Hey everyone! I've been inactive on FanFiction and I wrote this late at night. Be nice.
I know this is a despised "sister-fic" and if my character looks way too Mary-Sue-ish, let me know cuz I want to know. I didn't make Cleo just to change the story line. I just want to put in a different perspective on this story. I imagined a teenage girl growing up in a house of boys. Just thought it would be fun to write. I read this book for my English class and I really love the fact of brothers supporting each other so I decided to weave a girl in.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters...blahblahblah...S. does.
Also, I did a little bit of editing so thanks Mopiece for helping me out!
"Morning Cleo," Darry, my oldest brother nudged my shoulder.
"Hmm…" I knew if I didn't get up soon, he would tickle me until I couldn't breathe. Or worse, call in Soda.
"Up, now. You've gotta get to school." I rolled over and groaned. My brothers always woke me up at least 30 minutes earlier than they needed to because honestly, in the morning, I'm a dead man walking. Or girl. Whatever.
"I'm calling in Soda if you aren't up in ten." He threatened. I threw my pillow at him and ducked under my covers. I swear I could feel Darry grinning down. And in less than about a couple seconds later, I heard, "SODA!"
Two thumbs dug into my sides and I yelped. "Okay, okay, I'm getting up!" Ignoring me as usual, Soda pulled my sheets of and flipped me on my stomach and tickled me. "Stop. Stop! Sodapop!"
He grinned but let me go and followed Darry out of the room. I swung my feet around and blinked, letting everything come into focus.
I stumbled into the bathroom and splashed cool water on my face. It helped wake me up real fast. I walked over to the laundry basket and grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of jeans then jammed my feet into a pair of sneakers. I didn't care what people thought of me. I don't care about nothing when it comes to clothes. Plus, everything I wore were mostly I pulled my hair into a messy ponytail. I hated my hair; it got into my face too much and was always a nuisance when I tried to fend off my brothers. It's not like I ever get it cut though. I hacked at it with the kitchen scissors whenever it got too long.
"Hey, the zombie lives!" Two-bit slid into a chair. I glared at him before grinning. He can make anyone laugh.
"Watch your mouth Matthews," I shot back. "You ain't a saint in the morning either." Soda laughed. "Hey, Dar, where's Mom and Dad?" I called into the kitchen where Darry was flipping eggs.
"They left early this morning. Uh, why?" Was his reply.
"Pony and I have a track meet. High school runs in the morning but mine is after school." I wondered vaguely what sport I was playing the winter or spring even though school just started a couple of weeks ago.
"Yeah, I know. Pony already left." He slid an egg sandwich on my plate. "And you better get hurrying or your going to miss school."
I gobbled down my breakfast and grabbed my backpack and shot down the front steps. School was only about a couple of miles away.
Maybe I should tell you about the gang. My family is the Curtis family. I have a mom, dad, and three teenage brothers. My dad, Darrel Curtis Sr. is a bright, original man. He gave Sodapop and Ponyboy their names. My oldest brother, Darrel Curtis Jr. is the spitting image of our dad. He acts more like our mom though. My mom is a gentle, take charge, kind of person. My second oldest brother, Sodapop Curtis, 16, looks like my mom and acts like my dad. Soda can't take life seriously. Ponyboy is just a year older than I am. He's smart so he skipped a grade so now he's in high school. Pony, like me, is not quite like either of our parents. He's always got his nose stuck in a book or he's drawing something.
Then you have me: Kathleen Cleo Curtis. My parents must have been ready for another boy because my name was going to be Max Cleo Curtis. My dad insisted on keeping the middle name the same but my mom changed my first name to match a girl I guess. It was pointless because everyone still called me Cleo. Not that it means anything. What bugs me is my height. I look 10 because even though I'm 13, I'm still not quite 5 foot yet.
In our gang, there are quite a variety of people. Two-Bit Matthews, the wise-cracker, can't shut up. Dallas Winston has had the fuzz after him for everything under the sun. Steve, Soda's best friend since grade school, only tolerates me and Pony because we're Soda's kid siblings. Otherwise, he would have thrown us to the wolves long ago. And you have Johnny. He's 16 and has a dark, suspicious look in his eyes. He gets beaten up at home a lot so it scares him something awful.
