16 Candles

"You Could Even Blow Me."

Sodapop gets a ride home from Steve after work. He's been more quiet than normal, trying to think and dodge the reoccurring question from his best friend. Why didn't he want to go out? What was he suppose to say? 'Steve, I'm a lil queer and I don't wanna hang around TwoBit right now cause we kind of screwed around some.' That'd do it.

The blonde boy sighs and closes his eyes as the wind blow through the rolled down window of the old truck. He peacefully listens to the Beatles on the radio. Maybe if he pushed his problems away, they wouldn't be true. He'd be perfectly normal.

"Hey, Soda?" Steve asks, turning down the radio.

Fucken Hell.

"Yeah?" Soda answers, lazily opening his eyes some.

"How come you don't-"

Oh dear fucken shit. The pretty boy let's out another sigh, mixed with a groan as he sits up and rubs his head.

"Steve, I just don't feel like it."

"...this about Sandy?" He asks, glancing between him and the road. Soda furrows his brows and starts shaking his head. He moves his hands up his face, to his hair and knocks off the DX hat into the seat.

"No, Steve. It's not about Sandy. I just don't wanna drink and fuck and go to Buck's and be around other drunk fuckers, okay?" He snaps, getting frustrated with this petty repetition. Steve rolls his eyes and pulls over, stopping at the curb.

"Sure, whatever, Sodapop." He replies and waits for his bud to climb out and walk around the truck. Steve pulls off, going back into the right lane.

The blonde feels too conflicted. Steve didn't even say goodbye. Besides, why did he have to be hung up on a girl for him not want to party? He was 19 now. He wasn't a wild teenager anymore. He barely was in the first place. The most rowdy thing he ever did was get arrested for disturbing the peace. It wasn't like he lived to drink and screw. That wasn't him. That was TwoBit Matthews and, a less successful, Steve Randall.

The man growls to himself as he rubs his head and enters his house. He looks up as he's taking his hat off and sees TwoBit on his couch, drinking a beer and watching the Andy Griffith Show. It was just the boy's day. The best damn day of all.

Soda tosses his hat to the couch. Darry had nagged him about leaving his stuff on the couch but today he just wanted to take part in his annoying habits.

"Hey there, Blondie." TwoBit greets, not looking up just yet. "Where's Steve?" He asks, now moving his eyes to the male.

"I don't know, why do I have to be with Steve all the time?" He asks, finding that aggravating.

"You don't have to. You just usually are."

"Well keep drinking, soon you be able to notice a damn thing." He spits, being harsh in comparison to his usual sweet self. He starts walking to the kitchen, in search of a glass and some milk. TwoBit furrows his brows and puts his beer on the coffee table. He follows the blonde, hurt by his previous statement.

"What's that suppose to mean?" He asks, calmly, not trying to pick a fight. However, no matter the tone, Sodapop treats it like he is.

"Why? You gonna fight me in my own damn house?" He asks as he reaches above his head and opens a cabinet.

"No...I just wanna know what you mean." He answers in a much shyer voice than what was known to be his. His gray eyes watch the other grab his glass and walk to the fridge. Soda puts his glass on the kitchen table in a rather aggressive manner. "Why are you so angry?"

"I'm not angry." Soda says, trying to believe it. It was hard to make what he said true when his nerves were shot. He twists off the cap to the milk jug and pours his glass 3/4ths the way full. He closes the milk and takes a sip from his glass. He chokes and spits it back into the glass. TwoBit backs up as he stares in confusion. Soda coughs up the milk and turns the jugs over, looking at the date. He growls.