Chapter Text
”and if i’m dead to you, why are you at the wake? cursing my name, wishing i stayed, look at how my tears ricochet.”
— my tears ricochet; taylor swift
★
I’d woken up in the middle of the night, sweating and all like a madman. I was shivering a whole lot too, which made sense seeing how it was winter and it was always so goddamn cold in here—at least, most of the time. The sound of Stradlater’s snoring annoyed the hell out of me; it really did. He was the type of guy that moved around a ton in his sleep, snoring away as if the world we know and love (not really though), wouldn’t be here the next day, and as if he just had to let it all out now because he wouldn’t be able to tomorrow. Goddamn the sonnuvabitch.
The snores weren’t insanely loud or anything; they just annoyed me. I had a nightmare about something—something that I couldn’t remember all too well, but it was enough to have awoken me with a jolt. And to top it all off, the first thing that I was hearing at who knows what time in the morning was Stradlater’s stupid snoring, and that wasn’t exactly pleasant for me at this particular moment. So you can see why it was all just making me feel so lousy.
Anyhow, I decided that I could use some fresh air and that I’d just walk around the campus for a little, because why the hell not? It was a Saturday too, so there wouldn’t be any classes later today or tomorrow. All I was wearing at the moment was a gray t-shirt and a pair of boxers, so I got out of bed and quietly made my way to the closet that old Stradlater and I shared. Quietly, because believe it or not, the guy was a light sleeper, despite his sleeping form and all. For all I know, he could wake up to the sound of a pin drop, and god knows that the last thing I needed right now was Stradlater awake, trying to talk to me and all that crap.
I threw on some pants that I hadn’t worn in a while, along with a dark brown coat and a scarf that I quickly wrapped around my neck. I was just about ready until I decided on wearing my red hunting hat, the one that I’d gotten in New York City for the simple price of one dollar. I feel like it makes me stand out from the rest—the rest of all those people who consider themselves to be oh so charming and all. The ones that pretend to be modest when they’re clearly not. Just your typical phonies. I made my way over to the door until I realized that I hadn’t put on any shoes.
I was always forgetting the simplest things, and that really made my parents, especially my dad, rather upset. I trotted over to my bedside, where a pair of simple boots lay. I sat down on my bed and pulled them on, not even feeling bothered in the slightest to tie them. It wasn’t like I’d be outside that long anyway, just for a little while.
Stradlater was still sleeping by the time I’d made it to the door again, so I left without a second thought and closed it behind me. You could see how dark it was outside through the windows, so I assumed that it couldn't have been any later than four o’clock in the morning. Some of the students at great ol’ Pencey Prep had gone home for the weekend, and the ones that remained were fast asleep right now, so the halls were completely empty and silent. The only noise I heard was the sound of my dirt-colored boots hitting the floor as I made my way outside.
There was this fountain on the school grounds that I liked to visit quite often. Of course, there were many other fountains surrounding the place, seeing as this was Pencey we were talking about. Fountains are nice to look at, and your eyes could look at one for so long without getting bored. It was almost to the point where they might’ve just fallen out of your goddamn eye sockets. So naturally, a place that advertises itself as the motherland of 'shaping boys into young men of character’, (according to their overdone pamphlets), would be filled with things like fountains and all that kind of crap.
But despite how phony the whole thing was, this fountain in particular was the one that always had the fewest people nearby. I don’t know why that is, but I could really give less of a damn. I decided to head there for a smoke, sitting down on one of the benches nearby. The fountains weren’t running as of now due to it being winter and the low temperatures and all, so there wasn’t much to really look at, besides maybe the snow.
It had snowed just a few days ago, and we had gotten a lot of it up in Pennsylvania. That was quite common for the upper section of the east coast. Anyway, it had snowed so much that we’d gotten up to almost a foot of it here. Classes were canceled because of this, leaving us with two snow days.
The snow was mostly melted now, with only a couple of inches of the white layering that remained. It was sort of pretty to look at, I guess. I couldn’t handle just sitting there and doing nothing, though, as I always had to be moving around or at least doing a little bit of something. Otherwise, I’d go nuts, as in, ‘wow, he’s insanely off his rocker’ kind of nuts. So I reached into my left coat pocket, pulling out a small pack of cigarettes.