The late summer sun was shinning brightly so I decided to sprint the last couple of blocks. Being athletes runs through our family I guess. We could all play football real good, even though Darry was the best player, Soda was a tuff basketball player, and Pony and I liked track.
It's real funny how Pony and I are quite similar, yet opposites. People have mistaken us twins almost 'cuz we were both pretty short and we both have our dad's red-brown hair, and our mom's bright green-grey eyes. We can run okay, but other than that, we're pretty different. He normally stays quite, but I've got mood swings every other minute. He's got book smarts, in fact, so smart he got moved up a grade, while I'm still rotting in 7th grade because my grades are "barely passing". But I've got the common sense, which the rest of us are sure it doesn't even exist in Pony. Heck, maybe all the differences have something to do with the fact we argue a lot like two siblings but we get along like 'em too.
I hiked my backpack up over my shoulder and entered school. I didn't have too many friends. Enough so I'm not a loner, but since my school consists normally of socs, most of them ignore me like I've got some disease. Or maybe it's just the blue-handled switch blade I slip into my back jeans pocket when Darry isn't looking.
Later, I was warming up for my track meet. The late afternoon sun was beating down and sweat was beginning to form on the back of my neck. I glanced up and saw my mom and my dad. I still remembered my mom was wearing that large aqua-like ring she always wore and my dad was running his hands through his hair, bleached white from the long hours he spent in the sun.
After the race, my parents took me home but they went out to dinner. It was their anniversary, September 13.
"Hey, Cleo, how didja do?" Sodapop glanced up when I entered the room. Soda was watching the television in the living room while Pony was curled up beside him, reading a book.
"Eh, first." I shrugged. "There ain't too many people running track this year anyways."
"Nice!" Pony looked up and slapped me a high-five.
Soda looked at me. "Who says? You still got first, and you train hard everyday. Don't matter to me, just as long as you whipped the other kids' ass."
"Soda, for Pete's sake, watch your language!" Darry has ears like a radar. He hears everything. I stifled a giggle and walked to my room to do my homework. Darry checks both mine and Pony's homework every night to make sure we get good grades.
That night, I was lying in bed, unable to go to sleep for some reason. It was nearly 2 AM and I wasn't able to sleep a wink. Pony and Soda were on the other side of the wall, talking in hushed voices. I normally fall asleep listening to them talk.
A knock was heard at the door. I opened my door and walked out into the living room where Darry was reading the paper.
"Cleo, what are you doing up right now?" The knock came again and he shook his head like he was imagining it. If it were any of the gang, they would have just marched in and made themselves at home. The door was never locked.
"Thirsty," I mumbled and walked to the kitchen sink.
This time, a fist pounded our door in three successive pounds, as loud as a gun shot. Darry swore under his breath and opened the door.
"What do you want?" He glared at the men standing in front of him. There were two, dressed up professionally.
"Sir," one said. Then he looked at the taller man for approval. The man nodded. "We don't mean you no harm." He looked scared and I didn't blame him. I recognized the look he was getting from Darry, and I knew that look. It always scared the heck outta me.
I stood there, frozen, a cup still held halfway to my lips. I didn't know what they wanted, or really what they wanted to say.
The other man cut straight to the point. "Did you know Darrel and Michelle Curtis?" He looked Darry up and down as if trying to decide who he was.
He shrugged. Fear flashed across his face, only for a split moment, and not noticeable enough unless you're paying close attention. He jammed his fists into his pockets. "Ya, guess I do."
He paused, then said, "You must be their son then, Darrel Curtis Jr. It says you have three other siblings: Sodapop, Ponyboy, and Kathleen."
I glanced up and the mention of my real and first name. No one had called me that except when I was in trouble or something big had happened.
"Yeah. That's them." Darry's voice was becoming impatient and his sentences clipped.
The shorter man stepped forward. "Real sorry, but your parents were both caught in an auto wreck. You dad is dead and your mom is real near."
The only sound was the shattering of glass against the floor when I dropped my cup in shock.
A/N: Good, bad? I want to know. The best thing you can offer me is constructive critism. Thanks for y'alls support!
Oh, I had no clue what-so-ever about Mrs. Curtis's name. I was never sure if it was mentioned at all.