Honey Drip // Danny Wagner

Part II // Chapter IV

It continues...

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It was easier than I expected–perhaps easier than I'd hoped–for me to get swept up in the sparkling chaos of the fireman's carnival. I almost forgot about the fact that Danny and I went every June and it was the first time I'd gone alone–it'd either been Danny and I or all five of us, with Josh shoving all of us into various rides and Danny insisting on trying everything that every food truck, cart and vendor had to offer. I could feel me missing them, missing him, still heavy in my heart, but the choking powdered sugar and vegetable oil smell of fried dough, the wisp of cigarette smoke and the starchy scent of beer spilled in grass watered the feelings down little by little.

I got myself a six dollar PBR and sipped it slowly, not entirely sure if I should try and become the crowd or continue to observe more so than engage. I'd already seen what seemed like everyone I'd gone to high school with and had already dabbled in small talk with a few, while others nodded, waved and smiled and carried on. I felt like the only one who was truly on their own in that crowd, except for one guy who was perpetually hanging out by some of the port-o-potties, and I reminded myself to avoid that area.

I finished the PBR and wished I had brought something else for myself. Josh had bequeathed me a sleek silver flash with Jake's own etchings a couple years prior and I realized, while holding my empty six-dollar PBR, that I'd never actually used it. This realization sent me right back to thinking about Danny–he would have never let me buy a six-dollar PBR. He would have been clever enough to have prepared ahead of time, or he would have paid for it on my behalf, with no complaint, no eye roll, no huffing. He would have slid the cash across the counter and then wrapped his arm around my waist, stealing half of it for himself.

I wished he was with me. The myriad of thoughts bombarded me–where was he? Was he just with the boys? What were they doing? Were they actually working or were they just goofing off, getting high and drunk? What was Danny wearing and was his hair up or down?

The spiral was interrupted by a loud, "Hey!" from behind me. I wasn't sure if it was directed at me or not but my body responded before my brain and I turned around–it was Ryan, with two others, a guy and a girl, and the other guy looked vaguely familiar but I couldn't place him as they approached, Ryan looking more enthusiastic than the others.

"Oh, hey," I greeted, still holding the empty can, not wanting to just throw it in the trash.

"Having fun?" Ryan asked, the three of them standing in front of me, all of basically blocking the lemonade truck, others pushing past us.

"I paid six dollars for this," I said, holding up the can, the running joke of the night.

"We just smoked," he replied, and since I was actually looking at him, I noticed he was even more tan than when I'd seen him at the party. "If I'd known, I would have saved you some."

"It's alright," I said, glancing to his friends, realizing how I knew the other guy–Tyler. Tyler, the one who'd had me listen to that awful indie band and had touched my leg and subsequently sent Danny into a ridiculous tailspin of jealousy. The memory almost made me laugh–I would have given anything to see Danny become ridiculous and jealous then.

"We're gonna go on the ferris wheel," the girl said to Ryan, grabbing Tyler's hand.

They walked away; Ryan shoved his hands into his pockets and exhaled, smiling. I didn't really like hanging out with stoned people when I was not, but since his friends had gone, it didn't seem like an appropriate time to ditch him. Anyways, I knew I had to make other friends, be around other people. After the boys had left for Detroit a couple days prior, I'd reflected–begrudgingly–and realized that I really had become too dependent on them. We'd been tied at the hip for so long, I realized I didn't spend time with hardly anyone else, nor did I care to. It was like I always had blinders on.