I opened up the small box and pulled out a cancer stick, and I then pulled out my lighter to get the smoke going, because how the hell are you supposed to have a cigarette otherwise? Shortly after, I’d put the pack and the lighter back into my pocket, tucking it up nicely before I started to smoke.
Smoking was one way of getting lost in this surreal haze and avoiding all of my problems. It also warmed me up a little in this godforsaken weather.
But my mind drifted back to the nightmare I’d had earlier, and suddenly it hit me—it had to do with Allie. Now, I can’t remember exactly what it was about, but I know for certain that he was in it. I slowly removed the cigarette from my lips, taking in a shaky breath before looking up at the night sky.
Allie and I loved looking at the stars. It was our thing. Our thing, something that we always did together.
—
"Holden, what constellation do you think that one is?” Allie had asked, pointing up at a neatly arranged set of stars.
We were lying down on the grass, and it was awfully late then. Allie and I had just finished our family dinner an hour or so ago, and right now we were supposed to be in bed. I didn’t care, though. And neither did he.
Our parents would have about two hemorrhages a piece if they knew we were both outside like this, past our bedtime, and unsupervised. I was sort of the one supervising Allie, though. Not like he needed it anyhow. He was a smart kid; he really was. Even smarter than me.
I shrugged, then tilted my head a little bit to get a closer look at what he had been pointing at. "I dunno. Maybe it’s the Big Dipper?”
Allie frowned a little. "You said that about the other three constellations, too.”
"Did I?" I questioned, a mockingly tone throughout.
Allie had just rolled his eyes before smiling a bit, turning his attention back to the illuminated glow that the stars had to offer. It was summer, so it was pretty warm out. But not so warm that we were uncomfortable, or that we’d have to give up our usual routine of sneaking out to watch the night sky.
I had always preferred night to the daytime because everything was so much better during the night. Instead of watching the clouds pass by, I got to watch and enjoy the stars. Allie loved it, and so did I.
After a while of silence, I spoke up again. "Y’know the stars you’d just asked me about a few minutes ago? The constellation, I mean.”
He nodded, not really drifting his eyes away from the sky.
"I think it was Scorpio. The way the stars are aligned and all, it just looks like it could be Scorpio.”
Allie didn’t respond. Instead, he just observed the stars closer and realized that I might’ve had a point. It looked an awful lot like Scorpio. Well, at least from what he’s seen in those picture books at the library, it did. "Hey, you might be right about that.” He had said, a smile spreading across his face.
"You really think so?
"Yeah. Scorpio’s real neat, if you ask me."
I had hummed in response, turning my head to look at Allie before watching the stars once more. We had such a strong bond that the two of us could just lay like this in comfortable silence, and it wouldn’t be a problem. I loved that Allie and I had that, and quite honestly, I thought of him as my best friend.
None of the people at school understood me the way Allie did; they just didn’t. I could talk to him about all sorts of stuff, and he would easily understand what I meant. Phoebe would as well, and maybe even Jane Gallagher, but that’s just about it.
We were quiet again, simply watching the stars in the sky, our shoulders touching one another’s. Suddenly, a recurring question of mine popped up into my mind.
It was something that I always thought about, and I wanted to know what Allie would think.
"Hey, Allie?" He didn’t respond, but I ended up asking him anyhow. “Hey, uh.. where do you think the ducks in Central Park go? In the winter, I mean. When the lake freezes over, an’ all.”
When I didn’t get a response again, I turned to look at him, and he appeared to be sleeping. It was nighttime after all, and I was quite tired myself.
I decided to lay there some more before bringing him inside the house a few minutes later. He was kind of hard to carry since he was getting bigger and bigger as more time passed.
At the time, I thought I wouldn’t be able to carry him like this in a few more years.
And in a way, I guess I was right for once.
I had brought him to the room that he and Phoebe shared, laying him down on his twin-sized bed. I planted a quick kiss on the top of his forehead before whispering a ‘goodnight.’ I never felt uncomfortable when I let myself to be a little vulnerable around him.
After that, I went back to my own room and flopped down lazily onto my bed, blinking my eyes a few times before I started to drift off, just like Allie had.
