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Did your eyes get wide and all excited?
You were like 15, discovered nitrous
Spending every night on empty beaches
With the same four kids you'd never sleep with
“Fuck, Marry, Kill - Me, Charlie, Dennis” Mac proclaims, breaking up the comfortable silence that had settled between the gang as they passed round a cigarette, pointing out stars and strangers walking past while they nursed the last beers left tonight. He was pointing with every word, as always, in an attempt to sound serious and put together, and maybe somewhat threatening, but it was lost on the friends, especially as these jerks started spilling beer.
“Fuck- hey watch it man!” Charlie started, squirming his way out of the mess of entangled limbs he Dennis and Mac had become, swatting at Mac who in turn started pretending to spill more and more beer on him.
“That's gross man, she's my sister.” Dennis was also untangling himself, in anticipation of Mac and Charlie wrestling, again, on the picnic blanket he had ever so graciously donated to their evenings drinking in the park. Mac and Charlie wrestling meant spilling drinks and squashing joints, and leaving Dennis’ ‘property’ pungent and putrid, making him shout, scream, and passive aggressively mope about, scared shitless that his dad would yell at him, making fun of who he was and his friends - Even Though, he would grumble later on, they were Sweet Dee’s friends too. But Dee had seen the blanket on Dennis’ bed, rather than in the car trunk or hidden in his wardrobe like he would claim, more times than not, and knew deep down that their father didn’t actually care enough about Dennis to do any of that. Instead, Dennis’ tantrums were always more of a projection of his own insecurities.
Sometimes the depth in which these four kids knew each other felt like a curse, it was hard for any of them to maintain proper relationships outside these walls, and god knows none of their parents thought about them more than once a day. Sometimes Pete and Schmitty would join them out here, but it wasn’t really the same. Dooley never came. The silence was always uncomfortable and Dennis would start being mean, ‘Psycho Pete’ never really seemed all that tuned into what was going on, and Schmitty would always try and make fun of them, in a different way the four poked each other, a way that actually hurt. He would draw attention to and make fun of small things, like Mac pretending to be a badass; things ignored and allowed by the rest of them because it made life easier, and meant your own delusions would be accepted too.
But sitting, drinking in the park, just the four of them, always threw Dee back to feeling fifteen again, discovering nitrous in Charlie’s basement, watching her brother look like a person again. The intensity of the bond, clear skies and not so clear drinks made it feel like she could almost see him again, crawling out of self imposed cages, like a mangled cat stuck under the floorboards. Four years had felt like a lifetime.
For so long, the only person Dee ‘had’ was her brother, in such a lonely, miserable childhood, and as much as she loved him, having other people to love and look after Dennis was a massive weight off her shoulders. Unfortunately, this resulted in finding more time to hate herself, and perfecting an imitation of her mother’s grating voice in front of the mirror. But at least she had hobbies. Looking after her baby brother was the closest she could get to looking after herself, and Dennis seemed too lost to be able to return the favour any time soon. But it was alright, that was life. Being 14 year old restless rich brats, itching for rebellion and a taste of ‘life’, meeting Mac and Charlie felt like opening the gates to heaven, or maybe walking into hell - but more realistically it was meeting their hometown drug scene. It was a curse and a blessing to be known and know someone that intensely, but tonight it was nice, Dee watched the boys relax into each other, as she had relaxed into the majority of tonight's beer bottles, thinking about the future, the past, and everything in between, singing bittersweet symphonies louder than that voice in her head could manage.
“Kill Dennis, obviously.” Dee responding seemed to break up the impending fights, as Mac gave some sort of boastful look to Dennis, who just replied with confusion as to what exactly he was trying to boast about, gently knocking Mac’s head with his bottle, as if to knock some sense into him. Dee looked across at her boys, Mac rubbing his head, and moving to sit propped up against Dennis, who chuckled and took another swig, before uncrossing his legs, and at Charlie, who was now lying on his back, fiddling with the ends of their shoelaces. Just for a moment she wished this would last forever, that They could last forever, always together.
“..And kill Mac, and kill Charlie”. She laughed, as did Dennis, who had started poking Mac in retaliation. Some part of herself, with her mothers voice, had started to equate sex and love with ‘worth’, but she would never have to prove herself to these losers.
