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Being called a “good kid” always felt like a punch in the gut, i hated it every time i heard the phrase. Thats all it was, just a phrase that most would take as a compliment; people like Johnny or even that kid that used to hang around Mark would have craved and thrived on, but ive always felt this heat in my gut because i know they never meant just a ‘good kid.’ It always came with an addition, a caveat they praised and degraded my place in Tulsas social ladder.
“Oh Ponyboy?” I would hear my teachers say while they gossipped during lunch hour, “Hes a good kid, even after the incident. Hes as good as those greaser kids can get, just like his older brother.”
It wasnt easy, being a good kid, it didnt exactly feel like it was the easy life that everyone made it out to be. I was always considered too good to be a greaser, so those folks barely talked to me. A lot of people thought i was conceded or standoffish, i heard that Marks brother Bryson hated my guts, i didnt really know why. Even if i was too good to be a grease, i was never going to be good enough to be a soc and they didnt like me after everything with Bob went down either. That usually left me alone, save for a few people.
I guess that's how I found myself in the passenger side seat of a hotwired Chevrolet car with Curly Shepard driving us out of town down the interstate in our stolen ticket to freedom. We snuck out of classes before lunch hour, and the beer curly found in the backseat left a bitter taste down my throat as I chugged the bottle. Ive only drank once before, and i didnt like it one bit; but this felt completely different to then. Darry cant catch me this time- he would hate that im doing this and probably ground me for a year if he caught me, but that made the whole thing better. Darry doesnt like it when i hang out with Curly, especially not after he learned of our game of chicken when he had to help me clean out the burn on my finger. I couldnt find it in myself to care about what Darry wanted right now, i finally felt free of all the expectations everyone had of me.
I had told Darry that i was planning to spend the weekend at a school friends house to work on a project and he didnt object, so he wouldnt expect me home at all. I know its bad to lie to him, hes doing his best to look after me and all but its still hard to have the expecations of being my families only hope for a college graduate. its hard to be the only one in my family whos going to make it out when i knew that it should have been Darry making it out of tulsa. It should be him learning about a full ride scholarship thanks to his athleticism, not me.
We turned onto the freeway, and it was nothing but open road and fields for miles. It was almost like being out in windrexville, every once in a while we'd see a small church in a town and id remember what it was like to feel free, a way i hadnt felt since me and Johnny ran into that church fire. (Dont remember. Dont remember how he only ran in there because of me. Dont remember that if i hadnt ran in, Dally would have talked Johnny out of going back home. Dont remember.)
I wasnt worried about being jumped. For once, i didnt feel worried at all. It was hard to feel worried when Curly was around, he had this carefree attitude that soaked into the air and was more influential to my state of mind than the alchohol would ever be. His attitude, and maybe the half bottle of beer now sitting in my gut, helped all my worries and fear slip away from my mind as the fresh air rushing past my head freed my every thought. As i took another sip of beer, ignoring the bitter taste it left along my tongue and down my throat, i wondered for a moment if this is how Dally felt every time he skipped town, i wondered if this freedom is what he wanted Johnny to feel before we ran into that church. (Dont think about how he had a friend willing to take us in. Dont think about how he was willing to give up everything for Johnny. Dont think about how every strong gust of wind made you think if a part of Dallys soul still held on to this world full of spite. Dont think.) I took another drink from the bottle and found it empty now.
Curly liked to speed when he drove, i liked that about him. He had the same inate desire for speed that i had when it came to running. We both liked to have the wind taking away all distractions, all emotions floating behind us as our focus was purely on speed and getting even faster. He didnt have his license yet, but i trusted him with this car more than i trusted Sodapop in our beat up old ford. Curly would look back at me every once in a while, he flashed me this smile that i would have recognized anywhere. He had the same cocky, carefree smile that Dally always had- and i was suddenly hit with how similar the two really where. Curly was here though, and Dally wasnt. Dally left me behind long time ago. I thought that Curly looked real tuff as he drove, then again he always looked tough. One hand was on the steering wheel, the other was holding a cigarette he was trying to light with the cars lighter; I ended up lighting it for him, taking a quick drag of the cigarette before handing it over.
