I should be finishing Janet and Monica off but this has been sitting on my laptop for a while so.
"Susan Davis?"
She hates the name Susan. It makes her sound like her grandmother, the one who leeches off her dad because she can't keep money herself without gambling it all away. The one who begs her dad to pay for her electricity because she doesn't have any money this month. Her mother told her that Grandma Davis was always like this, even before she had married into the family, and that Grandma Davis had demanded their daughter be named after her.
It makes her sound old.
It's Susie, she wants to say. I'm not Susan.
"Here," She says instead, because Susie Davis, unlike Grandma Davis, doesn't have the backbone to correct the teacher.
The teacher (who Susie doesn't know the name of; she's new, so at least she can be forgiven for calling her the forbidden name) picks her out in the sea of students and nods decisively to herself. "Susan, right. Your partner, your partner…"
Susie waits as patiently as she can for the teacher to tell her who she's working with. The anticipation isn't making her excited, it's making her nervous. Gosh, it better not be anyone she doesn't know, especially not one of those rich kids who sneer at her scuffed sneakers and make snide comments about her hair.
"Ah, there we go! Ponyboy Curtis," The teacher finally picks the name out. From the corner of her vision she can see the Curtis boy turn to look at her. Well, that's not too bad. He's been her classmate for as long as she can remember, but that doesn't necessarily make it any better.
Susie sinks into her seat and wishes that class was over.
Ponyboy Curtis slides into the seat beside her on the lunch break. Usually Nancy and Linda come by rather quickly to meet at one of the lunch tables (or they meet by Nancy's locker if they can't find one) so he must've followed her straight out of their biology class.
"We should talk about our assignment," Ponyboy says without so much as a hello. Susie makes him wait until she's finished her mouthful of sandwich before answering.
"Okay. What do we need to talk about?"
Ponyboy shoots her a smile. "Well, for one we need to talk about what we're writin' it on."
Susie takes another thoughtful bite of her sandwich. "I don't know – cells or something?"
That seems to pacify him, and he nods. "We can talk more about it in class. See ya later Susie."
He leaves, and Susie waits for her friends to join her. Part of her wonders if she should feel bad for making him do all the work, but she doesn't let herself dwell on it for too long. After all, its only a stupid school assignment, right?
Susie has a decent life. Decent house, decent parents, decent clothes (although the sleeves on her favourite salmon pink sweater are a little too stretched for her liking).
Back when her father didn't work as much, he would read her old western stories. Susie isn't much of a reader, but the idea of cowboys captivated her even now. She used to sit on his knee in the living room as he spoke in quiet, quiet whispers about Jane Whithersteen or Sunk Creek Ranch, and little Susie would gasp and beg for just one more chapter, daddy and he would comply, even though he would lower his voice even more so her mother wouldn't notice she was up past her bedtime.
He works far too much now to even look at his collection of western stories. Sometimes Susie is tempted to pick one up and read it herself, but the closest she's ever come is touching the spine, about to pull it from the bookshelf, only to push it back in.
She was an only child; her mother had suffered in childbirth, narrowly avoiding death, and was much too scared of dying to try again. Because of this, her parents had been extremely supportive when she was younger, taking her to the duck pond whenever she asked and patching up her old hobby horse whenever it began to look a little worse for wear. Susie wonders if they were guilty that she had nobody else.
Ponyboy sees her in the hallways at school and brightly greets her.
"Heya Susie. Wanna walk to class together?"
It's such a kind offer that she can't help but nod. She doesn't talk as they head down the halls, but Ponyboy fills the gaps in for her.
"I found some good books in the library on cell division, so if you want we can do our assignment on that."
"Sounds good," Susie responds, clutching her books closer to her chest. "We can meet in the library during lunch if you want to. You know. To get this out of the way and all."
Ponyboy nods and parts from her to take his seat. Susie's stomach churns.
The walk to the library is as quiet as she thought it would be, but it feels better once they sit in the silence of the library and sift through the information in the books Ponyboy had found. While he works, Susie thinks.
