Wrecked
A/N- Thanks for the responses! And to Chick1966, I put Darry on the note because they were friends as teenagers, and I think that Tommy would refer to him as Darry. That's just what I thought. Anyway, here's the next chapter. Knock yourselves out.
Oh, I change the person's POV because I can't decide which I want to do. I don't plan on doing it often, but I will do it. Lauren's is 3rd person, and Ponyboy's is 1st person. I don't think I'll do 2nd person just yet. Just wanted to tell you guys that.
Chapter 2
Lauren spends the next thirty minutes on the couch, listening to the loud surroundings that she wasn't used to. Her house was always quiet, not like this. The boys rambunctious selves could be heard clearly over the blasting radio and t.v. Two-Bit and Sodapop often tangled with each other, Soda winning because he had never been intoxicated like his oppenent.
Lauren's head jerks up. A loud crash stops the boys' actions. Steve walks in, covered from head to toe in a oily mess. "You . . . owe . . . me," He growls at Soda, teeth clenched and eyes smoldering.
"Woah!" Soda yells over the current argument between Two-Bit and Ponyboy. "What happened to you?"
Steve takes a glob of the black mess and wipes it on Soda. Soda just stands there, grinning mishcheviously. "Someone's car was really messed up, and I have to go back and continue working on the damn thing when I'm done cleanin' up!" He's yelling at Soda, Steve's nose almost touching his.
"Oh, really?" Soda asks, peering at Steve with those innocent eyes. Steve grips his way to the shower.
"I'm gettin' your clothes, Sodapop Curtis!"
Soda laughs and sits on the couch beside Lauren, who is now scarred by the monster she just saw walk through the door. "Don't worry about ol' Steve. He's all bark no bite," He says to her. Lauren nods and goes back to the paper she's drawing on.
Darry comes out of his room. "What's Steve want?" He asks.
Two-Bit looks up from the T.V. "He's mad at Soda 'cause he had to a fix a messed-up car, and now he's dirty." He stumbles, grinning. He takes another swallow of beer. Lauren turns her nose up at the odor.
"Why do you drink that?" She asks Two-Bit, curious to why he drank it, too. She had found lots of similar cans in her fridge at home.
Two-Bit shrugs. "I don't know, kid, but promise me that you won't do it, 'kay?" He holds up his pinky finger.
"'Kay," Lauren whispers, wrapping her small, smooth finger around the young man's dripping, tough one.
Lauren turns around to face the two older brothers in an argument. "You've never had to roof houses before, Soda. Quit complaining." Darry says, sinking into his chair.
"I ain't complainin'! I'm just sayin' that I should be paid more!" Soda fights back, slamming his can on the table, creating a loud clink that silences the room. It seems as if Elvis and Mickey Mouse have quieted down, as Darry looks at the can Soda slammed on the table. "Yeah," Soda says, realizing the mistake he made.
Darry looks at him, shakes his head, and walks to his room.
Lauren looks at the can in Two-Bit's hands, and then she looks at the one on the table. She looks up at Two-Bit. "He should make the promise, too." She whispers.
"He did," Two-Bit says, a little too loudly for a whisper. Soda goes to his room and slams the door. Lauren jerks her head back and blinks from the sound. "He just didn't keep it,"
Darry looks frustrated when he finally comes out of his room after two hours. Soda walked out after thirty minutes of solitude. Two-Bit went home an hour ago, along with Steve, who actually did borrow Soda's clothes. He threatened to borrow Soda's clothes for a whole week. I don't really see what that will do, though.
He comes out and sits on the couch, barely missing the little girl's face on the couch. Lauren fell asleep minutes after Two-Bit left, since the T.V was finally turned down. He looks at Lauren, then up at me, and the girl's face again. "Where's she gonna sleep?" Soda asks Darry.
"I don't know." He answers, shifting her little face from the couch to his lap, stroking her soft, light-brown hair. "What do you think?"
"I think the couch will work." Soda mutters. I've never seen him like this before. He's always been so happy. Why did he have to drink that? I bet Two-Bit talked him into it while he was drunk. Damn Two-Bit.
"We can't leave her on the couch," Darry says.
"Do we have a cot or extra bed or something?" I ask Darry.
