Thread: When Nobody's Watching [Dane Stalling & dearestdarling]

September 2nd, 1967 Joyce has been hanging around with the degenerates that live on the outskirts of town, 'Free Love' types that she claims to be visionaries and philosophers. I know them to be drug addicts and communists, not that Joyce could even tell you what communism is. She was a real dummy even before she started toking. Her latest boyfriend showed up last Saturday night at our door, minutes after Mom and Father left for the church fundraiser. Johnny's tall and has longer hair than mine, which Joyce teased me about by telling me how fun it is to pull during . If only Father knew of the characters Joyce sneaks in and out of the house, I think he would blow a gasket. Joyce was still locked in the bathroom, probably putting on a fresh coat of paint. I was reading, as usual, in the window seat. She hollered at me through the door, told me to let Johnny in. Hey sugar, he said, and he didn't seem disappointed that I was the one who had answered the door, and not Joyce. He had feathers in his hair. Just got this brand new stuff from a friend in Springfield. It's great. Easy to hide and trips are out of this world. He opened his wallet and pulled out the tiniest little slip of paper. I stared at it. It looked so happy . It even smiled at me. Lysergic acid diethylamide. He called it California Sunshine. He told me to close my eyes and stick out my tongue, and for a moment.... Of course I said no though. He gave it to me anyway, grinning like a madman, and told me to taste it when life in Dullsville became too much to bear. He leaned in close, pressed the blotter into my hand, and suddenly I understood what Joyce sees in him. Those molten chocolate eyes. I worried that he could read my mind I know that sounds stupid. I couldn't speak. He reached towards me and took my glasses away from my face, and if the moment wasn't a blur before, it definitely was then. You know, you're actually kind of pretty, he said, and I was pressed against the front door, tongue-tied. He was so close... I could taste his breath. I wanted him to kiss me He brushed my lip with his thumb and I swear that my heart stopped beating... but then Joyce came bounding out of the bathroom and he was suddenly across the room from me, jumping away like I had burned him. I heard my glasses clatter to the floor. We're gonna be late-- what were you talking to that drag for? Late for what, I wonder. I never found out-- he winked at me over his shoulder and they were gone. I watched from the window as they drove away in his cherry-red Cadillac, into the night. That moment... It was gone. Back to Darcy. The only boyfriend I'll ever have, if you listen to Joyce. I should've told our parents about the drugs. Thrown it away. Flushed it. If our father ever found out... Instead, I'll keep it pressed into the pages of this book. I can't afford to trip. I'm... afraid to trip. Unlike Joyce, who earns her living wage in the back seats of cars, I have a job. A menial one, sure, but Mr. Hopkins depends on me. More than he realizes. You'd think as a seasoned journalist, he'd know the difference between there, their, and they're by now. The next morning, she barely had time to sneak home and change her underwear before it was time to go to church. She smelled like bonfire smoke and sex. How she could stand and sing the hymns without being struck by lightning, I'll never know. Maybe God really does have a sense of humor. Geez. Even in my own diary, she's the starlet, and I'm supporting cast at best. I have to go for now, and I'm leaving you behind. I feel badly but you hold contraband now, and if Mom ever found you, I think she'd cry for a month and send Joyce away to one of those homes for wayward women. At least you'll be at home amongst other books. Who knows, maybe you'll even make a few friends. But I'll come to visit often.... Until then. G