“Where are we even going?”
I laughed a bit as I spoke, I guess the alchohol and the general sense of freedom made me less closed off. I never really liked the sound of my laugh though. Curly didnt seem to mind it. I liked that Curly didnt find my laugh annoying, and im sure its the alchohol talking but it made me feel pure in a way- to just laugh without the fear of judgment for how i sounded.
“We,” Curly said as he passed a car that was once Just a speck on the horizon, “Are going to a friend of mine. Tough as nails that one, got thrown into the reformatories more than me! He reminds me of old Dally, he doesnt have a stick up his ass though. Hes got a hold of a bunch of shit, but he paid off the cops do aint no one gonna bother us.”
That was the thing about Curly Shepard, he had friends all over the state from his time in reformatories. Ive heard stories about all the trouble he would get into with them. If Darry knew this is where i was, I'd probably be grounded for the rest of my life. Darry would hate Curlys friends just as much as he hated Curly and the idea of that made me happy. i wanted him to hate what i was doing, i wanted him to lose all the expectations he had of me and stop seeing me as his second chance. Maybe if i messed up enough hed treat me like he did Sodapop. Id bet hed be nicer to me if he gave up on me. I think id be ok with that, at least he wouldnt be yelling anymore.
The wind was loud and howling, it made me want to yell all my feelings outloud so no one would ever hear them. i once again found myself thinking of Dally- i wondered if this is how he felt ever time he skipped down in a train, protecting himself from the cold with the very same jacket i now wore myself. I began to wonder, did he scream as the trains drove him across the country? Did he yell out yhe feelings and memories of the person he used to be between each town? How many lives had he lived at just seventeen- how long had it been since he was the whole, entire Dallas Winston? (Stop thinking about him. Stop thinking of how the light from the train illuminated him like an angel as he died. Dont think about how he stood there and dont think about how if i had been faster i might have been able to save him or at the very least die with him. Stop thinking about how the train is still down from him derailing that freight train.)
I wondered what Sodapop would think if he saw me this way. If he caught me drinking in the passenger seat of a stolen car, hed probably be dissapointed. I wanted to talk about it some, but i knew better than to complain about my family issues. Compared to what other people had, my family was perfect. Sodapop probably wouldnt have told Darry about this, he wouldnt want to see us fighting. Sodapop would understand i just needed a few minutes of freedom, he wouldnt yell at me like Darry would, even if i know that Darry is doing his best-
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Curly Shepard laughing, it was loud and boisterous and itd take up an entire room. I liked his laugh, I thought it fit him really well. I looked over at him to see what he was looking at, and my ears went red as i realized he was laughing at me.
“The hell are you mumbling about over there baby Curtis? Your brothers an asshole thats why i brought you out here. You needed a break.”
He said that with that smile i mentioned earlier, it was infectious and always got me to smile along too. In this light, i thought he looked like Dally. Maybe not in all the features, and Curly wore his hair different than Dally liked too, but they both had that wild infectious smile that made my worries dissappear. Curlys eyes didn quite have the hatred in them that Dallys used to have, i wanted to remember that look forever. I never said that though, i figured itd be embarassing to talk about how much Curly reminded me of Dally.
I finally realized what he said after a minute, i didnt realize i had been mumbling. How much had he heard? Clearly enough to hear me complain about Darry. I was usually a pretty quiet person, so i figured the alchohol made me a bit more chatty than i would have preferred. I felt embarassed knowing that i was mumbling, i didnt like to make people listen to my issues if they didnt ask. Besides, most people didnt understand. Johnny always understood me- he used to help keep me grounded and would call me out if I was being too harsh. But Johnny was dead, and there wasnt anything i could do to fix that.
