dor 【 sodapop curtis 】

one.

tulsa

Agnes awoke in the backseat of her car after hearing rustling outside. She stretched and yawned, adjusting her crimped blonde hair and lighting a cigarette. She rolls down the windows of the bucket and took in the sights around her, it was nothing to her but also it was everything. She took a second to think about where she was based on the land of grass and dust around her. She smiled and leaned on the window, finally deciding to go on to whatever the next place was that she landed in.

After the engine of her car faltering multiple times, the car started, and she noticed that the tank would also need to be filled after a hundred or so more miles. She rolled her eyes and scratched at her head, speeding off into an unknown direction. She could only hope the gears didn't give her anymore troubles as she drove so quickly. She scouted for a gas station or a car shop of any kind to find out what was wrong with her current baby.

After what was probably a couple hours, Agnes was in this beat up town full of people denim-clad and dressed in black with long, greased up hair, and in just a minute it seemed like she was in a completely different place. Large, beautiful houses, classy looking people, clean streets. She slowed down and asked a girl she spotted with short black hair where she could get her car looked at or gas.

"Oh," she says, turning to face the girl in the car, "you can get both at the DX. It's back the other way."

"Oh yeah, I think I may have seen a sign. Thank you," Agnes says, turning back the other way. On the way to the gas station, she spotted a large house that had a small help wanted sign. She knew she shouldn't leave her car, as it was probably going to break down any second, but she really needed a job. She was running low on the cash she'd acquired from the last place she stayed. She walked into the place and discovered it was like a club or a bar.

"Can I help you, little lady?" A large, intimidating guy says.

"I was lookin' for a job. Need help 'round here?" she asks, putting her hands in the pockets of her shorts.

He crossed his arms, "I don't know, I can't have people as sweet lookin' as you. Quit to easy."

"Oh please, don't mind the look. I can tend a bar, serve, and clean up, and I know how to keep people in line. Next?"

He chuckled at the girl and shrugged, "Yeah, yeah. Tonight, you just show up and leave when everybody is either passed out or gone, whichever happens first."

"That's it?" That was by far the easiest interview she'd done before.

"Yeah. You get paid in tips, you only get three bucks a night from me, so, uh, find a way to entertain," he says with a wink and a tilt of his hat. He walked passed her and she shook her head. What an ass. But an ass with a job for me, so I don't care, she thought, walking out of the sleazy bar. She started her car and it started a little better than usual, but she still got it to the DX station with little to no problem.

"Need help, Miss?" a guy in a blue shirt with the name 'SODAPOP' sewn into the pocket asked her.

She nodded, stepping out of the car, "I think I need a battery or somethin', and some gas." She rested her hands on her hips, "Y'all sell those here?"

"Yes, ma'am. Pretty good ones too. How long have you had this one?" he asks, lifting the hood.

"Only a couple months or so. It's real old, though. I got it from some parkin' lot in North Carolina," she explains, "It was alright, but it's never run very smoothly."

"I can see. Your transmission ain't been the best neither, huh?"

She raised an eyebrow, "The gears sometimes slip, or get stuck. That's the transmission, right?"

"Yes," he nods, chuckling at her ignorance of the subject. "That's real dangerous, too. Lucky for you, m'lady, we here know what the hell we're doin'. We can get you a new battery, fix the transmission and add the fluid, and change your oil for about 50 bucks. Maybe even less, depends on how long it takes and if we got the right stuff for this car."

"Fifty bucks," she whispered to herself. "I would think it costs more."

"Usually it does, but I was also hopin' you'd hang out with me sometime to make up the difference." She chuckled and leaned against her borrowed car.

"I don't know, I just got a job somewhere and the guy seems real pushy."

"Where you workin'?

"I don't know, I think it's a bar. A big, kinda messy bar in a house."

"Buck's." She shrugged and agreed quietly, watching as he moved his attention from her to her car and back to her. She had to admit, the boy was gorgeous. His hair was slicked back, she could tell that grease seemed to be a trademark for this town, and his face seemed to be sculpted by an artist, like it was almost too perfect to be real. She wondered what in the hell had to be wrong with this boy.

"Can you tell me where I am?"

"Tulsa," he answered, and upon seeing the lost look on her face, he elaborated, "Oklahoma. You new 'round here?"

"Sure."

"Where you from?" She didn't know how to answer. She was from Alabama, but she never liked to admit that. Alabama was a terrible state. She couldn't be from anywhere else that she'd been, she never stayed long enough.

"New York City."

"Yeah? I got a friend from New York City." She cursed in her mind and bit her lip, nodding. "What are ya' doin' here?"

"I don't know. I just drive until I get where I'm going."

He looked at her in a state of confusion. "Where ya' goin'?"

"Nowhere."

idk how good or bad his is & im kinda worried, but thanks if you read it anyway
also idk about cars, so i might get something wrong when it comes to that