fact his grubby hands were about to dirty up my brand-new car. He muttered a response and started pumping. I didn't bother to correct his assumption. If he wanted to think the worst, that was his problem.
Through the front windows, I could see Tessa leaning almost across the counter, twirling a strand of brunette hair around her finger. If she leaned any farther they'd be nose to nose. She was eating up whatever line he was selling, or maybe it was the other way around. The likelihood of her talking her way into two free cokes was high. It's not that she didn't have the money, she simply likes to see how much she can get away with. You'd be surprised how much batting your eyelashes and feigning innocence will get you. We've long since mastered that skill.
A grumbled total grabbed my attention. I pulled the money out of my purse and an extra five, "Keep the change." It wasn't an apology, to be clear. Seeing as it's my birthday I'm feeling generous. Plus, Daddy always said the best way to make sure you're taken care of is to tip.
There was no smile or soften to his permanent scowl, but he did give a quick, "Thanks," Before shoving the money in his pocket and moving on.
"Ow, Dani," I'm not sure if the way Tessa managed to stretch those two words into twice as many syllables was impressive or pathetic. I was sure that if she kept whining I was going to whack her in the head with this curling iron.
"Hush up, or you can do it yourself." It was an empty threat but still earned a huff. Didn't matter how gentle you were Tessa whined worse than a child getting her hair done. You'd think she'd do it herself, but she always wanted someone to do it for her. Claimed she loved having people do her hair. After years of practice, I tuned her out easily. Sometimes I'll give her hair a little extra tug so she has something to whine about.
When I finally got her to sit still, my sister obnoxiously flopping down on the bed caught her attention. Always over the top, Lori flopped around like a fish out of water, purposely to mess up the neatly made bed and hit a nerve. Tessa jerked her head over to see who it was (like it would be anyone else); she was lucky I didn't singe off a chunk of her hair, "Lori," She whined, looking for sympathy. I turned her head back forward, "Is she this rough when she does your hair?" If it weren't just the three of us, she'd have big crocodile tears in her eyes. Tessa was always one for theatrics.
Laughter was the only response she got, "It'd be easier to do a grizzly bear's hair than get Lori to let me do hers." I snorted another laugh, "Not even sure she has a hairbrush." A pillow whizzed right past me before skidding across the floor. I could feel the heat of Lori's glare, both for my comment and her atrocious aim.
We were polar opposites, me and my baby sister. She's not really my baby sister, but she is the youngest of the Adderson clan. We're actually only eleven months apart. For a whole month each summer we're the same age. As close as we are in age, I'm still closer to my older brother Randy. Not that we have much of an age gap either; he's only a year older than me. Lori doesn't see life the same way we do. We tell her all the time she showed up on the doorstep one day, and Mom decided to keep her. Sometimes, I swear it's the truth and not some story we made up to mess with her. Lori marches to the beat of her own drum and couldn't care less about social status or money. It gets on my very last nerve. Anything she could ever want at her fingertips, and she'd rather run around looking like a delinquent. Never mind the company she keeps, lots of greasers and some middle-class kids, that's not even the worst part. It's like she tries to look and act poor on purpose as if she's some East Side charity case. She claims she likes what she likes and wears what's comfortable. That she hangs out with people she likes and gets along with, regardless of where they're from. I think it's some weird rebellion; she gets a thrill out of it. Plus, it gets under my skin, Randy's too. That's her favorite pastime.
"Unlike Danielle, I don't need to spend hours prepping and primping to feel good about myself." She retorted, making a show of rolling off the bed causing Tessa to giggle. Part of the reason Lori acts the way she does is for attention. Not that she'd ever admit it; she'll deny it to her grave. She craves a different type of attention than I do.
"If you plan on looking homeless tonight, you better stay upstairs." I looked up to the mirror of the vanity to try and see what Lori was getting into. She always had to rummage through my stuff. Currently, it was my closet. As I said, her favorite pastime was annoying me.
"Heaven forbid anything is not perfect and pristine for your birthday party Your Majesty!" The sarcasm dripped from each word. One hand clutched her chest, the back of the other daintily placed against her forehead as if she were going to faint. She's lucky she wasn't in arms reach, I would have whacked her one good.
