Don't you hate it when you have what seems like a million other stories to write but one idea simply won't leave your head? I'm writing this one for fun. These characters haven't left my head, and I'm getting them out just so they will leave me alone! :) Enjoy! Please read and review.
The final day before Christmas Break, the 'most wonderful time of the year,' Sodapop Curtis and Steve Randle both nearly froze to death. Two Bit drove his hunk of junk to school, but, fearing the old clunker couldn't make the trip, the two friends opted instead to pick their other companion up on foot. The frigid Tulsa air dropped near thirty degrees, the wind blowing through the boys, mocking them with its giddy torment. Finally, they reached the run-down shack on the edge of the East Side of town. A smile spreading across his face, Soda sprinted up the front stoop and furiously knocked on the door before letting himself in.
"Honey, I'm home," cried Steve, mocking Soda before words could even leave his mouth.
Soda slapped his friend on the chest and looked around the front room. The furniture barely held up, the ceiling leaked and the wallpaper peeled, but he ventured in all of Oklahoma there wasn't a cleaner, more well-kept house. The lady of the home did well to keep it as nice as she could and it didn't do unnoticed.
"Hey, Sparky! Sparky, where are you?" Steve called, running through the house.
He casually looked around, going through her mail, grabbing a root beer from the fridge and a piece of toast from a plate on the kitchen. After stealing the girl's breakfast, he walked toward her room. Soda followed him, rolling his eyes at his friend's antics.
"Sparky, you know that if I come in here and there's a boy in your bed, Soda here'll have your head, right?"
Pushing Steve away from the door, Soda took his place. Using her real name, and not some silly nickname the boys gave her, Soda knocked.
"Lindy Sparks! We're gonna be late for finals if you don't-"
Breathless, Lindy shoved the door open. Having overslept after an all-nighter of studying and sewing, she knew all too well how late she was running. On any usual day, she had breakfast ready for the three of them and was fully dressed by the time Steve and Soda even left their houses.
"Good morning," she chirped.
Lindy ran a hand through her messy hair and picked up her bag from beside the door. Looking up, she saw Soda's companion eating her breakfast.
"Oh. Thanks, Steve," she said, grabbing the half-eaten piece of toast from the boy's mouth with a smile.
She took a large bite from it and sighed contentedly before airily passing the two Greasers. Picking up her
Review cards from the card table that acted as a dining room table, Lindy breezed through the house.
"Looking good today, Sparky," Steve commented as they walked through the screen door.
He wagged his eyebrows, knowing it would only rile Soda up. Indeed, it did. Behind Lindy's back, the Curtis boy shot Steve a look, which he mockingly returned.
But, in spite of the agitation that rose up in him at Steve's comment, Soda hardly found room in himself to disagree. Smiling, he looked at the girl's unusual outfit. Well, unusual for her. She let her hair down, her brown locks flowing to her shoulders; a pair of blue jean capris graced her legs, while a green sweater covered her torso. Soda chuckled as he looked to her feet, which bore a pair of his own hand-me-down black Chucks.
"What's with the look today, Lindy?" he asked, curious at her sudden change of wardrobe.
Generally, the girl wore nothing but old, ill-fitting hand-me-downs and things she made herself. At the boy's reaction, she chuckled self-consciously and she flipped through the pile of review cards in her hands.
"Well, good morning to you too, Sodapop Curtis," she said, rolling her eyes but smiling at him nonetheless.
This was the way things happened. Soda looked lovingly at the girl, she ignored it, oblivious to his affections, and Steve antagonized both of them, praying silently that one day the two would get together and cease the sexual tension. No more perfect trio existed.
"I ain't sayin' anything awful about it. I'm just asking."
Smirking, she looked down at herself and shrugged.
"I don't know, Soda. Found some of Mama's old dungarees in a drawer and sewed them up a bit. I just wanted to try something a little different."
Steve stepped in between them, throwing his arms over the shoulders of his two companions.
"Sparky-pants," he slipped in casually, not caring about the grimace she gave at the new addition to his nickname for her, "You can't be wearing these kinds of clothes to school. Those Soc boys'll be all over you and you know that Soda here will-"
Elbowing Steve so roughly that he doubled over in pain, Soda rolled his eyes.
"What in the Sam Hell-" Steve began, only to be cut off.
Thrusting a stack of review cards in his hands, Lindy closed her eyes. Her feet followed the familiar path of the sidewalk, the route so inscribed in her mind that she walked without even a hand to guide her.
