One more lap.
That was the mantra I had taken to repeating in my head everytime my feet smacked against the pavement of the track. Just one more lap and Coach Hinton will let us leave. Just one more lap.
It was seven-thirty by the time we were allowed to leave. The sun had long since set and our breathing hadn't been regular for the past half hour. Every one of us was doubled over, hands braced against our knees, and panting. Coach Hinton looked the group of us over, seemingly inspecting us, before speaking.
"Tomorrow, you better not be screwing around. If practice goes anything like it did today than more than one of you will be benched next meet. Dismissed."
We all somehow managed to drag ourselves to the locker rooms and change from sweaty track suits to our normal attire. The four showers were constantly running as each of us took our turn. Rather than push and shove to get to the front I waited. While we were seen as equals during practice, after I was nothing more than a greaser. Then again it's not like I expected anything more.
By the time I stepped from the locker room, freshly showered and ready to brace the late fall air on the run home, everyone but Coach Hinton had left. I appreciated the fact that he, unlike others, stayed to make sure everyone was alright getting home. Like most of my teachers he understood the divide between greasers and socs. While he did nothing to actively push us together, he did keep the others from picking on me too much during practice.
"Curtis, you got a ride home?"
"Yes Sir, shouldn't be too long before Two-Bit gets here. You can go on home, I don't mind waitin' alone." I could tell Coach Hinton was apprehensive about leaving a high schooler alone, even for the short amount of time waiting for a ride. "I'll be okay." I said, hoping he'd catch the hidden meaning behind the words.
It seemed he did because he nodded and grabbed his bag.
"See you tomorrow kid, keep up the good work and don't run yourself too hard."
With those parting words Coach Hinton walked away towards the teachers lot. I waited until I saw him pull away in his car before beginning the walk home. I felt bad for lying about the ride, but I didn't need to inconvenience him. I had my switchblade, I felt safe enough. Most of the socs were going to be at a party on their side of town tonight anyways, I would be fine.
I occupied my mind with thoughts of the night. Darry hadn't been able to pick me up from practice because he was working late. I know he tries to keep it from Soda and I, but the stress of having to look after us all the time was starting to get to him. We tried to make it easy, but sometimes it was hard when one of us got sick and needed something.
Soda and Steve were on a double date with Evie and Sandy. Had I not had practice Soda would have offered to take me along and I might have accepted, if only to aggravate Steve a little.
Two-Bit, my typical ride for nights like this, said something about having to babysit his little sister. I didn't believe that one bit. A girl a couple of years older than me, a middle class girl, had been talking about how the two of them had a date during lunch.
Johnny, while my closest friend in the gang, would have been no good walking home with me. He still got spooked by everything since his jumping a couple of months back. If the time came that a soc did try to confront him I'm not sure what he would do or how he would take it.
Dally might have walked me home, or even picked me up in a car he probably shouldn't have. But he hasn't been in the best of moods lately and I didn't want to push my luck with him. He may have warmed up to me, but Johnny was still the only one he really cared about.
Truthfully, I should have gotten a ride home from Coach Hinton. He told me if I ever needed one he'd be happy to oblige, but I didn't want him going out of his way to my side of town. It was better he stay on the upper class side. Less dangerous.
Ten more minutes.
Being halfway home helped ease the thoughts. I had made it to greaser territory.
I was kicking a rock along the sidewalk when I heard it. The sound of laughter and a revving engine.
Perfect, I thought. Exactly what I needed to end this night.
I kept my head held low. Maybe, if I was lucky enough, they wouldn't notice. Even if they did there was the chance the lack of grease in my hair would throw them off. Never before had I been so happy to have it falling in my face.
I could smell alcohol the closer I got. The distinctive scent which burned my nostrils. I could feel myself gag just thinking about the putrid drink. How people found enjoyment from it I had yet to understand myself. The few times I had tried it all ended before I even felt anything.
"Well well well, is that what I think it is?"
"A little grease, walking all by their lonesome."
"Hey greaser, why don't you come over here?"
I ignored the three of them and kept walking. My hand instinctively went to my pocket where the switchblade was kept. I gripped the knife in my hand, ready to bring it out.
"Lighten up little grease, we only want to have some fun."
A fourth one stood in front of me. I cursed myself for not noticing him sooner. He had a flask in his hand, obviously drunk, but it wasn't the flask I cared about. My eyes focused on his fingers. Two rings.
I thought back to Johnny that day we found him in the park. He was shaking and crying, terrified of what could have happened to him.
I tightened my grip on the knife.
"You're on the wrong side of town." I said, trying to sound menacing like Curly Shepard had taught me. "I suggest leaving if you don't want any trouble."
The soc laughed and pat me on the head. I jerked away which only made him laugh harder.
"You hear the kid, Randy? He thinks we should leave if we don't want any trouble."
One of the socs laughed. I figured that was the 'Randy' this guy had mentioned.
The red-haired soc leaned down so we were face to face. I recoiled at his breath which stunk of alcohol.
"Listen here little grease, we aren't leaving, not quite yet. We want to have a little fun and you're the first idiot we've seen walking by themselves."
This was it. I flung my knife opened and slashed at him. I didn't wait to see if I hit him, I turned and ran. Sure, it was back to where I had come from but anywhere was better than here.
There was some yelling and footsteps following. Multiple footsteps. The guys friends had begun to chase me. I counted two sets, meaning that one had stayed behind. Vaguely I could hear them asking if the red-haired guy was okay. If the angry growl was anything to go by I'd say yes.
I wasn't prepared for the hand that reached out and grabbed the back of my hoodie. I was yanked back. The disbalance between me and my track bag caused me to topple over onto the soc holding my hoodie. I scrambled to get back up but was met with a foot kicking me down again.
Had I not spent the previous evening running lap after lap in track I should have been able to get out of this situation relatively easily, but the exhaustion was hitting my body. I struggled the best I could before giving up. There wasn't anything I could do in this situation.
"Little greaser needs to lighten up." The red haired soc had straddled me, effecting pinning me to the pavement. I could see a cut running down his cheek and despite the situation, couldn't help but grin proudly. He'd have a scar just like Johnny. "Good thing I know just what he needs."
The flask was open and pouring on my face before I could protest. The alcohol burned as it forced it's way down my throat. I clenched my eyes shut in an effort to prevent any permanent eye damage.
"Give me another."
I didn't see who gave it to him, I only knew that he had another and was repeating the painful process.
"Damn greasers think they're so great because they haven't a care in the world, well guess what? I'm going to make an example, starting with you."
The alcohol stopped flowing.
Had it not been for his words I would have hoped my torture was over.
I felt a blade being held to my throat.
/AN: I cringed re-reading the original. I t was so bad and written by seventh grade me. Now that I'm a senior I feel the need to rewrite it. Also is weird after using AO3 for so long.