“Sorry, I didn’ realize i was mumblin.”
My words came out slurred, and i realized my accent was thicker than normal. Last time i drank, i barely remember it other than getting sick and having a huge headache so i never noticed these little details. I never really liked sounding so southern, people didnt take me seriously when i was younger with my accent so i had trained myself to not speak with it as much. People didnt like to believe a greaser with a thick southern accent like me could be so smart, and it really made me mad that they thought i couldnt be just as smart as the Socs just because my accent had been thicker.
“I dont mind. You hardly ever talk, surprised i got you to say anything at all.” Curly Liked to poke fun at the fact i kept my mouth shut real good, compaired to him i was as quiet as a mouse. “Besides, you dont talk crap about your family the way me and my siblings do. Its gotta weigh on you. The best part about being family is hating their guts one second but knowing theyll be there for you the second you need it, and youd do the same for them.”
Curly wasnt real educated, he skipped about every other class because school was just boring to him, but sometimes he could say some of the smartest things ive ever heard. It was always a surprise when exactly what i needed to hear came from his mouth. Curly started to speed up again, i think we where probably going about 90 miles an hour in the chevy, and i figured this was probably the top speed this car was gonna get. I lifted up the bottle to the sun and enjoyed the almost golden glow it had as the light passed through the alchohol, it made the drink seem warm and inviting.
I glanced up in the rearview and noticed a car speeding up to tail us, and I think Curly noticed it too cause he let out a string of curses that rivaled his brothers and he slowed the car down real fast. The siren sounded, and it suddenly hit me that it was a cop behind us. I wasnt a big fan of police, I thought they where brutes who used way more force than necessary but i knew this time, we definitely deserved to be pulled over.
“Unbuckle, were gonna switch places. Fuzz'll be nicer to you if youre driving. Maybe cry a bit, Angela says it works like a charm.” Curly told me what to do, and i just made it to the drivers seat and buckled before the cop made it to the door. It was nerve wracking, the only times ive really handled the cops before now was when i had to help identify mom and dads bodies, and when i had to do the same for Dally. (Dont think about the impact. Dont think about how for a split second he might have felt the pain. dont think about how freigh trains pack nearly 200 times the ammount of force required to snap a neck or break a spine. Dont think about how many people youve lost- dont think about the train in the distance. Dont think.)
I looked up at the cop and i hoped i didnt look too drunk. I hoped he wouldnt make us go home, if Darry found out about this he'd kill me. The cop looked between me and Curly before he spoke to me, and i was just glad he didnt seem to realize the alcohol in my system. I could feel my hands grow clammy and i would kill for a cigarette to take off the edge, but i didnt want to risk getting in even more trouble than we where already in.
“You boys have any idea how fast you where goin?” The cop looked at me right in the eyes as he asked that question, and I gulped a bit while shaking my head as i tried to think of something to say. I bet i looked as nervous as I felt, and it took all my effort to not slur my words as i spoke.
“No sir officer, i dont have a clue.” I lied. I had always been a good liar, i watched the gang lie as a kid and learned the different tells of when someone was lying so i made sure to not do any of those when i was lying. “My friend here, he was starting to feel sick and so i was just trying to get to a gas station, see we arnt supposed to be in this car my dad wants to fix it up and stuff, but i just couldnt help myself. I wanted to take a ride in it.”
I was surprised as the cop seemed to listen to me, i figured he would realize i had been drinking and pull me to the station right then and there. Darry would kill me if he ever learned i was lying to the cops, but i figured what he didnt know wouldnt hurt him, so i kept up the lie.
“I'll be more careful officer, i promise.”
The cop thought it over for a second, glancing between me and Curly who was doing his best to act nauseous and sick. He did a pretty good act for a guy whos so bad at lying. Th3 officer chuckled a little, shaking his head as he put his notebook away.