"Why don't you go bother Randy or anybody else? And stop touching my stuff." Hard as I tried to hide the irritation in my voice, it didn't work. I knew without looking Lori had a smug grin. Her work here was done.
"Fine," She sighed dramatically, "I'll leave. Back to my hoodlums and miscreants, to finish plotting how to overthrow the biggest party of the land."
And with that, she was gone. Not giving me a chance to threaten her if she swiped something. The likelihood of her taking anything she could get her hands on was high. Lori was always snatching my things like I wouldn't notice. A lot of stuff I won't until she brings it back. Hanging around those greasers she's picked up on their nasty habits. 'Sticky fingers' isn't a reputation you wanted to have.
The betrayal of laughter from my best friend got her a glare. She tried her hardest to keep it in until Lori left, but failed miserably, "Don't encourage her." I sighed, combing my fingers through her hair breaking up and loosening some curls.
"Sorry, she's funny." Tessa wasn't sorry in the slightest, and wouldn't hold that same sentiment if she lived with the comedian. She fluffed her hair, content with what I'd done, and doused her head in hairspray. In the end, the brutal August heat and humidity would overpower everything, rendering all that hard work useless.
Now Tessa busied herself digging through my closet as I sat in her place fixing my own hair, "Can I borrow your earrings?"
"Which ones?" I wouldn't be surprised if she'd found a pair and was already putting them on.
"The gold ones, I don't see them in here," She trailed off.
"They should be right there. I just put them away yesterday." I got up to investigate, and in the pit of my stomach already knew what happened. Nonetheless, I checked my jewelry box and anywhere else a pair of earrings might be. The Adderson bandit strikes again.
"Mallorie!" I stormed out of my room and down the hall. The brat was probably long gone by now, but I'd scream for her until I was blue in the face if I had to. Lori was like damn Houdini, if she didn't want to be found she wouldn't be, "Mallorie Joyce, I swear on all things holy." I had to grit my teeth to stop myself from letting out a long string of less-than lady-like threats.
The force with which I threw her bedroom door open could have easily put a hole in the wall. Again, I hollered her name to the empty room. She wasn't here, I knew that before I even barged in. Slim chance I'd find what I was looking for. I started going through her room regardless, cursing her out under my breath all the while. My white cardigan sat draped across her chair, one of my lipsticks and mascara atop her bedside table. Even one of my records sat on her desk; she doesn't even like The Beach Boys.
I must have looked as graceful as a bull in a china shop ravaging through the room because I heard a bemused chuckle after a few minutes. Bob stood leaning in the doorway. That grin on his face almost made me forget what I was doing in the first place, "Everything alright?" It was a rhetorical question, and I could see the amusement dancing in his eyes.
I pushed the desk drawer I'd been rummaging through closed as I turned to face him, "Just looking for the earrings my kleptomaniac sister took." With a huff I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning back against the desk. His grin only grew wider, entirely too entertained by my frazzled state.
"So I heard, clear over at my house." He laughed again, hitching his thumb toward his house; I rolled my eyes. The Sheldons have lived next door long before any of us were born. Our fathers have been friends since they were in elementary school. Sure did make them proud their sons were best friends too.
In an instant, he'd crossed the room. Gently, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear to avoid any protest. He knew me well enough to know the fit I'd throw if he so much as messed up a single curl. Without a chance to respond, his lips were on mine in a soft kiss. His hand was on my waist, and I looped my arms around his neck. Suddenly, I forgot what I was even mad about just moments ago, "Happy birthday baby doll," He murmured gently, his lips trailing along my jaw to the crook of my neck. Ever tempted to leave a mark, staking a claim, he stopped short. As he always did. We make fun of the fast girls who came to school riddled with hickeys. It was tacky.
"I got you something," He pressed his lips to mine again, fishing something out of his pocket. A small velvet box sat in his hand. If it were possible my eyes would have bugged right out of my head. He hesitated a moment before opening the small box. Partly to let the anticipation build, partly to toy with me. Inside sat a gold chain adorned with a diamond pendant. One stone in the center encircled with several smaller stones.