"Go look," He instructs me. So I do. I go to the back room and find . . . nothing.
"I guess the couch will have to do," Darry says. He gives Lauren to me because Soda, apparently, already went to bed.
I wonder how old Lauren is. She looks about six years old, but, then again, I used to look the same way until I was about eleven. I sit on the couch, Lauren's legs wrapped around my waist. She breaths lightly, but I notice my shoulder getting wet. I lift her off and see that my red shirt has grown darker, wetter. Lauren's eyes are dripping with tears. She wimpers quietly. I feel so bad just looking at her.
Darry returns with a handful of blankets. "Lay her down, Pony," I lay her soaking face on the couch's pillow. Darry lays a blanket over her and turns the lamp off. "Go to bed," He tells me, heading off to bed himself.
I don't go to my room. I go to Soda's room. He's barely awake, eyes staring at the ceiling, opening and closing. "Soda?" I say.
"Hey, Ponyboy," He says with a small smile. I know then that he's been waiting on me.
I crawl under the sheets and roll over towards Soda. "Soda?" I ask again, lightly shaking him. "Why'd you drink that?"
His eyes open and he rolls over to me. "I don't know," He says. I turn around and look out the window, barely hearing the words I thought moments ago. "Damn Two-Bit,"
Lauren is still asleep as two dark figures loom outside. It's midnight. The clock just struck twelve. The shorter of the two figures stepped off of the porch and ran away. The taller, thicker figure steps through the doorway, flipping on a small light that can't be seen from the hallway. Lauren tosses on her spot on the couch. The man looks at the little girl, an odd, confused expresion on his face. She turns away from the figure and opens her eyes.
She sits up, rubbing her little eyes. She blinks and looks around the room, meeting looks with the hood that walked through the door. She sreams, but so does another person; they start simultaneously.
The figure backs away from the screaming stranger he sees on the couch, successivly knocking over the coffee table and a lamp.
Lauren runs to the kitchen and hides underneath the table.
She listens as the other screams quiets down; a young man's voice is heard shushing the scream. A person walks down the hallway. The person enters the room where the scream was heard. He then walks out to the living room. Lauren tenses up, fearing what will happen to the person.
"Tim?" Says a voice; it's Darry's voice.
"Shoot, man. What's goin' on here?" Says the other voice. Lauren wimpers again, her breathing speeding up from the stranger's-the monster's-voice.
"Huh? Where'd she go?" Darry says. Lauren figures he must've seen the barren couch, littered with the ragged blankets Lauren had used.
"In the kitchen, I think. Who is she?" The stranger asks. Lauren convinces herself that the man isn't here for her-or, rather, her father.
"Long story." The floorboards creak as Darry makes his way to the kitchen. "Lauren," He whispers, trying to sound as calm and compassionate as possible. Lauren crawls onto the floor. She stands up, wiping the dust off her arm. "There you are," He picks Lauren up with one arm, her head leaning on his shoulder.
Tim stood in the living room, arms crossed, ciggarette hanging out of his mouth. A fit, black t-shirt showed off every muscle he possessed. Thick-neck, yet tall and lean, Tim Shepard was a model hood. "What's goin' on? I'm just tryin' to get away from the fuzz, man."
Darry explains. Lauren's head rests on the man's shoulder all the while, her eyes barely open. She stays awake, worried about what the stranger she sees could or would do to her.
"Look, some cops are after me. They think I was drunk drivin'. I ain't been drivin' since they took my car away!" Tim grips.
Lauren yawns and inches her head closer to Darry's neck. Darry lays her on the couch, saying to Tim in a hushed voice, "Well, want do you need from me?"
There's a moment of silence. "Nothing, now," Tim gripes, making his way to the door.
"Tim," Darry says. "Come on, Tim. You need a place to stay, right? Just for tonight?"
Tim sighs, taking a drag on his ciggarette. "And Curly, but you can't do that. Not with everyone else crammed up in here. I'll see ya,"
Something takes over Darry. He looks at the little girl's face, and he sees his own mother. How kind and calm she was, and how she wanted to "live life with no regrets". He looks at Tim, intimidating. "Listen, I'm gone to bed, but if you and Curly need a place to crash, she can go somewhere else." He sounds confused, doing something nice, yet he sounds snappy and frustrated.