“Sweet Dee come on, I’d be doing you a favour! You don't want to be a virgin forever right?”
“Ugh Mac! You're so like fucking obsessed with all this like weird, gross sex stuff, it's all ‘dicks’ this, ‘vagina virgins’ that, just stooop”
“Shut Up Charlie !! I’m Not Gross, Sex isn't Gross, It's Awesome, okay Dee’s gross and I’m just Offering to help her out. I’d never actually bang her, that spine is fucking freaky!”
“I’m not a virgin anyways dipshit, so like, I don't know… Even if I was desperate-” “you are” “-I wouldn’t run to fucking clown baby Ronald McDonald.”
“Ooooh,” Mac started, raising his eyebrows tauntingly, ignoring Charlie laughing over his ‘hamburger clown’ name, and Dee shooting daggers at Dennis’ input. “Who's Sweet Dee getting that ‘Sweet D’ from?” He says, giving Charlie a little kick, who instantly starts groaning and complaining again, but Dennis laughs at Mac’s pun, the way only a teenager with a stupid crush could.
Dee pauses, slightly embarrassed “...Well Matty did eat horse shit, I felt bad. Like I owed him that much.”
“Matty Mara!?!?!?!” Dennis starts singing teasingly, while Mac chants “Rickety Cricket, Rickety Cricket-”
“Ew Dee, okay, now you Are gross. You banged a guy who just ate horse poop?? You had Horse Poop Sex? Fucking gross man, I don’t care.”
“It wasn’t Right after he ate it, okay.. I did- I, I waited a couple of days okay?? Plenty of time for his system to flush it out. And we didn't even kiss, so like, no shit for Deandra, end of question.” It was embarrassing, talking about sex with them. Dee could hear that horrible, shrill tone in their words, shooting daggers, and laughing at her, laughing at the idea of her being desirable or wanted or-
Before she could spiral properly, her mothers laugh was replaced by Charlies, by reality, as she remembered how she didn’t have to prove her worth as a person to these guys in the way she felt she owed the world. She could be upset and insecure later, alone in her room, crying silently while staring into a mirror. She let go of her tank top strap, that she had anxiously and absent mindedly started to fiddle with and took another swig of the beer in her hand, and watched the conversation move, feeling grounded as she noticed her sunglasses on the top of Dennis’ head.
“How can you have sex with no kissing?” Dennis wondered aloud, obviously looking for a chance to brag about all of his made up girls, “That's like the best bit.” Dee falls onto her back, lying alongside Charlie on the patchwork blanket that was actually hers. Her brother was still leaning back on his hands, half lying down, but propping himself higher than the rest of the gang; a move that people from school would've guessed was an effort in his big, grand ‘golden god’ scheme - being physically higher meant he was morally higher or whatever bullshit - but tonight it was just a way to watch the people he loved, to feel safe.
Sure, in hallways and classrooms Dennis would sing hymns celebrating himself, boasting how much better he was than everyone else, but he would always come and find them, the gang, as they hid under stairs and gossipped about whatever was going on that week. Dee knew that he loved her, that Dennis understood her sacrifices to look after him, that he appreciated it at least. She also knew he loved Mac and Charlie, adored them even, and that maybe, somewhere along the line, this ‘golden god’ persona was melded with a curiosity about Mac’s beloved faith.
“You can give blowies and handjobs without kissing” Mac replies, eyes wide and excited, unaware when Dee and Charlie share a knowing look, looking up at the stars and not noticing Charlie mouth ‘Mac Gives Blowjobs’, only hearing Dee laugh and thinking she was agreeing with him. “Anyways, who gives a shit about kissing, Den? I wanna know if Matty’s dick stil-” he gets elbowed by Dennis as a not-so-covert signal to stop talking. This only makes Dee and Charlie laugh louder, the drinks, the night and their shared history making everything seem so hopelessly hilarious forever. “Those stars look like a dick” Mac grumbles, fake angry, but he had already lied down with them, pointing at nowhere in particular and already somehow getting limbs everywhere.
“You think everything looks like a dick” Dennis chuckles softly, as he started moving around to join them on the ground, finally ending up resting his head on Dee’s stomach, arms outstretched picking at Charlie’s teeshirt, with legs obviously getting intertwined with Macs.