"Bob," I gasped, taken aback by the surprise, "It's beautiful." Those were the only words I could form. Somehow Bob was always able to leave me at a loss for words. Romance was not something he was known for, especially stone-cold sober. I'd learned a long time ago never to underestimate a Sheldon.
"Not as beautiful as you," He said smoothly, moving to place it around my neck. I swept my hair out of the way so he could clasp the chain. Once he did, I turned to the mirror above the dresser to admire it.
Gingerly my finger traced over the pendant, even in the half-decent bedroom lighting it shimmered, "Thank you." I'd managed through my awe and excitement.
Bob was quickly behind me, arms wrapped around my frame, chin resting on my shoulder, "Only the best for my favorite girl." A soft pink tinged my cheeks; I hated that I was such a sucker for him. I hated that there was no better feeling in the world than this. Staring back at our reflections, I touched his cheek savoring this rare tender moment. Where Bob was just Bob, the boy next door. No reputation to uphold, no image to portray. All that macho shit is parked at the door. He playfully nuzzled and nibbled at my neck, knowing each ticklish spot that sent me squirming in his embrace. I turned his face to meet his lips once more. A silent thank you and a redirect of his attention. Before that sensitive spot on my neck turned to the ticklish spot on my sides that turned into a fit of laughter. Only egging him on until we were both out of breath, me from pleading with him to stop and him from laughing at me.
A commotion down the hall stole my attention. The distinct high-pitched chattering of teenage girls let me know the rest of my friends had arrived. Marcia Sinclair, Sue Wentworth, Cherry Valance, and Patsy Calloway completed my inner circle. I don't remember how it came to be, but it's been the six of us since elementary school. We all live in the same neighborhood. Mother wouldn't allow playdates with anyone who lived more than a few streets away. You can't trust everyone, was her nice way of saying she didn't want her children playing with any of the poor kids.
"I think that's my cue," I said reluctantly, a sigh escaping my lips.
"You wouldn't want to disappoint your faithful followers." He snickered, only half joking. Most of the time those girls clung to my every word. I liked to think I was the be-all, end-all of our group. In reality, I was just the most vocal and least timid.
The next couple of hours were spent gossiping, with a bit of primping sprinkled in. Judy Williams and Billy Grant broke up; she planned on coming tonight with Billy's best friend, Dean. We aren't talking to Linda Floyd on account of her flirting with Sue's boyfriend. Ron Bennett failed most of his classes last year, that's why no one seems to share a class with him this semester. It could be worse. He could be like that Mathews kid, eighteen and still a junior. Wouldn't be surprising if he's still a junior when he's eighty. Patsy started passing a flask around, taken from her brother, no doubt. One little flask and six girls didn't do much. Bless her heart, she tried.
We'd eventually make our way downstairs. Randy and the boys had already gotten into Daddy's liquor cabinet. Our parents were out of town this weekend, a strategic plan on their part. It was easier, and more peaceful, to turn a blind eye. Foot the bill for a party but not deal with half the teens in Tulsa parading through the house. Word had been going around for weeks, before school even started back up. Everyone who was anyone would be here, that I made sure of.
The stragglers who showed up uninvited wouldn't be turned away. Not this time. Unless Lori tried to usher in some hoods. That's not the kind of drama I lived for. Watching Billy and Dean bicker and inevitably start to tussle was more my speed. One good shove sent them both tumbling into the pool. Didn't register with anyone else they were arguing, it was just an open invitation to follow suit and jump in. That was that. The party kept rolling, and the drinks kept flowing. The unmistakable skunky scent of a joint wafted through the air, and I knew it was just the beginning of the party favors to come.
I, of course, was the center of attention. Not that it was much different from normal. I liked to think the world revolved around me. At least the social scene in Tulsa did. The last twenty minutes I was stuck chatting it up with a couple girls who didn't make the cheer team, and a few of the JV football players. There was only so long I could soak up compliments and flirt with the boys before they lost my interest. I excused myself to get another drink, though I didn't need to. The mention of needing a drink and at least three people would jump to remedy that. Normally Tessa would bail me out of a situation like this, but she was too busy sucking face with her boyfriend. Marcia and Cherry were dipping their feet in the pool. Patsy and Sue had Linda cornered, probably making her regret even looking at Sue's boyfriend. Ironically, he was currently schmoozing a freshman on the other side of the pool. That was going to be an interesting bit of drama later on.
