Maybe the Stranger Thing was the friends we made

The car ride was stuffy. I felt overheated for most of it and was zoning out too much. There was a sticky temporary tattoo on my cheek, and I didn’t dig it. Soda had pressed a wet sponge to my cheek that morning to put it on when I was brushing my teeth. I tried to pull away immediately, because the water was cold. I still looked like a blasted pansy.

It was June.

Almost close to the anniversary of when he died. It wasn’t a good memory of mine, every time I looked at the scars scattered on my arms from church flames licking at my skin, I remembered the brave smile that was on his lips. The same lips that had spoken his last words. The same last words that included my name. The same name he had laughed once upon a time. The same lips that had kissed me once or twice. Maybe more.

I tried not to remember it. It was a silly adolescent relationship, and it was frowned upon. I wasn’t too comfortable with actually liking guys and girls. At least– not yet. I would get used to it, Soda told me once. I think it was bisexuality, or whatever it was called. He was practically the walking definition of bisexuality. Guys and girls would stare at him, though I think Steve did the most staring. I still wasn’t too comfortable with the fact they were going steady. I didn’t like being kicked out of me and my brother’s bedroom because apparently sleeping in the same bed was beneficial for relationships. I slept on a cold hard church floor with Johnny Cade for a week, and that wasn’t beneficial for a relationship with my spine and legs. 

“Pony, honey, c’mon, we’re here,” Soda’s voice brought me out of my thoughts. The car had stopped after we spent a few minutes driving around for a parking spot in the old truck Darry drove. I wish I could ask which God that kept it running to keep me alive, because I felt as if I was running on fumes ninety percent of the time.

“Oh,” I stupidly muttered as I got out of the car. I had been pretty ignorant and stupid since Johnny died.

“Pepsi-Cola, get the sunscreen,” Darry said after my shoes touched the black pavement. Drawn on Converse with acrylic paint that was slowly peeling off.

Soda scoffed and quickly started frantically looking for the sunscreen bottle, whispering ‘where is it’ over and over again. I tilted my head and saw it in the backseat. It was fun to see him suffer and look, so I avoided paying attention to it and readjusted the brown and black bracelet I had on my wrist. It was Johnny’s eye colors, he had one with green and gray. I dug my eyes now, I used to wish they were more gray. 

Soda eventually popped back out from looking. “Can we just get a good tan? We don’t need sunscreen.”

“I don’t think skin cancer sounds very fun,” I said, monotone.

“You’re on the edge of lung cancer, you can’t be talking!” Soda yelled. I tried not to laugh, so I turned around and paced around for a bit as Darry went to the backseat and found the sunscreen bottle. Soda got tapped on the top of the head with the bottle and frowned sadly.

My converse scraped on the asphalt and I stopped pacing, only because the sound was annoying and it also felt weird, like an odd vibration. I soon got startled by a cold spray to my neck and partially to my hair, since it was long. It got on the collar of my shirt too, which sucked. It took us a few minutes and Soda a lot of protests before we started walking down the sidewalks. I nervously glanced around a few times for no reason. I felt paranoid, if that was a reasonable enough word. 

Mom and dad used to tell us before they passed to love ourselves no matter what and that they would love us no matter what. They had passed before me and Soda were really starting to notice guys, but they knew about Darry and his buddy, Paul. Paul was a Soc. I didn’t like him. I don’t think I ever liked him. He was nice when he came over for dinner, but he was nice in an awkward way, the way where he wouldn’t speak much. He was a good drawer, that was one of the things I liked about him. After our parents died, he disappeared. Stopped coming over. It wasn’t even a week after they had gone. Darry looked heartbroken a few times. I wondered if he wanted mom and dad to come back and hug him one last time, tell him that one relationship doesn’t change everything and ruin his life, but I was thirteen. I didn't know better.

The more I think about it, I don't think I looked at girls, except for Cherry Valance. I thought I had a crush on her, but no, I just wanted to be friends. We sort of are, but we can't talk around other people. It might ruin her reputation. Socs and their reputations, super annoying. I wonder if Darry impacted Paul's reputation by being around him, but they did football together and anyone was allowed for football, so maybe not. I wonder if Soda ever liked a Soc. I hoped he didn't, I don't think all three of us dating a rich person would've gone off well.

Soda pulling me to prevent me from walking across the crosswalk got me back to reality instead of being zoned out. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a gentle squeeze. “You okay?”

I nodded quietly. “Just thinkin’.”

“About?”

“Mom and dad's opinions.”

Soda quietly nodded and dropped his arm. I still leaned against him. I wondered if he dug Steve like I did Johnny. I don't think he does, probably more. I wondered if they were like Paul and Darry. Darry hasn't been with anyone since him. He said it's a waste of time.

There was this local organized thing. Not really local, more a long drive, but you know what I mean. It was for people like me and my brothers. I figured it would be a pretty small thing, and it was. It was like a craft fair, but… more queer. I hated that word, it sounded negative. I held onto my eldest brother's wrist to stick with him, even if it wasn't crowded, just there were a few people. Soda stopped us at one point, talking to someone he thought was pretty. I pulled him away after the conversation lasted a little too long.

Someone was hollering and preaching about going to God and His teachings on the sidewalk, off to the side. We'd seen a lot of people give us rude looks, some even spoke their thoughts. I felt tears well up a little, I faintly wished for mom to hug me and whisper to not listen to those people, I wanted her reassurance in all honesty. I think Darry wanted her reassurance that he was doing good.

After maybe fifteen minutes of waddling around, looking at stuff being sold, casual conversations being made, we passed by a stand.

Free mom hugs.

I stopped walking to stare at the sign, causing Darry and Soda to also stop, though Soda bumped into my back. I looked at one of the women under the tent, she reminded me of mom a little with her wavy auburn hair like mine.

Mom.

I'd kill for a hug from her.

Actually– I don't think I'd kill. I'd already convinced myself once I had killed that Soc, Bob Sheldon, I didn't need to do that again.

“Pony–” Soda mumbled. He noticed me staring. “Honey?”

The woman smiled kindly at me when she noticed I was looking. I hesitated before going over, not really knowing when I was wrapped into a hug, but I hugged her back.

It felt warm.

I felt… comfortable. Though, I also sort of wanted to cry, too. The last thing of affection I ever got from mom was a kiss on the head, a pat on the shoulder from dad. I miss them both.

I miss mom.

I miss dad.

I miss both of them, actually.

My eyelashes felt wet when I pulled away from the hug. I got another comforting smile before going back to my brothers, silently wiping my eyes as we started walking again. Darry noticed and we pulled off to the side after finding an empty spot without tents. Soda looked exhausted from stopping and going.

I didn't register my brother's arms around me until I started actually having tears leak out of my eyes. 

“‘M sorry, I don't mean to cry,” I whispered, “it just hurts.”

“It’s alright, Pone,” Darry muttered, “I get it.”

I nodded slowly and stayed in the hug until I stopped crying, which only took a couple of minutes. We got back to walking after Soda got mad at us for staying still for too long.