“Boys will be boys. Slow down a whole lot, im sure your dad would be more upset at you getting in a crash or getting hurt than your friend getting sick in the car.” I was surprised that my lie had worked, i figured the alchohol would have made it hard to believe me but he didnt seem to realize that i was already feeling the affects of the beer in my stomach.
“Sucker.” I said under my breath as the cop walked away to his car, smiling a bit as I looked over to Curly. He looked to be doing better now that the cop wasn't right in our faces, it occurred to me then that Curly probabky had plenty of bad experiences with cops, and the almost scared look he had was probably from experience. We waited for the cop to drive away before switching places again, i wasn't good at driving sober and i was smart enough to not even try driving drunk, and Curly started the car after we got buckled back into the chevy. The car started and started to move, we drove the speed limit for a while before Curly figured the coast was clear and then he sped up again. We where still about 20 minutes till we got to his friends, so we passed the time with idle chatter.
“Yknow, youre a freakishly good liar. If i wasnt in the car, hell id habe figured you where stone cold sober and telling the truth.” Curly said as he passed a car that he deemed going too slow for the freeway, even though they where probably going the speed limit.
I felt proud of myself hearing that, I didnt think I'd be that good of a liar especially not with the buzz in my gut from the alcohol, but hearing that made my face heat up a bit. Im not all that used to compliments, even though Soda will tell me im good at things all the time. He tells me hes proud and that my art looks nice, but its different when its your family. Johnny used to compliment me a lot too. (Dont think. Dont think about him. Dont think about how he would hate seeing you drink instead of be in school. Dont think about how dissapointed hed be in you right now. Dont think.) It was nice to be complimented though, real nice.
When we eventually reached the house Curly had been taking us too, i was already pretty buzzed. At least, i think i was the night starts to get a little fuzzy from here. I had already drank a whole bottle of beer, and it was starting to make my vision all weird. I could walk sort of fine, and i could still use my head, but everything just seemed funny. I wondered if this is how Two Bit was always laughing, everything is funnier this way. We where just about to open the door when Curly stopped and looked over at me, and it was this look i knew from all the shepard boys. I knew if my answer to his question pissed him off, i could expect to get the tar beat out of me. Dally used to have this same look, it could even make Darry back down from whatever argument they were having.
“You got any problem with gays, Curtis?”
“No?” I thought it was a strange question. Had i done something to make it seem like i really cared what anyone else was doing in their own time? “Why would i have an issue.” I finished my sentance, and i guess it was good enough confirmation for Curly because he smiled and opened the door. I guess Curly likes boys, but i didnt really care. My parents raised all of us to not care about stuff like that, and mom made sure the rest of the gang knew that she wouldnt put up with hatred for anything stupid like that. Her and dad where always real accepting, i think its why our crew is so much tighter than the Shepards.
“Good. Get in here, you look like youre gonna fall over just standing up. This your first time drinkin?”
I laughed a bit when Curly asked if it was my first time drinking. I remembered that he had been in the reformatory when i first drank, and the story was funny.
“Only once,” I started as i was lead into the building. The first room wasnt too dirty, though i thought it smelled weird. “Stole some of Two Bits beer and got absolutely wasted. Darry grounded me for two weeks!” I walked with Curly through the house despite the smoke filling up each room. I saw people smoking, drinking, and some seemed to be smoking from a strange glass… thing. I had no idea what it was, but everyone looked calm and happy despite the music blasting through all the speakers in every room. The lights where bright and soaked everything in this sickly white light, it was even worse than the hospital.
He looked at me with that smile that always reminded me of Dallys, it was reckless and free just like the both of them, and i couldnt help but smile back at him. He started to introduce me to his friends and handed me another bottle of beer from a cooler. This one tasted better than the bottle that had been left in the chevy, but it still wasnt all that good and it burned my throat as i swallowed the amber colored liquor. Curly stuck close by me, i think he was worried that some of his othet friends would try to mess with me since i was already pretty tipsy.