Randy, Bob, and David stood huddled in the shade, shooting the shit. I went to interrupt because nothing was more important than me at my own party. Until I caught wind of what they were talking about. Randy went on about Marcia like he always did. Like he's never had a girlfriend before. He didn't shut up about her. That wasn't what hit me like a freight train.
"I asked Cherry to go steady," Bob said to a chorus of approval.
"Only took you all summer," David laughed, giving Bob a congratulatory squeeze on the shoulder.
"Things are starting to get serious." He shrugged, bringing his drink to his lips.
A fling, that's what he'd said it was with Cherry. Something fun during the summer, to pass the time. Nothing serious will come of it. Our thing wasn't really a thing, a fact I was painfully aware of. But Cherry fucking Valance? I felt like all the air had been sucked out of my lungs. Like I'd been kicked right in the chest. The scowl I emanated must have burned right through Randy's head, and Bob's shit-eating grin faltered the tiniest bit. I hadn't been meant to hear any of that. I turned on my heel and stalked right into the house.
"Dani," He called out, as loud as he could in a whisper. I didn't acknowledge him or so much as hesitate. He wouldn't raise his voice, for once not wanting to raise any attention. I'm not sure what he said to slip away so suddenly, nor did I care, "Danielle!" It was as close to pleading as I've ever heard from Bob Sheldon. Rarely did he call me by my full name; it was almost enough to make me stop. Almost.
Rounding the corner toward the living room is where he caught my wrist. I whipped my head back to glare at him, to tell him to let go of me. I was fully ready to tell him off. Before a word could even escape my lips he'd backed me into the wall. Pressing his forehead against mine, he cradled my face in his hand. It took all the strength I had not to completely melt into him.
"Baby doll," He was so close I could practically taste the liquor on his lips. The tips of our noses brushed against each other. Goosebumps rose on the back of my neck feeling his breath on my skin.
"Don't Robert." The words were curt, and I placed a hand on his chest. The intention was to tell him to back off and leave me alone. I didn't want to hear any of the shit he was spewing. There was no real action behind it. Just like there was no real anger in the two measly words I'd managed. Because in reality, I lapped up those words like I was dying in the desert and they were the water that saved me.
"You know I love you," His words were sugary sweet, despite the fact they slurred together slightly. Even tipsy he was always so convincing. He knew exactly what to say to make me crumble. My head was buzzing, I'm not sure if it was from the alcohol or the exhilaration of hearing his smooth talk, "But it has to be this way." He sounded as pained as I felt, though the sincerity was questionable.
"Why?" I challenged. Deep down I already knew his answer. The same line he'd always spun, over and over again.
"You know why." His lips grazed against mine with each word, our bodies almost completely pressed against each other.
"That's bullshit." I turned my head away from him slightly. Not that I had much room to, and if I'm being honest I didn't want to anyways.
A second later he placed his free hand on the other side of my face, turning me back to him, and gently pressed his lips to mine. My heart skipped a few beats as I fell into the affection I so desperately craved. Damn him. I should have pushed him off me. Cussed him out up and down. Slapped him right across his stupid irresistible beautiful face. Thrown that stupid necklace right back at him. I should know better. But we both know he had me in the palm of his hand, literally and figuratively.
"Randy's my best friend. He'd kill me for being with his little sister." Bob's never lost a fight in his life. Nor had there ever been a time he didn't get what he wanted. The word 'no' simply was not in his vocabulary.
"You're not scared of Randy," I said matter-of-factly. No one was scared of Randy. Maybe a lone greaser on the East side. Even then they'd only be scared of the group. If it was one-on-one I'd put my money on any one of the little middle schoolers they loved to terrorize, "You're only into redheads now, is that it?"
