TW: emetophobia, throwing up, etc. (I sure write about that a lot for someone with emetophobia)

Here's a conversation I had with my bestie (who has no idea about my stories) the other day that I found funny:

"I would love to read Darry's perspective of the story or stuff that happened before the book"
"Girl that's called fanfiction"
"I've never read fanfiction"
"Bestie I WRITE fanfiction"

No I will not be exposing myself by showing her my account but if she happens to find it…

April 1963

Darry: 18

Sodapop: 14

Ponyboy: 11

For many soon-to-be-graduating seniors at Will Rogers High, spring break meant a taste of the freedom that would soon be their reality. Lake days, parties, drinking, ignored curfews, and many regrettable decisions that would one day be reminisced about at their high school reunion. The spring break of Darry Curtis' senior year, though, was going to be spent in the backseat of a car with his two brothers. To say he was less than excited would be an understatement, spending eight hours cramped next to his brothers and then a week in the country with his family was not the spring break he had imagined, and it definitely wasn't the one his friends would be experiencing. Still, he knew he shouldn't be selfish. His dad had been saving money and time off for a long time so they could take this trip, calling it, "one last hurrah," before Darry graduated. Darry didn't know why it was a "last" hurrah though, it wasn't like he'd be moving out or anything. Regardless, he resolved to keep his disappointments quiet and feign excitement.

His plan went out the window, though, when he was woken up at 5:00 on a Sunday morning. Sundays were usually his day to sleep in, and his being hungover from the night before wasn't helping matters.

"C'mon Junior, up and at 'em!" his dad called out, way too cheerful for this time of morning.

Darry groaned before dramatically throwing off the covers and making his way to the car. He was glad his dad had made him help pack last night before he was allowed to go out, even if he had complained at the time. At least he was the oldest, thank God. Being the firstborn had plenty of downsides, but in the instance of a road trip, it meant he got the seat behind his mom. He wouldn't be stuck behind his dad like Sodapop, who would have less legroom, or in the middle like Ponyboy, who would have zero legroom. No, he would be behind his 5'4" mother, whose seat would be pushed up, giving him room to stretch his legs.

Darry threw the car door open, surprised to find both of his brothers in their correct seats. He guessed they knew that fighting him for his spot would be futile. Sodapop was physicallybouncing, the excitement of the trip giving him a surge of energy that most could never match, let alone at five in the morning. Ponyboy, on the other hand, was fast asleep, his head resting on Sodapop's moving shoulder. Darry didn't know how he could stand to sleep like that, but he figured his own shoulder would be used soon enough.

After settling into his seat, shoving Ponyboy as far as he could toward Soda, and positioning himself as far as he could toward the window, the Curtis family was peeling out of the driveway and on their way to the country. Darry leaned his head against the window, deciding to close his eyes and try to sleep. He was nearly there when suddenly—

"So what all are we gonna do when we get there?" blurted out Sodapop.

Soda was never all that good at gauging the volume of a room, instead opting to speak at whatever volume suited him. Darry's eyes snapped open, glaring at his brother.

"Well, there's the lake, fishing, hiking, campfires, that sort of deal. And hunting, of course," replied Darrel Curtis.

Talk of the trip had Soda bouncing again, causing Ponyboy's head to fall off his shoulder and leave his chin touching his chest. Darry cringed at the sight, wondering how his brother managed to sleep in such an uncomfortable position, before carefully maneuvering his brother's head onto his own shoulder. It was bound to happen eventually, might as well save Pony some neck pain.

Despite the loud conversations of Sodapop and Mr. Curtis; Darry, Ponyboy, and Mrs. Curtis managed to sleep for the first few hours of the trip. Soon enough they were stopping for gas, where the Curtis parents informed their sons they could get one snack each for the trip. The boys trudged into the gas station, practically dragging Sodapop away from the tuff Mustang he spotted in the parking lot. Darry opted for a bag of chips, something simple but filling enough. Sodapop, of course, decided to get a slushy that consisted of every single flavor mixed together. It looked cool for a few seconds before the slush settled and it all melted to one purplish-brown color. Ponyboy, who never really grew out of copying his brother, opted for a slushy as well. He chose a singular flavor, though, having not been impressed by the color of Sodapop's.

"You sure you wanna get that, Pony? It won't be easy on your stomach," Darry advised.

Ponyboy rolled his eyes. "I'll be fine, I haven't gotten car sick in years."

Darry remembered the days of their childhood when Ponyboy was always complaining about being sick in the car. They used to keep bags on hand just in case, but he supposed Ponyboy was right. It had been a few years since it last happened.

"Suit yourself, just don't go puking on me," Darry insisted.

Soon enough the boys were back in their respective seats and the family had hit the road once more. The sun had finally risen and sunlight filled the car. The radio was turned up and Darry was beginning to think this trip might not be half bad until Sodapop decided to flick a rubber band at him.

"Hey!" Darry ducked, flinging it back. "What was that for?"

Sodapop opted to respond by flicking another one at his brother. Darry had no idea where he was getting these, but he just kept flinging them back. Ponyboy sat unbothered in the middle, sipping his slurpy and reading a book.

Rubber bands continued to fly, though it quickly escalated to include pillows, blankets, and Ponyboy's book.

"Hey, what gives?" Ponyboy yelled.

His brothers ignored him and continued to duel it out until their father got involved.

"Darrel Shaynne and Sodapop Patrick don't make me turn this car around! You boys need to separate!" he shouted.

Darry rolled his eyes. "We can't separate more than we already are! And he's the one who started it—" Darry started, before Ponyboy interrupted him.

"Uhh Mom…"

Darry continued. "If he didn't bring the rubber bands just to fling them at me—"

"Dad…"

"Ponyboy can you be quiet for two seconds so I can talk!" Darry shouted, exasperated.

Ponyboy responded to his oldest's brothers brashness by grabbing his open bag of chips and puking into it.

The car was silent for a few beats before everyone sprang into action. Darry and Soda uttered the obligatory "ew" and "gross" that have to be said every time someone throws up. Margaret Curtis began to reach to the backseat and clean up the mess while comforting Ponyboy, and Darrel just did his best not to crash the car. Windows were rolled down to mitigate the smell, and Darry gave his youngest brother a knowing look. He didn't even have to say it, Ponyboy knew what he was ya so.

— — — — — — — — — —

The road trip had been mostly uneventful after that, or at least nobody else threw up. The trip itself had seemed dull by comparison to what his friends were doing at the time, but it was one of Darry's fondest memories looking back. He was glad his dad had opted for "one last hurrah," even if they didn't realize why it would be the last. They had always intended to do it again, but money was just too tight and there was always next year. Was.

Darry now found himself in the driver's seat of his truck, Ponyboy in the middle, Sodapop in the passenger seat. It had been three years since that trip, and the brothers were finally headed back out to the country. Though there was some bickering, complaints about the lack of legroom, and presumably better ways to spend a spring break, the brothers all knew why it was important they do this. There would come a day where they all had their own families and their own lives, too busy for a trip just the three of them. They would look back on these trips fondly, knowing they shaped their childhoods in ways they weren't able to see at the time. Who knows, this could be the last time they would ever get to do this.