Darry walks to his room, the heavy footsteps causing echoes to ripple through the hall. Tim steps in the house. "Curly should be back in a few minutes. Where can I stay?"
When Lauren wakes up, she's curled up in the armchair. Blankets gone, she's shivering uncontrollably. She stretches her arms and looks at the clock, 7:52. She stands up and notices the blankets on the couch, spread out and some even on the floor. She looks around and finds the hallway, knocking on doors and calling, "Hello? Hello?"
When unsuccesful, she resorts to opening the doors. One door opens, revealing an unmade bed. Another is the door to a bathroom. In the next room, another unmade bed appears. This time, there's a boy sitting on the bed, reading.
Lauren walks quietly to the red-headed boy, "Where is everyone?" She whispers, afraid that the silence of the house would be broken if she spoke too loudly.
"Hmm?" Ponyboy asks, looking up from his book. "Oh, they're gone."
"Gone where?" Lauren whines, leaning her back against the bed.
"Work,"
"Oh,"
"Two-Bit's coming over. Tim and Curly had to leave this morning, but I think they're coming with him."
"Okay,"
Lauren speaks quietly and rarely. She's weary and scared, unsure of her father's choice in protection for her. She trusts her father, so she stay with the boys, but her heart pounds when one of them is near. She tenses up, braces herself, because these are the greasers that her aunt and uncle would look down on, call them trash, and tell Lauren to stay away from. Her mother would often argue about the fact. So, she did as her mother and father would tell her to do. She respected them.
Lauren steps outside, sun shining and bright. Ponyboy walks with her to the lot. "Do you go here often?" Lauren asks.
"Yeah. We used to play football here, when everything was easier." Ponyboy leans against the tree, staring at the sun with his eyes closed.
Lauren considers this. She wonders if by "easier" Ponyboy meant when she wasn't there. Did she do this to them? Did Lauren make them frustrated and angry? Should she be mad at herself? "Easier?" She asks, laying on the grass.
"Yeah, when Mom and Dad were here."
She remembers her own mother, how she moved away after Lauren turned eight. She never said where she was going, but she never came back. He father wouldn't tell her either, but his face seemed to grow gloomy when she was mentioned. "Oh,"
"Mom and Dad. They were great. Mom lended me any book I wanted, any time at all. She was friends with a nearby librarian. Dad taught me how to play football. I don't play it much, but I do track. He always said I was a good runner." He sighed happily. "And when Johnny was still here."
Lauren sat up, the wind rushing through her hair. "Johnny? Johnny Cade?"
"Yeah, do you know him?"
"No. Yes, I don't know. I've heard of him before."
"Oh. He died, last year. I've never been so mad at myself. I was held back a year in school,"
There's a long pause. "What's your name?" Lauren asks, suddenly. She was always curious as to what Pony's real name was."
"I told you. Ponyboy."
"No, your real name."
Ponyboy gets a little red in the face. "That is my real name. Ponyboy Michael Curtis."
"Oh," Lauren grows red, too. "Sorry." She looks at the ground for a minute, embarrassed by her question. Then she gets an idea, so she doesn't feel so bad. "Can I call you Michael?"
Ponyboy shrugs. "I guess. Are you gonna call Soda by his middle name, too?"
"I would if I knew it."
Ponyboy smiles. He knows that Soda hates to be refered to by his middle name. "It's Patrick."
She nods. "Okay. What about that weird one? Two-Bit."
"That's just a nickname. His real name is Keith."
"Where'd he get that name?"
"You know how he never shuts up, and how he's always making jokes? He always has to get his two-bits in."
"Clever,"
They sit and look at the clouds for a while, talking, laughing, smiling, and really getting to know each other. They grow on each other, and when they go back to the house, Lauren doesn't feel as uncomfortable.
The whole gang sits around the t.v. Soda looks at Lauren, a smile on his face. "How was your day?" He asks.
Lauren smiles, too. "Just fine. And yours, Patrick?"
A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while. My homework's getting bigger and bigger. Science project due next week, tons of stuff for reading, etc. etc.
Hope you liked it! Review :)
