𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕. ♡ 𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆.

vi

september 1965
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"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

so that's what johnny did.

he sauntered out into the chilly evening and out the door of his home, or as he preferred to call it: hell on earth. his father had drunkenly yelled at him for doing nothing again, taking a few swings at him just for his own amusement. johnny didn't try to fight back, he took it. it was one of those days he couldn't feel anything. and these days seemed to occur more and more often, even on the days he was with the gang. sure, it was fun when they were around, but alone, johnny always ended up the way he is now, walking aimlessly as if it were an attempt to just run away from everything. and boy, did he wish he could properly run in the first place at the moment.

  after a while he happened to find himself crossing into the 'hood. not too far deep into its streets, but just enough to see the yellow house down a few blocks from where he stood. "at least here the old man can't find me, if he'd even step out to go after me," he sadly thought. he could hear something at that moment that broke him from this thoughts, however. a melodic string of words, undecipherable from the distance. curious, johnny kept walking down the sidewalk until he stopped a few feet away from the girl with spectacles singing on her doorstep.

the song stopped.

"johnny?" trish called out, seizing her little tune and tearing her wide eyes from the starry sky above.  johnny stayed quiet, but there was no need for him to speak since trish started doing all the talking.

  "good God! what on earth happened to you? are you alright? is anything broken? y'know what, why don't you step inside? i'll help patch you up. i'll try my best, my mom's a nurse so hopefully i have some of her skill," she rambled while showing johnny through the door, not giving him an opportunity to answer any of the questions anyway. she seated johnny down on her father's armchair before grabbing bandages and wetting a towel in the kitchen.

johnny remained silent and simply observed as trish put the wet towel to his bruises and wounds. he found it—this—strange. he saw the tremendous amount of worry on her face as she worked with great concentration to help bandage him up. he felt bad for taking up her time.

  "hey, but seriously, johnny, what  happened? you alright?" trish asked him once again after she finished, sitting back on the floor in front of him.

he looked at her. he thought of what she would think if he really told her. "she'll think i'm pathetic. her smiles are hiding something. they have to be." he didn't know why he was thinking this way, he knew trish was a good girl, and he didn't want to be thinking in such a way, but he supposed that's just what life does to you.

  after a moment he faked a chuckle,

  "uh, yeah, fell off my bike on the way home from the curtis's house," johnny lied. he knew he wasn't the best at lying so he expected trish wouldn't believe him. but to his surprise, trish smiled up at him.

  "well, it happens to the best of us," trish said, although she couldn't even ride a bike herself. johnny found it hard to believe, how trusting the girl was. it had genuinely puzzled him at that moment. it kind of made him envious.

trish asked yet another question.

  "so why'd you decide to stop by mine?"

  johnny was in the process of constructing another lame excuse when trish decided to answer her own question.

  "oh! your jacket! that's right, i still have it with me!" trish sprang up, "hang tight, i'll be right back!" and so trish ran off to somewhere in the house. johnny looked around and noticed the piano in the corner—the framed picture rested on top of it, more precisely the two other people besides trish in the picture.

  "here it is!" trish appeared in front of him, making him jump, extending out the denim jacket for him to take. "i've even washed it with the laundry," she added, smiling as always, while pointing out the articles of clothing seen from the window above the kitchen sink set out in the breeze to dry.

  "t-thanks."

  "and i've got something to give you, for lending me it in the first place. i almost forgot that, too."

trish made her way to the kitchen and pulled out a slice of strawberry shortcake from her brightly-colored fridge. she waved johnny over and once he sat down she moved the plate in front of him and placed a fork in his hand. he looked up to see that smile. that damn smile.

  "go on, take a bite. the last of my strawberries were spent on that. it'd be great to know the last shortcake i'll make this year was enjoyed."

hesitantly, johnny cut off a piece. it tasted amazing, as he expected. trish let him be and started cleaning up the kitchen from the banana bread she baked earlier that day for mrs. cragler down by the thrift shop.

johnny thought of the picture on the piano again.

"so where're your folks?"

trish stopped wiping down the counter for a brief moment, before continuing with providing the answer,

"work."

"this late?" johnny questioned.

"got a note from my mom on the fridge this morning, said they'll be out 'til tomorrow," trish passively explained. johnny nodded, taking another bite.

"then how about your folks? shouldn't you be home? with them?" trish had switched the attention onto him. he almost choked.

"um— out working too. l-lost my house key too when bringing my bike to the shop," he lied. trish nodded.

"i see. say, um— if you needa crash somewhere, my couch is free," trish offered. once again, johnny was in utter bewilderment. how could someone be so open to letting a greaser stay in for the night? nonetheless, johnny never failed to turn up an opportunity to get away from his parents, so he accepted.

that night johnny had the soundest sleep he'd had in a while, being lulled by the murmur of trish in her room humming along to the radio and the shadows of leaves dancing on the living room wall in the moonlight. he slipped on the jacket before he fell asleep despite the blanket trish had provided him.

it smelled like vanilla.