"Well, I guess I’ll just have to ask him the stupid question again some other time..”
—
I was brought back to reality when I felt a pair of hands gripping my shoulders from behind, and boy, you really should’ve seen me. I could’ve sworn I was about to start screaming bloody murder and that I would’ve even jumped out of my own flesh and skin at just the touch. And I did jump, in fact, almost dropping my cigarette onto the snowy ground.
Then I felt the hands move away from my shoulders, right before the person had broken out into a howling laughter. I knew that goddamn laugh better than any other laugh that I’d ever heard, and you wouldn’t even believe who it was. I turned around quickly, seeing none other than Ward Stradlater, my moron of a roommate.
He then sat down beside me, his laughter still as loud as ever. And what really annoyed the hell out of me was how he very casually threw a hand around my shoulders, as if he hadn’t just scared me to death. I could’ve killed him; I really could’ve.
"Gee, Caulfield. You should really see the look on that face of yours,” He was speaking in small bits between his laughter, as if he were having the hardest time controlling himself.
The bastard. The goddamn bastard. Stradlater was just so damn smug like that, and everyone was fine with it. I wasn’t, though. I was about to start having a fit for chrissakes.
I removed his hand from me, shuffling a little to my left so we weren’t all that close.
"What the hell are you doing out here anyway, huh?” I put the cigarette between my lips again, my hand sort of shaking as I did so.
He was quiet after that, and I honestly thought that he’d just get up and head back to our room. And sure, I would’ve liked that a lot. You bet your ass I would’ve. But I also deserved an answer from him before he did so. Not that I’d ever admit it, but the guy had really given me a real scare.
Stradlater moved to his left as well, the previous gap between us no longer existent. Why the hell was he getting so close again? It was awfully flitty, if you ask me. “Well, Holden, I’m a light sleeper, if you didn’t already know.”
I deadpanned. "For chrissakes, Stradlater! The whole goddamn floor knows that you’re a light sleeper; it’s no secret. I asked why you’re out– here.” I gestured around the place with my free hand, then let out an annoyed sigh. The moron was always making people impatient like this.
He never got straight to the point, and he loved dragging out things more than he needed to. Which was interesting, seeing how he wasn’t that way when it came to giving any girl he’d laid eyes on the time. It killed me, it really did.
"Alright, alright. Calm down, wouldjya?"
He put his hands up as he said this, as if to surrender or something, trying to be the wise guy as usual. And although I wasn’t directly looking at him anymore, I could feel the guy watching me. His blue, piercing eyes were just looking at me as I smoked. It made me uncomfortable, if anything.
Stradlater could tell that I wasn’t all that amused by his little antics, so he went on with talking. "As I was saying, I’m a light sleeper, so I woke up to the sound of your movement and saw you putting on your shoes in the dark. I then realized that it was pretty darn late out, and I didn’t understand why the hell you’d be getting all dressed up to go outside like that. So I decided to just come and.. well, I wanted to see if you were alright, is all."
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to hear from him, or what kind of explanation I thought I’d receive, but it wasn’t that. My idiot of a roommate, Stradlater, Ward Stradlater, had come outside to make sure I was alright. The same guy who was always so full of himself, who was crumby with his overall hygiene habits but still looked yearbook handsome, and was unrealistically perfect in the eyes of most, had come to check on me.
Me, of all people. He was worried about me. I couldn’t believe that crap. It must’ve been a lie or something.
I scoffed, because the more and more I thought about it, it just seemed too unreal.
“Well, I’m fine, Stradlater. Just go back to bed, alright? Or go and bother Ackley, I don’t care.”
I was still feeling uneasy about everything. About my dream, or nightmare—whatever it was. About my memories with Allie too, and the way that Stradlater had just come up behind me and given me one hell of a scare.
I threw the cigarette butt onto the ground once I had finished smoking and avoided looking over at him. My hands were still shaking, oddly enough. You really should’ve seen me right then. I was shaking so much like a madman, and I didn’t know why. It wasn’t even that cold, so what the hell was the matter with me?
