I walk into Buck's and it's like a modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah. Some sort of country two-step is playing, and everyone seems to know how to dance to it. Everyone basically looks the same: the girls in miniskirts and lipstick, the boys wearing jeans and grease-slicked hair. Except for the fact that I'm not carrying a drink, I fit in perfectly.
I only come here as a last resort because to tell you the truth, I can't stand this place. The first floor, anyway. The second floor is where I want to be.
When I get kicked out of my house I usually go to the Curtis's or somewhere public, like the library. Right now though, the library is closed and the Curtis boys are probably asleep. I hate the way Darry looks at me, like I'm a stray puppy begging for sympathy.
Well, I don't need anyone's sympathy. I just need a place to sleep.
Dally's over in the corner with Sylvia. I catch his eye and he nods a small hello. He knows why I'm here.
I climb the stairs and find the right door and as soon as I'm safely inside, I throw off my clothes and get into bed. The bedsprings squeak under my weight.
The noises of this place are depressingly familiar: the distant music, the loud footsteps in the hallway, the brassy drunken voices of the teens and twentysomethings who never seem to leave.
The sky is red because there is a layer of cloud over the city and the light from all the buildings is reflecting off of it. It might start raining. I hate thunderstorms. They scare me.
Dally comes in at midnight and lights a cigarette. He's sitting on a wooden chair in the corner, watching me and smoking. I like knowing he's there. It helps me.
I want to thank him for letting me use his room so I tilt my head to look at him, but he's got his back turned. he's stepping outside of the room. The door closes and I hear a loud click.
He's locking me in.
His footsteps thump down the stairs and disappear into the rabble of voices, and I close my eyes.