The Outsiders: Before My Time | Sodapop

Welcome to 1965

July 17, 2017

Less than a year later, I had full feeling in every part of my body again and I was completely healed. I acquired slight burns on my legs that eventually went away with a bit of scaring. Luckily, I didn't get any scaring on my forehead.

Lillian is of course still my best friend, and I still visit her often. She just doesn't make me try everything for her all the time anymore, which I'm okay with. She was very apologetic after I was out of the hospital. She came by everyday with chocolate and the promise that she would never try to kill me again.

On this particular summer afternoon, I was at my own house, practically dying from heatstroke. It was a boiling day, so I was wearing a pair of light weight linen shorts and a black swim top. I had an ice pack on the back of my neck as I listened to the radio. Sprawled out over my couch, I used my tanned arm to cover my eyes and an electrical fan was blowing in my face and glistening bare stomach. During the song breaks, the announcers would comment on the insanely hot weather then continue playing upbeat summer songs.

I got a text from Lillian, and she asked me to come over. I threw the ice pack back in the freezer, applied some sunscreen, and got dressed. I replaced my bikini top with my favorite black cotton ribbed tank top because it doesn't show any stains when I'm sweating from the intense heat, and the scooped neckline is really flattering, along with a pair of jean shorts. My younger sister was over at a friend's house, so I didn't bother to ask if she wanted to come with. My parents are at work, but later they're going out of town with Lillian's parents for a trip. I sent my mom a text saying I was going to head over to Lillian's, and I began my drive.

I listened to my own summer music playlist as I drove over to Lillian's house. I groaned when the gas light came on, so I detoured to my favorite gas station, the Grease Monkey. It's not the closest one to my house, but it's easy to get to and the gas is cheaper over there. They also have a car service garage, so I usually go there when my tires need to be filled or if my oil needs to be changed. I pulled up to one of the few pumps and turned off my car. The little white gas station still has an old gasoline sign that sticks out over the door, and the front of the building says that they've got oil and grease, and that they offer towing. Other signs by the front door say that they've got ice cold drinks, and candies inside. I stepped out of my car and put my debit card into the pump. I plugged in my PIN, and let my car drink up the gasoline.

I leaned against my car as the gas chugged into my tank. I crossed one leg over the other, and I slipped a pair of black sunglasses on my head. It was so hot, I thought I might melt on the spot. I could see the heat haze waving over the asphalt, I swear I could smell it. I need an ice cream cone or an ice bath or something.

A beat up pick-up truck pulled in, and an older guy got out of the drivers seat. He was tall, and had curly dark salt-and-pepper hair with a cigarette tucked behind his ear. His nose was crooked, like it's been broken multiple times in his youth. He had a long jagged scar that shined in the sun that dragged from his temple down to his chin. He reminded me of an alley cat. His faded blue eyes locked to mine for a moment, so I flicked my sunglasses down to the bridge of my nose and crossed my arms over my chest and tried to ignore him.

He started getting his own gas pumped, and he said to me with his grating voice, "real nice."

I looked at him with wide eyes. I dipped my chin down and pulled my sunglasses down my nose enough for me to see him over the frame. "Excuse me?"

"The weather. It's real nice," he stated with a grim and bitter smile.

"Oh, yeah."

Weirdo. This is just not my day.