I hated the fact that there was silence now. And it wasn’t the comfortable kind of silence that Allie and I used to have. No, it was the uncomfortable kind of silence that everyone hated, no matter who you were.
Nobody liked the feeling of this.
And boy did I hate feeling Stradlater’s eyes on me even more—more than I could ever hate Pencey Prep. I thought some more about Allie, about me failing all of my darn classes (except for English), and even about the ducks for chrissakes; ducks that were in the city, not here.
"Holden—"
I tuned out his voice, shaking my head and not giving a damn about whatever it was he had to say right now. I could’ve sworn that I was about to start crying or something; I really could’ve. The same way that those Hollywood actresses would cry in some cheesy, romantic film. They'd lay their heads on the shoulder of some guy, whom we, as the audience, were supposed to love for some reason.
Jesus, I really was shaking like a lunatic, and I was definitely on the verge of tears. Yet here I was, thinking about romance movies and the phoniness of it all. All while I was with Stradlater, of all people.
I don’t know how it happened, but one moment I was looking at my boots, hands clasped together and all. And in the next, Stradlater had his arms around me, and my face was buried in his neck.
I was crying. Crying a whole goddamn river. And I still didn’t even understand what was the matter with me.
To make things a lot worse, he was using one of his hands to rub circles on my back. In an attempt to comfort me, I guess. The worst part of it all was that I liked it, and that I found it soothing. God, get a grip of yourself, Holden.
I still couldn’t believe that I was crying in front of Stradlater, let alone crying into him. I didn’t even care that much, though, because I was way too busy feeling lousy to care enough about something like that.
So of course I just kept crying onto him, and I soon started rambling on about Allie, and how shitty life’s been as of recently, and how I really needed another cigarette right about now. Most of my words came out muffled, but I think he understood me well enough. At least, I hope he did.
When I’d gotten the self-control to do so, I slowly removed my face from his neck and hesitantly laid my head against his shoulder. Just a couple of minutes ago, I wanted to be as far away from Stradlater as possible. And now, I wanted to be the closest thing to him.
Jesus, that was corny, but don’t get any funny ideas or anything, alright? I’m not a flit for wanting to feel a little less depressed. And oddly enough, Stradlater of all people was giving me some decent comforting. I was still in complete disbelief about it though.
He ended up speaking first, probably wanting to end the silence because it’s Stradlater, and he’s always such a standup guy. It made sense why all the parents, girls, and even the guys adored him—admired him, really. “Holden.. I’m sorry about your brother. I didn’t even know because you– well, you never told me.” You could tell that the bastard was awfully sorry about it too, which was rare for him.
I hadn’t even realized that I’d let that slip out, about Allie’s death and all. I’d never really told anyone about it besides Jane, perhaps, and I was going to tell Sally eventually, but I didn’t really see the point. You’re not supposed to just go around preaching about your dead brother; you just don’t.
"It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s dead now, and he isn’t coming back." My voice croaked as I spoke, and my throat was still feeling worn out from all the crying.
It felt wrong to say those words, but it was the truth. Allie was dead, and I knew that. He had died almost four years ago. Four years of waking up every morning, knowing that I didn’t have a younger brother anymore. And it wasn’t like I was completely over it, because you can’t just get over a family member’s death like that, no matter what. But it didn’t hurt me as much as it used to.
I seriously have no clue as to why I started crying and shaking as if I were on some kind of substance. I was more upset with the fact that I’d done it in front of someone else.
Stradlater sighed quietly. "I know that, but I also know that you could still be hurting, and that’s alright, you know.” He said, then placing a gentle hand on my lower arm.
God, everything he was saying sounded like he’d read it off of the back of some ‘Get Better!’ newspaper, (which I wouldn’t be surprised if those existed,) with an exact list of steps on how to cheer up your depressed roommate. That kind of stuff seemed to be just right up his alley, so if he admitted to doing so the following day, I wouldn’t even blink in response.
"Yeah, yeah, I guess," I mumbled.
We sat there for a while without saying a word to one another. My head was still on his shoulder, and his hand was still resting on my arm. It didn’t seem like he’d be moving it anytime soon, but I didn’t even give a damn. Flitty or not, I was just fine with it.
