Steve's Diary

January 1, 1935

Dear Diary,

Last night was fun... I think.

The thing is, my memory of it isn't, exactly, completely in tact...

Okay okay, I'll admit, we went out. Yes, to a party. Yes, there was drinking. No! Of course I didn't drink! Are you insane? Okay, fine. I drank a little. Just a sip out of Bucky's cup... we'll actually it was a cup of my own, I think.

Alright I'll explain...

—————

"We're going," he insisted.

"No, we most absolutely are not. Buck, it's just not a good idea," I refused.

"Why not? It'll be fun. Especially for someone like you..."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I'm just sayin', we don't do much. Sure, we go to Coney Island and we hang around on the street but this... it's a party. With a bunch of people we know from around town... and there'll be drinks. I mean, finally. The prohibition has been over for, I dunno, a month now... we can do whatever we wanna do, Steve. Let's go do it!"

I mean, in all honesty, he was kinda right. But, I hadn't exactly been to that kinda party before either. I haven't the slightest idea what to do around drunk people, and I myself have never had a sip of alcohol in my life (plus, seeing how I have such a frail frame, my body probably wouldn't take it all that well). I guess I'll never know if I don't try, right?

"Fine."

"But Steve... wait, you wanna go?"

"Not exactly, but you want to and we have nothing else to do anyway."

"Good enough for me... oh, and that dame I like'll be there," he added.

Dame? What dame?

"Uhh, Buck, who the hell you talkin' about?"

"You don't remember? That red head from Rockaway beach... you know her, don't you? That time we had to ride home in the freezer truck because we spent our train money on hot dogs... and I was tryna win her that stuffed bear. I mean, I didn't. But I spent three bucks tryin'."

"Oh yea... what's her name again?"

"Delores."

"Oh yea... you called her Dot."

"Mmmhm."

• • •

So off to the party we went. Bucky told me it was supposed to go from 7pm December 31, 1933 to 3am January, 1934. Kinda cool, I guess, but I figure I'll be long gone by then. Meaning, I'll be asleep before the clock strikes twelve.

Or at least that's what I thought.

7:39pm
"Buck! You've officially lost it! There has got to be a least a hundred people here! I can barely hear myself think!" I shouted over the roar of all the people at the (finally legal) bar that was hosting the get together.

"What!?" He yelled back.

"Nothing..." my voice trailed off.

9:21pm
"Steeeeeeve come on! Live a little! Have a sip," he handed me his glass, "for me?"

Fucking hell, he knows I can't say no when he pulls that one.

I examined its thick yellow consistency and white foam residing on the edges of the glass. It smelled extremely strong, kinda gross, but sent shivers through my spine, so I caved.