Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.
Those Perfectly Arranged Swirls
He wasn't here. He had joined the War to stay beside his best friend. He had chosen him over me. It made sense. Family came before any other bond and Sodapop and Steve were practically brothers. It still hurt knowing he left me in this town alone. I had dreams of us getting married and having a family someday, but my dreams were now full of nightmares. Ones full of getting my Steve back in a coffin.
"You're with Steve, ya' know," Ponyboy said to me after I had earned myself a free drink through flirting with the guy sitting beside me.
"Steve ain't here, kid," I replied nonchalantly and looked around for a guy to spend the night with while sipping my drink.
"That shouldn't matter. He's still alive, and that means you're still with him," Pony said.
"He's alive alright…for now," I replied and hopped off the stool after finding the perfect guy.
Dark brown hair. Light brown eyes. Slightly tanned-skin. Greasy hair. A hard-set jaw.
He wasn't perfect exactly, but he was close enough.
I danced with him for awhile amidst the sweaty, moving bodies in the congested interior of Buck's. After running my hands through his hair and not finding perfectly arranged swirls, I left him.
Every guy after him I left. I always found a fault or something I disliked. Some lacked the right color of light brown eyes I adored. None of them had the perfectly arranged swirls. I grew bored of those without a temper.
Pony watched me walk away from guy after guy. I sometimes found him smiling. Other times, I saw him shaking his head disappointedly. Nearing closer to the time of Steve and Soda's return, he seemed to have more control over his views being shown to me and I found him devoid of any emotion. Eventua lly, I never saw him at all.
Then, Sodapop's funeral was sadly arranged. Two-Bit, Ponyboy, Darry, and Steve attended as well as many other people that were acquainted with Sodapop. My tears dampened Steve's shirt, but he only wrapped his arms around me tighter. His jaw was tight the whole time and sometimes he pressed his face into my neck for comfort. I would wrap my arms around him tighter in those moments.
In the backseat of his car, things got heated. I noticed scars running down Steve's arms, but his kisses began to distract me and I forgot about them. I didn't see much of him after that day.
Then, I found out why.
He had chosen the needle over me. It didn't make sense. I raged into his apartment through the door he left unlocked and found him sleeping in his bed. I watched him for awhile. He looked peaceful, young, and like the Steve I knew back when we were fifteen. I began yelling. He might've come back, but I was still alone. He still wasn't here. He was off killing himself. After my hollering, I was in tears.
"Eve, you didn't go there. You don't know what it was like. How much it haunts you," he said hoarsely while I sobbed.
"You don't know what it's like waitin' here alone wonderin' if your boyfriend is comin' back alive!" I yelled.
"Evie, please just leave…" he pleaded.
"For you can fuck around with that needle? Fine, I'll leave, but I ain't coming back and you're not hearin' from me again," I said. I took one last look at his worn-out looking body and the dark room we were present in and left.
Twirling a glass of whiskey a few weeks later, Pony sat down beside me at the bar.
"Whaddaya want now?"I asked him harshly.
Oh Lord, help me¸ I thought as the boy smirked. I wondered if he had broken any hearts at his age of sixteen with that smirk. That smirk brought back memories of high school, of Steve and his own trademark smirk. I couldn't stand it and was about to get up until Pony said, "I want to know why you gave up on him like that."
"He chose a needle over his girlfriend."
"He needs you. It doesn't matter if he left you. He's back and you left him… at the worst timing,too," Pony said and then proceeded to ask the bartender for a glass of Pepsi.
"Why can't you help him?" I asked.
"'Cause I'm the annoying little brother of his dead best friend. Word for word outta his mouth by the way," he replied. I turned to look at him, but as he said, "Word for word outta his mouth by the way," the resemblance between him and Soda made me look away.
"How are you dealing with it?" I asked him.
"Better than how I was with Dally and Johnny," he said. His jaw became tight and his hands tightened around his glass. I was still standing up and I started to take a few steps back. Looking at him one more time, I wondered about when he grew up. He seemed so much older than sixteen. Life had been too rough on him. In a way though, he was still kind of innocent.
"See ya' around, Ponyboy," I said loud enough (I hoped) for him to hear as I left.
When Steve opened the door, I pounced on him. My arms wrapped around him and he faltered back a few steps before grabbing a hold of me properly. I decided I'd be there for him. He wasn't going to kill himself. He was going to stay here with me. I wanted the dreams of us getting married and having a family someday back. Or at least, I wanted my Steve back.
"What the-"he began saying, but I slapped him before he could finish. He was furious, but I loved his temper. His dark brown hair. His light brown eyes. His slightly tanned-skin. His greasy hair. His hard-set jaw. He was perfect.
I frowned while I ran my fingers through his hair. There were no perfectly arranged swirls.
For some unfathomable reason, I didn't care.
[A/N]Hope you liked it and please tell me what you thought.