They were all laughing. At everything and nothing. It was good, it was nice even. It was a type of love limited to the four of them, where everything felt easy and shiny. It was bittersweet.
“Do you think it's after midnight yet?” Dee finally says, after the laughter had died down and they had started pointing out more crude constellations.
“Probably” Dennis replies solemnly, understanding the weight of the truth. But Mac and Charlie didn't care, bursting into rounds of ‘happy birthday’ that got the twins laughing again, allowing everyone to ignore the impending future. It was a Good Thing they were finally all adults. Dennis and Dee were days away from leaving for college, Mac and Charlie were.. gonna keep being ‘Mac and Charlie’. This was probably going to be their last evening together, ever. Bittersweet was definitely the right word.
So take me to the far side of the beach
Before it falls into the ocean
Before you notice I'm eroding
I know you don't wanna be lonely
I know you don't wanna be lonely
Dee was looking forward to college, agreeing with Dennis that this was what they needed to start being ‘real people’, to get away from their parents, and each other. Sure Mac and Charlie had made fun of them for being ‘big fancy college people’ but not even leaving the state, but it wasn’t like the pair had actually left Pennsylvania themselves, a fact Dee had pointed out while Dennis started defending Penn State, spouting facts and percentages that meant nothing to his audience. But she had heard the trio researching routes and timetables, and found a twisted sort of comfort in how codependent Dennis always was, that even if she was planning to isolate herself, Dennis wouldn’t be alone.
College was going to be a turning point, she had decided as a sophomore, recognising already that high school wasn’t going to get any better. In college the people were mature, and grown up, and weren’t goddamn Adriano, or that bitch from trig. And they would finally like her. If college went well, which obviously it would, she wouldn’t need Mac and Charlie to fill that emptiness void inside her soul, nor her brother. The day she got the acceptance letter from UPenn, when the four of them had gone to the river and Dennis smuggled a bottle of vodka to share between them in celebration, it hadn’t quite occurred to her that this was the beginning of the end, but there was something about the sun and substances they choked down and wild lies and fantasies about what the future held for their sorry little gang that created a comforting distraction. Images of all the kids from high school watching how successful she’d inevitably become and begging for help are always paired with thoughts of the future for Dee. It was something nice to get through the day. But she wasn't famous or successful yet. Tonight she was drinking in the park with some losers she loved, saying goodbye to her old life and waiting for the world to welcome her.
“The world just ain’t ready for us yet, yeah that's it” Charlie says seemingly out of nowhere, making Dee realise she had zoned out, the sound of boys light bickering becoming white noise as she already started reminiscing over everything and nothing. Looking to her left, she watched as Charlie punctuated his sentence pointing between himself and Mac, who was aggressively nodding in agreement, trying to come up with the same reasons and rationale why the pair weren’t going to college, and how it did not make them “less” than the twins. The world just wasn't ready for them yet.
She chewed on the motion, applying it to herself as she was often one to do; those dicks from highschool just weren't ready for her, all so immature and selfish, but they don't matter, they never mattered, highschool isn’t your whole life. She couldn't imagine peaking in high school, like her mother so clearly had, being stuck at age seventeen forever, thinking prom queen, homecoming court, football games and yearbook signatures equated your worth as a person. If that was true she never really got a chance to even be one, a person. So packing up and moving to college, to be her own person, alone without Dennis clinging to her like a life source, stuck forever as twins sharing a womb, without Mom pushing her down into the mud - that's the world and she's ready for it. And Goddammit the world would never even get the choice to not be ready for her. Dee fucking Reynolds. Destined for greatness, a name just waiting to be written in stars and lights. Blinding anyone who thought otherwise.
Content with this conclusion, she watched these boys she begrudgingly loved so much, not batting away those emotions just for one night of happiness, one night at the top of the world, almost laughing to herself how their eyes would get sort of distant and different, discussing everything and anything, and thinking ‘I would die for that kid’. Sweet Dee and her baby brother, with the junkyard strays they picked up on the way; Sweet Dee and her boys forever. Sweet Dee and her boys, tonight. Any other night it's so much fun to hate them, and she could name a thousand justifications why, the four of them thriving off vile hatred, but for an equal thousand reasons she didn't need to tonight. From moving in place to moving on.
