𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚘'𝚜

The amusement park closed after a few hours. It was awesome.

We were leaning on Steve's car, talking about how fun it was as we watched the sun set in front of us.

"So what if we hang out at the Dingo's a little while before we part ways?" Steve suggested.

"Only if you invite dinner." Soda smirked.

"As long as you don't get three dollars' worth of food like last time, I will."

"Three dollars?" I laughed in surprise.

Sodapop blushed, looking away. Steve patted Sodapop's shoulder, having no regret about exposing his eating habits. "He is one hell of an eater."

It was cute seeing Sodapop roll his eyes at Steve.

We got inside his car and waited for Steve to start the engine.

When we arrived at the Dingo's, the sky had already darkened to black, with stars hanging like little sparkles. Sodapop pulled open the door, stepping aside to let Soda and me inside.

"There you boys are!" a blonde waitress said, before looking me up and down, her smile faltering a little. She looked around my age, maybe even Steve's or Two-bit's. Her eyes were a piercing blue, which didn't exactly make me feel welcome with the glare she gave me.

"Hey, Cindy."

We took a booth and sat on the vinyl seats. Cindy pulled out her notepad and pen, then looked at Sodapop. "So, what can I get y'all?"

"I'll get the usual," Steve said, looking at the menu for no reason whatsoever.

"So will I." Sodapop smiled.

I stared hard at the menu. The names were intriguing, offering full meals of burgers, fries, and sodas.

"You got milkshakes?"

She stared at me for a second, then slowly nodded.

"Y/n, don't worry. Get whatever you want."

I kept looking between the two pages. It all seemed appetizing, but I couldn't decide.

I could tell the waitress was getting impatient. She clicked her pen in a repeated pattern, like she was tapping out some kind of Morse code.

"Can I get whatever they ordered?"

"They have two completely different orders," she smacked, chewing hard on her bubblegum.

"Doesn't matter. Either one."

She rolled her eyes and wrote the order down before leaving.

The audacity of this girl.

"So, Y/n, ready for the next hangout?"

I looked at Sodapop. "Really? Another one?"

"Yeah! Me and Soda were thinking of taking you to our favorite spot on Saturday."

"Boss gave us another day off. Seems like time's in our favor now."

"Yeah, sure. I ain't got anything to do that day."

Sodapop rubbed the back of his neck and grinned. "Great!"

After a few minutes, Cindy came back with a tray holding the plates. She set them down one by one, then left.

Steve quickly grabbed his burger and began eating. I sipped my milkshake, zoning out, until I felt a familiar warm grip on my shoulder.

"Nice seein' you again, doll."

I looked back, seeing Pony and Johnny behind him, glancing around.

"Hey, Dally. What are you doing here?"

"We dig it here for hangouts. I'm surprised you're here with these two."

He motioned to the boys eating their food like it was some sort of competition. The boys sat across from us, already getting louder as they greeted each other. Pony and Johnny grabbed some straws from the dispenser, ripping the tips of the wrappers and blowing them off with the plastic straws. Steve and Soda had started pouring salt and pepper onto the table to see if they could separate them grain by grain. Dallas was busy stealing fries from the basket while I tried finishing my burger without laughing.

"Boys, do you mind not throwing trash on the floor?" an older waitress asked, picking up the paper wrappers.

"We're not throwing them—we're just seeing if they fly."

She rolled her eyes and let out an exhausted sigh. I kicked Pony on the shin and whispered, "Don't be difficult. Pick it up."

While Pony reluctantly picked up the trash, Dally and Johnny ordered some food. Pony later asked for the same thing Sodapop got.

When another waitress came to pass out the food, she accidentally spilled the Coke she was handing to Dally, drenching my shirt. I gasped, feeling the freezing soda soak into my skin.

"Hold it!" Sodapop snatched some napkins from the dispenser and dabbed at my shirt.

I was blushing hard, a tingling feeling creeping in from how close his hand was.

"You're getting pretty touchy there, buddy," Steve said, side-eyeing Sodapop as he finished his fries.

Sodapop flushed. "Shut your trap, Randle. I'm just helping her with the stain."

After it dried, the dark spot still lingered on my white tee. I sighed as Sodapop tossed the third napkin away. "I tried..."

"It's fine. Thank you."

He smiled and nodded.