With Sandy there, Soda got some inspiration to try to get up even though his stomach was still turning over and over and over; but he had to be tough.
He slowly rolled off the couch and on the floor, getting to his feet. Soda was hunched over and holding his abdomen but he was standing. He walked, still bent over almost half way, to the bathroom to take a hot shower.
He got in, forgetting to take his clothes off for the first five minutes. The miserable boy shed his clothes and threw them, sopping wet, onto the tile floor by the shower. He leaned his head back and let the water hit his face and stream all the way down his body. It actually helped. He stayed in the shower until he used up all the hot water and it started to get cold on him; then Sodapop wrapped up in his towel and went to his room. He sat there on the bed for a couple minutes just sitting in his towel thinking.
He sighed, "ugh I feel miserable" he groaned to himself, "just die, Sodapop, just die..." He closed his eyes as he laid back on the bed. Dying would feel so much better then being here feeling like this.
Sandy came in and found him asleep on the bed.
"Soda, baby" she said sitting next to him, running a finger through his still damp hair.
"Grrmmmmbaamm" he grumbled.
"What was that, babe?" She kissed his cheek.
Soda slowly opened his eyes and looked at her, blankly. Normally being this little clothed, and her being in his bedroom, he would have acted upon this differently, but instead he said,
"Gimmie some clothes, will ya?"
"What?" Sandy looked at him, eyebrows furrowed.
"clothes!!"
"Fine" she got up and went to his dresser, throwing a t-shirt and jeans at him, then turned around and started to walk out the bedroom door.
"Hey.."
Sandy stopped and Turned around. "Yeah?" She hoped he had changed his mind.
"You forgot my boxers"
"Oh my god you're impossible!" She wanted to get some loving from him, but nope! For once Sodapop Patrick Curtis, the most hormonal minded boy, wanted his boxers on.
