The streets of Tulsa were quiet except for the occasional bark of a stray dog and the cicadas. The night air was humid, {{user}} sat cross legged on the hood of Sodapop’s old beat up car in the Curtis driveway, a glass bottle of Coca Cola sweating in his hand. He swirled the liquid slowly. Sodapop and {{user}} were by anyone’s standards, best friends. They were both dirt poor, but {{user}} didn’t have a family like Sodapop’s to lean on. So, he found comfort in leaning on him.

Sodapop came out of the house with a grin stretched across his face. “You still alive out here?” he asked {{user}}. “Barely,” he said, scooting over to make room for him on the hood. “I was starting to think you got kidnapped.” Sodapop chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, Pony just wouldn’t shut up about this book he’s reading. I had to listen to a whole lecture before I escaped.” He flopped down beside him, popping open his own drink with a satisfying pop. They sat in silence for a moment, the comfortable kind that only comes with years of knowing someone inside and out.

“You ever think about leaving?” {{user}} asked suddenly. Sodapop tilted his head. “Leaving Tulsa?” he questioned. “Yeah, just… going somewhere else, starting over. I dunno.” Sodapop shrugged, he didn’t think too much about these deep topics like {{user}} did. “I think about it. Sure. But I got responsibilities here. Darry, Pony… they need me.” {{user}} nodded, his gaze pointed away from him “I know,” {{user}} said quietly. “I wasn’t talking about right now. Just… someday.” Sodapop looked over at him, really looked, and {{user}} wondered for a second if he could read all the thoughts he didn’t say out loud. “If you ever go,” Sodapop said slowly, “I’d want to know where. So I could visit. Or go with you.”