She wasn't very smart. She isn't sure why she said to do they assignment on cells; she barely knows a thing about cells. But Ponyboy is different. He understands what they are taught and it almost makes Susie jealous. Sometimes life makes her feel like she's getting burned alive.
Susie has a foggy memory of the Curtis' household, from one moment in her childhood. She, along with a few other children that must have a kind of friend to the youngest Curtis brother at some point that she no longer recalls, had been invited to their house for the afternoon. It was nice, from what few memories she has of the moment.
Even now, Ponyboy was nice. He didn't know her – not personally – but he smiled at her in the halls and asked how are you doing today Susie? and it makes Susie want to cry. But she doesn't, because that would be weird. She doesn't want him to think she's weird.
"I was thinking a written report, and then some kind of visual thing."
She had been staring at him for so long that she didn't notice he had begun speaking. Her cheeks turned red, and she muttered out something affirmative.
How can anyone be so nice?
Susie is a milk-before-cereal kind of girl, and it makes her feel weird. Her friends are more cereal-before-milk and Susie doesn't know how to feel about that.
The milk drips into the bowl at an unreasonably slow pace (she hates it when the milk pours out too fast, so she makes sure it goes as slow and gently as possible) and Susie counts the problems with it.
1. The milk gets warm by the time the cereal is added.
2. The cereal stays crunchy, and that's almost a good thing. Almost.
3. It's probably a sign of psychopathy.
It's weird that you don't realise the problems with something until you really think about it.
Thinking back on it, Susie had always been a bit odd. Choosing to sword fight imaginary enemies with a stick in her backyard on those disgusting, sticky days instead of heading to the creek to swim with her dad, or rubbing the bubble bath mix all over her body instead of putting it directly into the bath because "it felt better that way".
She lifts the spoon in the cereal to her lips. Well, maybe she isn't that odd. There's got to be at least one other person in Tulsa who makes their cereal milk first.
Every lunch is spent with Ponyboy Curtis in the library. She doesn't mind; it's a nice change from hanging around Nancy and Linda. She liked her friends well enough, but they were both a lot more outgoing than she was. Ponyboy never pressured her to answer questions. It was like he got her on a personal level, in a way her friends had never been able to.
There's a primal instinct deep in her gut that wants to kiss Ponyboy Curtis. It's stupid; she knows it's just because he's the first boy she's ever really been around, but she can't help the feeling from crawling up into her throat, her heart thumping against her chest.
"How's that poster comin' along?"
She quickly looks away from him and down to the poster, to the red pencil in her hand. She's not much of an artist, but Ponyboy compliments her work often, validating her with words of encouragement. The butterflies in her stomach come alive every time he says something nice.
"Hey that cell looks real good. You're doing a great job Susie."
Flutter, flutter, flutter.
"Oh," is all she can manage, bending over her work to let her hair hide her red face from Ponyboy's view. She hears him chuckle, and its such a sweet sound she just about cries.
They work in a long silence. The bell is about to chime, signalling the end of the lunch break. With her heart hammering in her chest, Susie lifts her head and speaks.
"Ponyboy," She asks cautiously, and when he turns to answer her, she places an awkwardly placed kiss on his lips. Without even stopping to think about what she was doing she gathered her stuff together and forced out an apology.
She leaves before the bell even goes off.
The stray cat is crying at the back door again.
It's small and impossibly skinny, and Susie felt so much pity the first time it came by that she feeds it whenever she can.
The house is quiet, save for the ticking of the clock in the kitchen. Her parents leave early and come home late, so being alone doesn't bother her too much.
The cat is very timid (which she can relate to) and it never lets her touch it. Sometimes, on good days, it winds between her legs and purrs like it's thankful for the runny mashed potato and the tough, overcooked steak she gives it.
Her mother has left a pot of oatmeal on the stove. Susie glances into the pot and cringes at the thick, brown substance.
