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When Ponyboy and I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, all we could think about was Paul Newman and a ride home.
"I'm sorry to break it to ya, Pony, but that movie sucked ass!" I exclaimed, turning around to walk backwards in front of him. I liked to mess with Pony a lot; he was like a brother to me. He, Darry, and Soda practically took me in. They gave Johnny and me a place to stay when we needed to, although Johnny didn't take that opportunity very often. I can't say that I didn't, though.
"Shut your trap, Jessie. You ain't gotta rub it in." Pony took a cigarette from his half-empty carton. He handed me one, too. "Gotta light?"
I reached into my front pocket, pulling out nothing, doing the same to the other side. "Shit," I muttered to myself, stopping in my tracks. I reached into both of my back pockets, without any luck. The only thing I pulled out was my 6-inch switchblade, but I quickly replaced it. I didn't want Pony to know that I had it. He would tell Darry and then I would get ratted out. "Sorry, Ponyboy, I must've dropped it somewhere." I said, throwing my cigarette down onto the cement, Pony doing the same.
"Get back, Jessie," Pony whispered to me as a red Corvair pulled up on the curb next to us. Five Socs got out, surrounding us. Johnny and I didn't know much about what the Socs that jumped us looked like, all we knew was that they were drunk out of their minds and that one of them was wearing a couple of rings.
The Socs were the rich kids, the big shots, whatever you want to call them. They had it made, nice houses, tuff cars, and a good spot in the social-circle. We greasers, on the other hand, didn't. We live in worn-down neighborhoods, we walked or hitchhiked or took the bus everywhere, and we had the lowest rank possible in society. Nobody ever trusted us, and if there was ever a problem in our town, everybody "knew" where to turn.
"Need some haircuts, greasers?" The boy wearing the rings said as he pulled out a switchblade that looked identical to me and Johnny's switchblades. He handed it to his friend, who gladly took it. I put my head down, letting my long, brown hair cover my scarred left cheek. Like I said, one of the guys who jumped Johnny and me was wearing a few rings, and man, can those things leave some nasty scars. We were only jumped about a month ago, so my scar still looked pretty disgusting. It was about three inches long and went diagonally down from the corner of my eye to the middle of my cheek.
Ponyboy finally spoke up after what felt like an eternity. "No!" It was a simple answer, but hey, what else was he supposed to say?
The Socs advanced towards us, the one in front cussing us out in a low, intimidating voice. The same low, intimidating voice that now has Johnny afraid of his own shadow.
Johnny's my twin brother, only older than me by three minutes. Well, when Johnny and I were five, our parents just stopped worrying about us. Just like that. They fought a lot, too. And they hit Johnny and I, sometimes they beat us with two by fours. One night, our parents had gotten in a particularly nasty fight, so Johnny and I beat it out of there before they could bring us into it. It was late at night, so we decided we would sleep out in the vacant lot and go to Pony's in the morning. Well not long after we got there, four Socs pulled up in a blue Mustang, drunk as can be. Two of them beat Johnny up while the other two… let's just say they did some dirty things to me without my consent. Then, afterwards, they beat me up. But the threats were what really got to Johnny. The threats were what made him scared of his own shadow. Sure, the beating was pretty bad, but the threats were like the icing on the cake. I didn't need the threats to scare me half-to-death, the beating had already did that for me. That's the difference between me and Johnny, he could handle a beating, and I couldn't. The threats made that night ten times worse for me, though, and I didn't know that was possible until it happened. Neither of us was able to brush off the threats they told us. Those threats stuck in our minds no matter where we were or who we were with. That was what really broke Johnny.
Ponyboy and I backed away, only to run into the two Socs behind us. We were down in two seconds flat. To my luck, the boys with the rings sat on my chest, his knees pinning my elbows down. Let me say just one thing: that hurt like shit. The driver of the Corvair had Pony pinned down the same way, with a knife to his throat. The boy on my chest quickly noticed my cheek, and a wide smirk made its way onto his face. I knew that smirk. That was the smirk that played on his face just minutes before he touched me. "DARRY, SODA, STEVE, TWO-BIT! ANYBODY, PLEASE, HELP!" I shrieked at the top of my lungs, Pony doing the same. The boy slugged me a few times, in an attempt to shut me up. I was wriggling around so much underneath him that my blade slipped from my back pocket going straight into the boy's view. He took notice to that pretty quickly, too.
"Well, what do we have here, huh?" He said, slipping the blade into his own back pocket. "We don't want you to fight back, now do we, sweet cheeks?" He laughed menacingly, slugging me a few more times in the face, his rings catching hold of my bottom lip. I screamed once more for Darry and Soda when I heard pounding footsteps on the cement and shouts coming from down the road. The Socs heard it, too, because they beat it out of there so fast. Darry ran straight over to Ponyboy, not noticing me, and Sodapop skidded to a stop in front of me.
"Jessie! Are you okay? You don't look so hot, what did they do to you?" Soda bombarded me with questions, his hand on my shoulder as he squatted down in front of me.
"Soda, I'm fine! He just punched me a few times and stole my blade, that's all. No biggie."
"You had a blade on you, Jesslynn? Are you out of your mind?" Darry asked, walking over to me. I stood up shakily.
"Yes, Darry, I had a blade. How else would I protect myself?" I snapped. I wasn't really in the mood for Darry to be reaming on me.
"You could have asked Steve or Two-Bit, or Sodapop or Dally, any one of us would have came with you." I shook my head wearily.
"Dally can't stand me, and you can't either so shut your mouth Darry!" I shouted as I ran towards my home, hoping to God that my parents weren't fighting.
Two-Bit stopped me before I could get very far, though. "He, slow down there, kid, you just got jumped. If we couldn't catch up to those bastards, neither could you." He chuckled along with Steve. "Where ya heading, Jessie? Are ya hurt? They didn't do anything bad to you, did they? "
"Home, and no, Two-Bit, they just hit me a few times, and stole my switch. I'm fine. Honestly," I said hugging him. I felt hot tears roll down my cheeks as I buried my face deeper into his jacket. He held met tight as I cried some more. I knew it was the same boys who had jumped me and Johnny, and Two-Bit seemed to know, too.
"That guy was wearing rings, huh? You gotta big ass cut on your lip." I nodded my head from inside his jacket, still crying silently.
After a while, Dally spoke up. I honestly didn't even know he was there, I thought he was still in prison. "It was those same guys who got you and Johnny, huh?" I nodded my head again. They were just in a different car with a different driver, that's all. Same people who jumped me and Johnny.