Chapter 4: Project for One
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own "The Outsiders" or any of the Curtis' Gang. Sigh. The real owner of "The Outsiders" is my favorite author, the fabulous S.E. Hinton. I also do not make a profit from the stories that I write here on this site.
A/N: If you like it, love it, or even if you hate it, you know what to do. Tell me in a review. I would love it if you favored, followed, and/or if you gave me (a) suggestion(s). Thank you. :)
She had a good day with her friend. Friend; the word is foreign to her. She knows the good won't last for long and the high will soon wear off. The flashbacks come back and she hears his voice. She's losing control. She needs control. So she cuts. It's a routine, it's familiar. She knows what to do, how to hide it. Short sleeves are out of the question.
Ponyboy's POV
"Ponyboy?" A hoarse and stuffy voice asked over the phone. I didn't recognize the voice at first.
"Yeah?" I questioned.
"It's Chrissy. I'm sorry, I can't come today. I'm really sick," she told me, as if it wasn't obvious from her voice.
"It's alright. I'll start on the Star of David today," I assured her.
"I'll work on the Swastika while I'm home. Thanks," she finished.
"No problem, feel better," I said casually to her.
"Thanks. Bye."
I slam the phone down, feeling oddly upset. I had to build this thing on my own now.
It's not her fault for getting sick, I told myself and I knew that I was right.
Feeling glum, I took some old pipe that Darry had in the basement and used them to build the Star of David by making two triangles and gluing them together. I was putting on the first few pieces of paper mâché when Soda and Steve walked in.
"Whatchya making?" Steve asked. Steve walked over and pretended to kick it until I grabbed his foot and twisted it, in which he cursed and stumbled backwards in response.
"Star of David, for history," I explained.
"Where's your lady friend?" Steve asked.
"You mean my partner? She's sick," I told him. Steve nodded.
"Is it my turn to make dinner?" I asked.
"Yeah, but I got it. Keep working on your project before Darry gets home," Soda responded. I thanked him and went back to my project, listening to his and Steve's playful banter.
I finished the paper mâché just in time, as after I turned the fan on in my room to dry it, I heard Soda call me for dinner.
She curls herself in a ball and listens to the storm. The wind howls outside, but all she hears is the thunder. It sounds like his footsteps. Her breathing quickens and she feels the familiar come on. She 'forgot' to take her medicine this morning. She feels silent tears slip down her cheeks.
A/N: Sorry this is short. Suggestion?
Aufenthalt Gold,
~Alee