The radio plays some song while she tries to eat her oatmeal in peace and ignore the crying cat in her backyard. The cat doesn't leave as long as it knows she's home.
Her clothes smell like lavender when she pulls it over her head. There's something comforting about the smell. The brush combs through her hair with ease.
She stares in the bathroom mirror for a long time. She desperately wishes she could go back to bed and never wake up. She had totally embarrassed herself yesterday with that dumb kiss. Now Ponyboy is going think she's stupid and it's going to be awkward being his partner for the assessment. The fear settles in the pit on her stomach and the feeling crawls up her throat again.
She's surprised when she bends down over the toilet bowl and throws up her breakfast. Her hands are shaking as she stares at the mushy brown remains of her oatmeal before finally flushing it.
The cat is still crying as it follows her down the driveway, and Susie can't help but feel the same way.
She has half a mind to skip out on the library all together that day, but Susie can't bring herself to. Still, she stalled before finally getting over herself and going inside. Ponyboy looks relieved when she entered.
"I'm sorry about yesterday," She says as she sits.
"It's fine," He says slowly, opening one of the books where he had left off. "I don't – I don't like you like that Susie."
She knew it was coming, but still her heart dropped. She hated herself for that. "It's okay. I didn't expect you to feel the same way anyway. I'm just dumb, Ponyboy."
He looks like he wants to say something against that, but doesn't. Susie's heart sinks further.
Neither of them talk the whole time. They leave in the same silence.
"Linda, I've done some stupid stuff in my life, but I never thought that kissing a boy would be the worst."
On the other end of the line, Susie hears Linda laugh.
"Don't worry 'bout it, Susie Q. Hell, every girl in our grade wants to kiss Ponyboy Curtis."
Susie sighs loudly.
"Yeah, I know, but still. He didn't talk to me at all during lunch."
"Did you talk to him?"
There was a pause, and Linda laughs again.
"You're such a child."
At first, Susie tenses up, but relaxes when she hears no animosity in Linda's words. They were teasing, light and affectionate.
"I didn't think-"
"You never think, do you girl?"
Susie laughs softly, quietly.
"I guess not."
"Don't worry Susie. Everything will work out."
Susie's hand tightened around the cord.
"I hope so."
"I make my cereal milk-first."
It's an odd thing to say, something that Susie hadn't expected to say herself. Ponyboy looks confused, so she trips over herself to make the exchange less awkward.
"I mean, otherwise my milk to cereal ratio is out of place, you know? If I put the milk in first then I can judge how much cereal to put in."
She fidgets in her seat, trying to ignore the quiet that lingers and focus on finishing her poster, but Ponyboy's quiet laughter brings her attention back to him.
"My brother Soda does that too. I think he got it off Two-bit, but I haven't seen him eat enough cereal to judge that."
Susie giggles breathily, her pencil idly tracing over the cell she had drawn. "I thought I was the only one who did it…"
"Naw, you ain't that special Miss Davis."
The conversation shifted, and although it wasn't as comfortable as it was before, it was almost nice. Susie sits back once she finished the poster, watching Ponyboy write in his lovely handwriting until he was done. He grins and pushes the paper towards her.
"I guess we're done now."
"Yeah," Her heart seizes in her chest. "It was fun doing this with you."
"Yeah," He agrees. He stands and nods. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."
Susie smiles and stands as well. "See you in class tomorrow."
Susie receives a pretty good mark for the assignment (apparently Ponyboy had said she help with the report, even though that was a total lie) and after class she stumbles some kind of thank you.
Ponyboy laughs and gives her a single pat on her head. Maybe he thought that anything else would be too personal. After all, he really didn't want to ignite any feelings again.
He assures her it isn't a problem, and then he leaves.
Susie watches him go silently.
Susie is pleasantly surprised when Ponyboy continues to smile at her in the hallways, and she loves it so much that she smiles back. There's no real communication, but it's fine. She can live with it.
She resolves to tell the biology teacher that her name is Susie.