Fuck. Moving on. Suddenly Dee didn’t know if she was ready, for something she spent her entire teenage years wishing and waiting for, if it was actually that easy to push away the doubts, and the hate, and the fear, and her mother’s voice. Actually, it didn't matter if it was actually past midnight, they hadn't slept so it didn't count as tomorrow yet. So Tomorrow she's turning eighteen, tonight in the here and now she is still seventeen, Dennis was still seventeen, and they could remain kids forever. It didn’t matter either that Mac and Charlie had already turned 18 months ago, because the future didn’t matter for them. They didn’t have to go to college, alone, they were never going to fucking leave South Philly, let alone eachother. Maybe moving in place was more comfortable than she had ever given it credit. One of the things she loved the most about this bubble was how the gang always forgave and allowed stupid little delusions, none of them could accurately paint a portrait, but what if this was just another impossible dream she had convinced herself was reality. Fuck!
Reaching the end of her own bottle, she snatched Charlie’s and downed it, ignoring the reaction it caused, right now was not a good time to have run out of booze. And Mac, promoting himself as the world's best (and only) drug dealer, couldn't even find a bit of weed to bring to their birthday celebration, to the fucking last time the gang would ever see eachother. She was not going to miss that low-class, rat-breathed, idiot. She was. Fuck. It was taking everything in her to kick and claw against the instinct to lay down and sink into the ground, into her blanket, becoming a shadow of herself, a child throwing a tantrum, clinging to any sense of comfort. Who was going to take the blanket? It was Her blanket, but Dennis had sort of taken a claim over it, or maybe it would be left here, a parting gift for Mac and Charlie, who would absolutely ruin it, at least Dennis kept it washed. It was patchwork. A gift from her grandmother. There were blue and pink ‘D’ squares in one corner, she guessed years ago meant to represent her and Dennis. Maybe she could add Mac and Charlie to it. Not sure how or where, the pattern would be messed up, and that's not the shape blankets usually are. She doesn't know what colour Mac and Charlie would be, to be honest she's not too sure what colour she and Dennis actually are. She wishes Mac had brought some weed, that she could get so high and feel her brain shrink, not having to think about this, not having to justify how her life isn’t just a massive time waste.
Dennis nudges her, and she winces seeing her own reflection in him, with a look asking if she was alright.
“Yeah, I just fucking wish Mac had brought some weed. What's the point of keeping him around without it?” she styled off as a joke, not enjoying the comfort of harsh jabs, but appreciating how much easier it was.
“I’m sure we could go find some”
“Birthday celebration and everything”
“Yeah, okay. Dee and Charlie grab everything okay, pack it all up, I don't want to leave my shit here. Who knows what junkies and drunks are gonna come and pass out in the park soon, right? Mac you’re in the front seat, we’ve gotta complete your training as a drug dog.” Mac looked at him blankly. “Sniff it out Goddamnit, find us some fucking drugs man” He wasn't actually mad. “You’re so lucky you're a pretty boy, Mac, without it you are just an annoying stupid piece of white trash. Can't rely on Charlie to carry you your whole life.”
“You love it” … “Woof”
Nice and easy. Comfort. That was the gang. The intimacy of their relationship scared her sometimes, but moving from the soft ground, hanging tight to the blanket, into the back of Dennis’ range rover, listening as the conversation moved on as it always did, Dee was able to recognise a comfort she had never felt outside of them. Physical touch, hands on her shoulders, without moving an inch. She couldn’t ever stop her mind from wandering the way it did, and didn’t know how to look at herself clearly in the mirror, but she recognised that part of herself in her boys. She could close her eyes, fighting away the thought that saw Dennis sinking with her, knowing that he was obviously keeping in contact with Mac and Charlie, he didn’t have to cut them off to start a real life. Begging to drown the voice telling her if her brother stayed then maybe she could too. But often when she went into the ring with these thoughts, wanting to beat them and keep them quiet, they always ended up louder and bolder and only Dee got bruised. Maybe starting over and being new didn't mean existing without her friends. Looking down at the blanket, their muddy shadows and smells imprinted into the fabric, Dee wanted to be swallowed by her emotions and thoughts, wishing to stay lying on patchwork forever, making their own patterns and prints. Just lean into the tide and let it take her.
Your eyes get wide and all excited
You were like 15, discovered nitrous
Spending every night on empty beaches
With the same four kids