𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 , 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬

thirty.

DALLAS WINSTON

"dallas," the sound of my name has me stopping in my tracks before i can walk out. buck slides me a piece of mail across the bar countertop. "came early this morning for you."

i swipe it off the counter, inspect it.

"you speak to your sister?"

i lift my eyes to his and find a straight face looking back at me. my argument with madeline last night floats through my head, how i kicked her out of my place, told her since she doesn't seem to need me, that she should just leave.

"she left here with some guy." he tells me.

"sounds about right." i mutter, digging my thumb in between the the glued flaps of the envelope. after what my younger sister told me last night, i'm not surprised to hear who she left with.

"he was way older," buck continues. "seemed like he was givin' her a ride somewhere, but—"

"buck, i don't care." agitation lines my words. "i told her to leave, she did."

it's moments like this that make me think buck would've been a far better father to me, and madeline, than the real dad we were dealt. sometimes buck lets things roll off, others times he steps in—usually when he knows i'm making a really terrible decision and can't let himself sit around and watch and wait for the outcome.

the hard set of his jaw and look in his eyes right now tells me this is another time, another terrible decision i'm making that he just can't help but butt his way into.

"well you should. you should care."

"i've cared for years and she doesn't want it anymore."

"doesn't want what?" he asks.

"me! me hangin' around, carin' for her. the things i do to keep her safe, or—or to keep the shit guys i know away from her! but she goes and does it all anyway, everything i try to keep her from doing, 'cause i know she can't handle it, she does it anyway. so i don't care anymore."

"she's your sister." buck says, opening the closet door behind him, pulling out his keys and a coat. "sisters are always gonna annoy you, especially the younger ones 'cause you're always gonna want to protect them. but even though she'll always be younger than you, she's still growin' up. the older you both get, you gotta try carin' from a distance. she wants to do things on her own, let her, but don't get mad at her for it."

i clench my teeth together as i blow air out of my nose, ready to tell him to piss off, but then he raises his finger, "and you don't let her drive off with some man twice her age just because you two got into a fight."

i scoff, "what, so i'm supposed to care from a distance but only when it's convenient?"

"there's a difference between being overbearing and being smart. you wanna keep her safe, learn the difference, dallas." i watch him say as he stands in the doorframe, the cold morning air drifting inside until he pulls the door shut behind him.

the bar and my apartment upstairs fall silent, nothing but the hum of the pipes and radiators giving off heat. i tear open the letter that buck gave me, my eyes flicking over the handwritten words.

then i lean my back into the bar counter as i crumple the piece of paper in the tight fist of my right hand, and since no one is here to gawk or flinch, i kick the chair nearest to me, the whole thing toppling over and crashing to the floor.

•

it was only last week that i came back from windrixville, those assholes i got into shit with there following me on the next train to oklahoma. i had come right here, where i stand now, on darry's front steps, because madeline was inside and i needed to talk to her.