"Call these out," she said.
After a moment of whining that ended in Soda taking the review cards and forcing Lindy to open her eyes as they traveled, the three walked companionably toward their last exam of the fall semester.
Hours later, the three wandered out of the exam. Diligently, Lindy filled in every answer, checking over each one carefully two or three times before turning her papers in. Sodapop answered everyone he knew from reviewing with Lindy. And Steve filled in every answer but three with either, "Elvis Presley" or "Cherry Pez." So, when the period of the examination ended, all three left feeling that they had none their very best.
"Me and Steve here've got work at the DX, but we'll catch you tonight at the house, okay?" Soda said, looking at the girl beside him.
Somewhat disappointed that the boys needed to work on their first day of freedom, Lindy sighed.
"Can I come with you?" she asked, knowing the answer before the words left her lips.
Soda laced an arm around her waist and squeezed lightly.
"I wish," he said, smiling and truly meaning it.
As he usually did, Steve squeezed in between them.
"Gotta have our man time, Sparky-pants."
Weaseling her way out of the boy's grip, she began to wander away from them.
"You want me to walk you home?" Soda asked.
Glancing up at the hall clock, she shook her head. As much as she wanted nothing more than more time with Soda and Steve, her two closest companions, she knew they would be skinned alive if they showed up late to their shift at the DX.
"Nah, you'll be late," she commented over her shoulder, "I'll see you guys at home, then."
Steve and Sodapop gave her their farewells, though Soda did so uneasily. He never liked his girl walking by herself, especially through hostile territory that the walk to and from school went through. So, they turned their way and she turned hers. Dropping her review cards in the nearest trashcan and caught up in the thoughts of the pending holidays, she wrapped her arms around her to protect herself from the chill and began her way to the house. Knowing that her father still slaved away at the barber shop, seeing as the hour only just struck eleven, she wandered toward the Curtis home.
"'Ey, Sparks," a voice called from behind her.
Every inch of her body tensed as the sound of a car driving slowly behind her reached her ears. Slowly, she turned to look at it. A car packed with Socs, music turned down and windows rolled, followed her. Turning to continue to her destination, she refused to turn again, even when they parked the car and called her name.
"Hey, you hood!" a particularly familiar voice called.
She quickened her pace, trying not to run or lose her cool. The footfall behind her merely quickened with her as she ducked into a back alley way.
"C'mon, Sparks."
A meaty paw wrapped itself around her shoulder, spinning her about. Nose-to-nose with a head Soc, named Larry White, she locked her jaw and tried not to cower. Socs crowded around him, looking down their noses at her with arrogant glee.
"What d'ya want, Larry?" she asked, feigning annoyance.
Placing a hand on her thigh, he smirked.
"You can't wear clothes like that and not expect people to not notice."
Using every ounce of strength to twist away from him, her skin crawled at his advances.
"You pig," she muttered, wrenching herself from his grasp.
Effortlessly, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.
"Now, Sparks, let's be honest, you don't want to be a Greaser's girl forever."
He pinned the girl to the building wall. Squirming, she tried in vain to escape his grasp.
"I'm no one's girl, Larry. Let me go."
Finally, she managed to gather the strength to break the bonds his hands created around her wrists.
"We just wanna have some fun, Lindy. I bet those Greasers have plenty of fun with you," he said, using what seemed like every ounce of his force to push her down.
The girl's body skid across the concrete floor of the alleyway. She felt her lip bust and gashes form on her chin. Mentally cursing the Socs, she tried to push herself up.
"I thought the Greasers knew better than letting their girls walk home alone," one Soc said with a triumphant smirk, grabbing her by the waist.
She struggled, trying to release herself.
"Well, they will know by the time we're done here," one said.
Raucous laughter flooded from the Socs.
"Let me go-!" she began.
And then, as if sent from Heaven itself, a police car passed. The blaring siren pulled all the boys back to reality.
"Move it," Larry called, scared out of his mind at being caught by the police.
The Socs took off, not knowing that the cop car actually just sped past them, looking for some kid who stole a Pepsi off of the DX counter. Moments later, Lindy rose from the concrete, placing her hand to her face to assess the damage. Busted lip, cut face, scraped palms.
"Ah, hell," she muttered, looking at the rip created in her recently altered jeans.
With a sigh, she stood to her feet. Praying that she could get cleaned up before Soda got off of work, she began the long trek to his house.
I hope you all enjoyed it! Please review! It means the world to me!