I’d occasionally glance up to look at the stars in the sky, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Allie was up there right now. I’m not one of those religious people, not at all, but ever since Allie passed away, I found myself thinking about the afterlife more and more. Who the hell was in charge of heaven? Well, if there even was a heaven. All I knew was that Allie was most definitely in a better place; he just had to be.
"Hey, Stradlater?"
There was more silence before he responded to me, but only for a short amount of time.
"Yeah, Caulfield?"
I shuffled a little to get more comfortable, because god was my neck killing me like this. But again, I didn’t mind it all that much. "I still don’t know how the hell you saw me leaving when you were draped over that bed of yours and appeared to be sleeping before I left. Or why you even bothered coming out here, looking for me, being concerned, and all.” He was about to interrupt me, trying to cut me short, but I simply kept going.
"And for chrissakes, Stradlater—you're always so goddamn full of yourself that I don’t even get why you came looking for me! I mean, me, of all people.”
I didn’t hate the guy; I really didn’t, but we fought over the stupidest stuff rather often, and I just didn’t expect this from him. Maybe he wasn’t so heartless or selfish, or more concerned with his reputation than others. He also didn’t deserve my yelling and my sudden snapping, but I just couldn’t help it sometimes.
I sighed, now wanting to get as far away as possible from this place, just like I’d previously felt. I was making a fool of myself, and for what? "Well, what I mean is, I guess I’m saying thank you. You didn’t have to do this; you really didn’t, and I just don’t get why the hell—“
Suddenly, he placed a finger of his over my lips, seemingly in some sort of attempt to shut me up. I guess it was his turn to interrupt me now. "Holden, I didn’t come out here looking for you in the freezing cold for nothing. I was worried about you, and I already told you that. I could care less if you get it or not, or however you think of me. And you don’t have to thank me, either.” He had said that last part so quietly that I’d almost missed it entirely.
Stradlater got up from the bench, and he was obviously about to leave. I understood why, I really did; I was being a pain in the ass to him. I hadn’t just accepted his help and left it at that, but instead, I had to make it into a whole goddamn thing. There’s something wrong with me, and I can swear on that, too. I knew that, and everybody knew that.
But what I didn’t know was that I’d grab his wrist, trying to get him to stay. It just happened on pure instinct. I didn’t even think I’d do such a thing. He stopped dead in his tracks, turning back to look at me with impeccable speed.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, now feeling embarrassed. Seriously, what was wrong with me? Slowly, I released him from my grip, tipping my hat slightly downward so that my face was a little covered.
"..Don’t just leave me like that, alright?”
From the corner of my eye, I could see that Stradlater looked surprised. Hell, I might’ve looked that way too, if the roles had been reversed.
"Just.. stay. I’m sorry, I really am.”
I stood up shortly after that, mostly in fear that he’d just start walking away again. But he didn’t. Instead, he looked at me for a while, with those all-so-gorgeous eyes that girls admired about him. I wasn’t admiring them or anything, but how the hell could you look into his eyes and not get lost in them?
"Alright. Okay. I’ll stay, alright, Holden? Let’s just head back to our room.” He finally said, beginning to walk away again.
I stood there for a moment, a bewildered expression on my face. I truly thought that he’d respond with anything but that.
I wasn’t complaining, though. In fact, I was more than grateful. Stradlater was a much nicer guy than I’d thought him to be. I never hated him or disliked the guy with a passion or anything. But he appealed to me a lot more now, and I realized that he wasn’t all that lousy. He was the complete opposite of that.
Stradlater turned around with a little spin, his eyes meeting mine again. He was a few feet away from me already, as I had just been standing there with that stupid face of mine, watching him as he walked. I could really be quite ridiculous sometimes.
"You coming or what, Caulfield?” He joked, an obvious smirk starting to form on his face.
It didn’t even annoy me as much as it normally would. But it also made me to realize that he was still the same old bastard that everyone knew and loved.
"What, miss me already?”
I caught up to him rather quickly, doing a little jog to do so. We walked side by side the entire time, making small talk along the way.
We even talked about the stars in the sky, where old Allie was probably resting up right now.
I glanced up, admiring the stars for a moment.
And the only thing I had on my mind was if Scorpio was up there right now.