Edit: 08/09/10
Addiction
2. Windows to the Soul.
No one knows what it's like
to feel these feelings
like I do, and I blame you.
Behind Blue Eyes by Limp Bizkit
"There ya are!"
Ponyboy turned around to see Two-Bit coming towards him and Curly, both of them had just arrived at the movie theatre, one with wide eyes stammering to the other who held a smirk in place as he greeted the older greaser with a small nod.
"Ya vanished on me, kid." Two-bit started with a smoke hanging from his lips that wiggled as he spoke. "I thought ya quit that magic shit when you were eleven." His lips spread around the smoke in a large grin, "Actually worried me just a little." Then, he reached out to ruffle the fourteen year-olds hair.
"Stop that, Two-Bit!" Pony groaned and rolled his eyes as he ducked away, "I had my hair the way I wanted it." Sorta. He pouted, bringing his hands up to fix his hair.
"Fixed into what? A mess?" That comment wasn't from Two-Bit but from Curly who still had that prominent smirk set on his face, Ponyboy turned and glared at the older boy who just laughed, "Told ya earlier it looks like shit."
"No one asked you!" Pony snapped, trying to keep his frown on his face, but failed when Curly nearly caught his hair own on fire with his lighter. "Looks like someone is in need of a haircut."
"Shoot naw!" Curly cried, simultaneously blowing a stubborn piece of hair from his face. "Ain't cuttin' this for nobody."
Shrugging, Ponyboy glanced at his watched and reached into his pocket for some money for his ticket.
"I got a free pass." Two-Bit said with a wink, eyeing the blonde haired ticket clerk sitting in the glass booth.
"How sweet of ya!" Curly exclaimed out of the blue, "Thanks for buyin' mine, Baby Curtis."
Ponyboy rolled his eyes with a sigh but didn't argue – he had enough and really didn't mind.
"Whatcha been up to Curls?" Two-Bit was asking Curly Shepard when Ponyboy returned with both their tickets.
"Alright, tryin' to stay outta' trouble. Believe it or not." The young hood took out another cigarette and lit it cooly, eyeing the crowd of people standing on the sidewalk.
"I choose door number two."
|| Curly – POV ||
I was suppose to meet my brother and the gang somewhere to hit up some gas station on the rich side of town to make a couple quick bucks and cause some trouble for them snotty ass bastards.
Instead I was here in the Curtis family living room with hanging with the youngest of them, just like I use to back when we were little.
I normally would never pass up a time to raise hell for Socs but after running into Ponyboy Curtis, I was fine following him around all day.
"Want anything to drink, Curly?" The kid asked as he got up from the couch.
"Hm," I leaned back in the arm chair he had earlier labeled as his oldest brothers'. "Got some beer?"
He nodded and I watched him disappear into the kitchen.
Ponyboy Curtis was a good kid, too good for his own good. Maybe I would come over more often; his brothers and what was left of their gang didn't seem to be protecting him too good, from what I heard. I'm sure I could do a much better job. Heh, I'm damn sure I know I could.
I snorted at my thoughts. What the hell? These folks are none of my business.
Yet-
"Curly?"
My head snapped up and I was staring into Pony's crazy green-grey eyes. He tilted his head and broke the eye contact after another second holding the long neck beer into my line of sight. Still a chicken. I thought, remembering our little games.
Remembering the smell of burning tobacco and burning skin -I would've won if it wasn't for his older brother finding us.
"Thanks." I took it from his hands the tips of my fingers brushed against his. I ignored the tingle that seems to travel from my hand down to the pit of my stomach.
The kid went back over to the couch his attention on a western movie playing on TV. I wasn't one for movies and stuff, movies were nothing but fantasies. Kids dreamed to be movie stars and shit like that.
I never did.
I could hardly handle one fucking life.
While sipping on my beer my eyes kept wandering over to him and my mind kept bouncing from here to there and who cares where.
I envied him sometimes, especially as kids.
You know, he still had that innocent look in his eyes, that baby shape to his face, his laughter, his perfect fucking family - this I don't remember ever having. But there was something different from the last time I saw him- sadness I guess. This compared to when his folks died it was different.
Yeah, he went through some bad shit with the death of his parents and now Cade and Winston in a short time. Not to sound like a dick but that's nothing compared to some of the shit I've seen and been around.
I'm only a year and a half older than him yet I grew up before I even reached my teens; after my dad left us to run off with some floozy broad.
After mom brought that bastard into our house.
He was just a normal greaser. Not no hood like my folks.
He still had something.
He…
I gulped down the rest of my beer quickly and got up from the chair, placing the empty beer bottle on the coffee table. He looked up at me with those sad innocent eyes and gave me a small smile.
This kid still has happiness in his life.
"Doin' anything tonight?" I asked him, grabbing my leather jacket from the back of the arm chair.
He shook his head, watching me as I went to the door.
I stopped my hand on the handle of the screen door, staring through the mesh out to their front lawn. I didn't make anymore eye contact with him, that innocent curious look was starting to piss me off.
"Ya wan' to go to the drive in or somethin'?" I preferred it over the movie house. There was more trouble to get into.
"I'm not sure, I have to ask Darry."
Oh yea, I forgot his brothers actually cared where he went. He actually needs permission first before he could do something. I couldn't hold back my laugh when a mental image of how Tim would react if I actually asked to go some place passed through my mind.
"I'll swing by tonight then."
I opened the screen and left not hearing him if he said anything else.
I had to escape those eyes.
The eyes are the windows to the soul or some shit like that. The kid must have a nice soul.
Green eyes with a little bit of grey.
Wide, dreamy, innocent and curious eyes - him.
I stopped to kick a large piece of broken concert from the curb towards a car parked across the street; it hit with a loud crash as a window broke and the dogs in the area started barking - I couldn't stop the grin that wanted out.
I wanted those eyes.
To be continued