Porcelain

Chapter 30

Estelle woke up on her bed, clothes nowhere in sight. Dally was beside her, with just as many, or as few, clothes as her.

Her head pounded, and her eyes burned from the bright light in the room.

There was nothing in her stomach but acid and alcohol, and her throat burned as the alcohol threatened to return. But that's what she got god drinking that much alcohol.

She rinsed her mouth out in the bathroom sink, before grabbing a nearby T-shirt and throwing it on. She slowly walked back to the bed, wrinkling her nose at the sweaty and overall gross sheets. But the alternative was to get up, so she crawled back into bed. That bit was at least cleaner than beds she'd slept in at parties.

Dally groaned as she got back into the bed. "Puke quieter."

"Can't. That's how drinkin' works."

"No it ain't. You're not- 'cause we didn't-"

She reached her arm out and smacked him, knowing it would hurt.

"You ain't that dumb, that's not how babies work. Besides, I haven't had a monthly in years. It'll be fine."

"Shut up, your annoying little voice is hurting my head."

"Good."

_____
Several hours later, once they were finally sober enough to be productive again, Estelle went out to tend to her puppy and the horses, while Dally did who knows what.

She came back inside the house to find a fried egg with toast along with a glass of chocolate milk waiting for her.

She smiled. It meant a lot to her that someone had taken the time to appreciate her, even with little gestures. Little things, that meant so much to her. Because all her life the little things we usually dubbed as unimportant.

She ate the food without feeling bad about doing it, because this time it was a gift to her, and she could find the energy within her to treat it as such.

She turned to look at the rest of the room and sighed. It was hard to look at the whiskey bottles on the floor, the various assorted food containers sitting out, and the clothes on the floor. She spend her childhood in the house, now it had officially ended too.

Dally was smoking a cigarette, staring into space.

"So what now?" She asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Whaddaya mean?"

"I mean, are we a couple now, or friends with benefits, or did nothing happen and we're just housemates?"

"I don't fucking know, what do you want me to say?"

"I want you to say what feels right. I'm asking 'cause obviously I don't fucking know either."

"Well, do you want to be my girl?"

"That sounded so forced. But I'll take the title with honor."

"Gee, sorry. What did you want me to say?"

"Oh, no, that was fine. Carry on."

Dally exhaled, blowing smoke in her direction. She responded by snatching the cigarette from his hand, taking a drag or two before passing it back.

"We're such a shitty couple already. Neither of us know how to properly date someone, and we've got enough problems for a whole state."

"I know. Don't worry about it, it's not your fault life kicked you in the ass before you could stand up."

"Look, I'm sorry about last night, I didn't mean to freak out."

"You-? I don't really remember that. But don't worry about it, the slammer fucked you up. You can't just pretend it never happened."

"Mm, I disagree. I can pretend it never happened, that doesn't mean my life will be perfect. Part of me never left, but most of me is here. With you. And it didn't fuck me up, it fucked me over."

"You do what's good for you."

She smiled. "People act like you're as dumb as soup, but you've got your moments."

"Yeah, and people say you're a man whore, and it turns out you're just a whore."

"Wow, you say that about your own girlfriend."

He smirked. "Damn right. You're mine."

She matched his smirk. "Just like you, are mine. You can't be greedy, Dally. You can't have both of us."

"But why not? It's what I do. I'm a fucking criminal."

"And I am too. It's only fair."

"Since when have either of us ever been fucking fair? Since when have our lives ever been fucking fair?" He said sarcastically.

"Never, but it keeps us from arguing to pretend it is."

_____
"Dally I want to do a bad thing, talk me out of it," Estelle said as she pulled a roast chicken out of the oven.

"Do it, I can't stop you," he scoffed.

"No, I, I want to go to Tulsa. To visit. And, to say goodbye to Johnny. For real this time."

"You said you were leaving for good."

"And I also said I moved on. I feel like there's still stuff I have to say."

"Yeah and what'll I do, stuck here while you're gone?"

"I was thinking you'd come with me?"

"Again?"

"It's your choice to make."

"Okay, say I did. What happens to your dog, and the horses?"

"Pay the neighbors to take care of the horses, take the dog with me. I've already thought about it."

"I don't wanna ride in a car with that thing."

"Then you can stay here? It's not that complex."

"Do whatever you want, I don't care," he groaned.

"Wrong answer, tell me it's a bad thing to do."

"Well, is it?"

"I mean, I've made worse choices?"

"Then do it dammit, and leave me alone."

_____
Dear Ponyboy,

I'm visiting Tulsa next week or so. I need closure. See you soon.

Love, Estelle