I could feel a smirk form on his lips and knew he wanted to shake his head. He gave a half-hearted chuckle, clearly less than enthused by my quip. Anyone with a lick of sense didn't speak to Bob that way, those that dared tended to regret it quickly. That's why he kept coming back, secretly he liked having someone who didn't blindly follow him. He liked being challenged. Or maybe he liked that he didn't have to be all big and bad when it was just us. All those walls he'd built up, that facade he used, could come down and he wasn't afraid to be vulnerable. I'd never dream of breathing a word of it to anyone, because I knew I'd kill him if he did the same to me.
"Baby, you know that's not true." He didn't dare throw sarcasm back. It would ruin everything he'd worked so hard to smooth over. He was doing a great job of sounding desperate and hurt.
"Could've fooled me." I sighed. Too stubborn to give up and let it go. I could listen to him beg all night, though we both knew that wasn't necessary. He wouldn't put in this much effort if he didn't care, right? "Things are getting serious, huh?"
"That was just guy talk. She doesn't mean anything to me." His words were dismissive.
I gave a cold laugh, "Then why waste your time?"
"We just have to play it safe...for now," He trailed off avoiding the question. Giving the same excuse he always did, and promise things would be different soon. Before I could even consider getting another word in he kissed me again. Short and sweet, so rudely interrupted by shouting from the others making their way inside.
"Bob? You need help?" It sounded like David, though I couldn't immediately place the giggles I heard following him.
Bob cleared his throat slightly before responding, "Yeah in here," He called, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. One last caress of my cheek, and he stepped back as if nothing ever happened. He walked over to the liquor cabinet grabbing a few bottles, one of which he shoved in my hands.
It was David, flanked by Marcia and Cherry, whose face lit up at the sight of Bob, "There you are Bobby," Cherry cooed, and Bob slung an arm around her. I fought every urge inside of me not to roll my eyes. He could have his pick of the litter, any girl in Tulsa, and he picked Sherri Valance. The most soft-spoken, timid, prudish redhead I'd ever met.
"The birthday girl had the same idea." Bob swirled the bottle in his hand to praise from David and Marcia. His excuse must have been he was getting more refreshments. Cherry wasn't too enthused with all the booze and partying, but I knew she was too infatuated with Bob to say anything. She was too polite to turn down a party invitation from one of her closest girlfriends either. With that famous Sheldon smile plastered across his face, Bob lead the pack back outside to the party. David eagerly took one of the bottles from Bob's hands. Cherry giddily went back to what she'd been chattering about previously, Bob's arm securely around her.
Before they were out of sight Bob looked back over his shoulder. I held his gaze until he nodded for me to follow as if I should be at his beck and call. That longing look had a lot less meaning with an uppity new girlfriend clinging to his side. I stood there defiantly, unscrewing the top of the liquor bottle before bringing it to my lips. I relished the burn of the liquid down my throat, glad to feel something other than lovesick for even a moment. Finally, he turned back, not waiting around or asking again. Bob Sheldon waits for no one.
This isn't over, and I know it's my bed he'll end up in tonight. He'll do the gentlemanly thing and take Cherry home. Make sure she gets there safe and sound, no matter how much she protests because he's too sloshed. And he'll end up right back here with Randy and the guys. In the den drinking, maybe even sneaking a cigar until slowly but surely they all pass out drunk or fall asleep where they sit. Not Bob, he'll be the last man standing, as always. That's when he'll climb the stairs, make his way down the hall and slide quietly into the second door on the right. Slink under the covers thinking, in his inebriated state, that he's being delicate. The shift of the mattress underneath him wakes me every time, though I pretend it doesn't. I let his arms envelop me, his face nuzzled in my hair. The scent of whisky is overpowering, not just on his breath but seemingly seeping out of his pores. And he whispers sweet nothings in my ear, thinking I'm still asleep and I don't actually hear, but I always do. It makes my heart flutter, and I give a fake sleepy sigh nestling close to him. He kisses my head gently, before slowly slipping into unconsciousness. His soft snores help lull me back to sleep as I convince myself his girlfriend is temporary, just for show. I convince myself he loves me like I love him. And I hate how easily I believe it.