The hours flew by, it felt like every time i blinked it had been 30 minutes. I felt free for the first time since i left windrexville. I felt pure, unburdened by the weight of my families expectations and hopes. I found myself talking more and more, i guess when i wasnt worried about keeping my mouth shut or saying something wrong i was a real chatterbox like Sodapop. (Dont think about how dissapointed hed be in you. Dont think about how hed probably cry if he ever found out. Dont think.) I drank more and more, the golden ichor falling down my throat and numbing all my fears and anxieties.
I saw some people all in a circle playing a game, it looked like fun though. I had never played the game before, big surprise i dont tend to get invited to parties very much, s9me girl explained the rules to me- everyone would sit in a circle and spin the bottle, having to kiss whoever it points too when the bottle stops. Me and Curly sat down on opposite sides of the circle, he wanted to take a few hits from a weird looking cigarette that another guy had. The smoke luckily didnt stay super close to the circle, the high ceilings giving a brief saving grace of keeping the smoke trapped up there.
I didnt get the whole deal about the game, it was fun sure but i didnt really care about getting a chance to kiss random girls i hardly knew. I still didnt get the big deal about girls or anything even though Sodapop said I'd grow out of it eventually. I didnt really get the big deal about it. I did learn why Curly had asked me the question on if i was ok with gay people though, as i saw more than one pair of couples that where the same gender. I learned later that it was jealousy boiling in my gut, but for now i didnt really know what i was feeling. I paid attention to Curly, as he was starting to get more and more liquor and his eyes got all red.
“Have you never smoked a joint, Ponyboy?” One of Curlys friends had asked. I shook my head some, i had only smoked regular cigarettes in the past and this was just my second time drinking! She giggled at me and handed me one of the weird cigarettes. “Its Marijuana, Makes you feel all relaxed and giggly.” I learned later that she brought the weed and that the weird glass thing in the other room had been a bong. I put the joint beside me on a napkin, I figured I'd try it out later if anything. i didnt know that weed could get me locked up for real, i just wasnt using my head when i accepted the joint to smoke later. Curly spun the bottle, and we all watched as it spun round and around, eventually slowing down and stopping- the neck of the bottle pointed right at me.
I didnt know what to expect, i had never kissed a guy before and wasnt sure if it was the same as when the girls came over and kissed me when their bottle spin landed on me. Curly flashed me that smile again as he walked over to my end of the circle, he wasnt worried one bit and it put all my worries aside to know that. I could never win against that smile, never in my right mind could i turn down that smile. He took another long drag of his joint before he leaned down to kiss me, blowing some of the smoke in his mouth into mine. This was different than anything else i had experienced in the past, it was that same freedom and feeling of rightness i felt in that cold dreary church in windrexville. While our lips were connected, everything felt right. I hadnt noticed it then, the fact that Curly had used this distraction as a chance to grab the joint i had set down and take it away, my guess is that he didnt want me to push myself to far out of my normal during the party. I knew my face was red when he pulled away, and the same girl who gave me the joint told us to get a room.
The rest if the night was a blur, the whole weekend seemed to fly past quicker than i could have ever wanted them too. The days and nights where filled with liquor, Curly made sure i didnt have any of that weed, and while i dont remember much i know that Curly stayed by my side almost the entire time. The hangover As we drove back towards tulsa wasnt fun, but i knew it wasnt anything a couple of asprins couldnt fix. There whwre times i wanted to talk to Curly about the parties, about the times my face grew hot when i caught him looking at me a few moments too long, but i let those thoughts fly with the wind. We where just two drunk teenagers, we wherent in love or anything. It was just for party games, it was the alchohol. For the second time in my life, i managed to lie to myself. It didnt mean anything, just bottled love that ran out with the beer and was ready to be thrown out with the can or bottle.
I started to drink with Curly more after that night