I'm so glad people are enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it, I have the next few chapters all planned out so I should update pretty regularly.
Enjoy!
After a couple of weeks I finally managed to settle, falling into more of a routine. I grew even closer to the girls, so much so that my social status changed quite drastically. It sounded vain to say it, but I had gotten pretty high on the social pyramid. And, in turn, I had fallen into the soc category. It had taken me a while to become accustomed to this, and I was still getting used to it. Admittedly, I kind of liked it. Despite my previous feelings concerning the social hierarchy of Tulsa, I was just glad I was accepted and liked. Sure, I'd had friends in Boston, but I hadn't exactly been Miss. Popular.
Although I had this new social status, I still continued to speak to Ponyboy in English. Peggy had told me we 'didn't socialise with greasers', but screw The Rules, right? I liked talking to Ponyboy, even though he became more nervous the higher up the social ladder I climbed. Unfazed, I continued to be friendly and these days he seemed more at ease around me.
We were currently studying The Great Gatsby, one of my favourite books. Mr. Warren had us doing character analysis and discussing our thoughts with the person sitting next to us.
"All he cares 'bout is money," Ponyboy said firmly. We had started our discussion with the titular character of the book.
"Well, he cares about Daisy, too," I countered. Typical girl response, I know.
"He cares that she's rich," Ponyboy argued. "He only wants money so she'll like him."
"Well, yeah, because he thinks he's not good enough for her without it. He lies about himself because he thinks she won't like who he really is."
"Why would he wanna be with someone who don't like him the way he is?"
"He fell in love with her luxury. He assumed it's what she'd like in return."
Ponyboy sat back, quiet for a few minutes. "I think he's a moron," he blurted, prompting me to burst out laughing.
"Yeah, me too."
Ponyboy left the room a few paces ahead of me when the bell rang. We may have gotten along in class, but we both knew it would be highly strange to be seen walking together in the hall. However, this turned out not to be the problem.
He stopped at his locker just ahead of me and I swiftly caught sight of the three socs heading in his direction. Many socs I had met (thanks to Nancy and Cynthia introducing me to near enough everyone in the entire school) had been friendly enough, to me anyway. I knew how cruel they could be to greasers, and I knew how cruel greasers could be to them in return. But this was Ponyboy. Sweet, young, pure Ponyboy. I didn't doubt that he could defend himself, I had seen it in his face myself. Nevertheless this was three against one. They were all a lot bigger than him. I couldn't stand to see the way they were picking on him, I couldn't bring myself to walk by as if I hadn't even seen anything.
"Come on, guys," I said, standing beside Ponyboy determinedly. "Cut it out, huh?"
The three guys laughed, one of them eyeing me up and down. He would have been quite good-looking had he not looked so mean in that moment. "Can you believe this chick?" He asked his friends, glancing at them.
"Listen, doll-face," one of the others began. I instantly bristled at this name. "This ain't none of your business."
I stood my ground, giving them the most threatening glare I could muster. "He's just a kid," I spat. "You compensating for something?"
By now a small crowd had gathered, murmuring amongst themselves. The first guy that had spoken took a step forward, looking even meaner now. "Look, honey—"
"Will you stop talking down to me like I'm a damn incompetent six year old?"
He looked bewildered for a second, quickly covering it up with a chuckle. "It's a good thing you're cute," he said. "And you got good friends." I glanced over my shoulder as he and his friends left, seeing Cynthia and Nancy in the crowd.
"You didn't have to do that," Ponyboy said quietly. The crowd began to disperse, losing interested.
"Sure, I didn't," I answered, shooting him a sweet smile. "Sorry if I embarrassed you, by the way."
I set off towards my next class, Cynthia and Nancy appearing on each side of me moments later. "What the hell, Rox?" Cynthia questioned, appalled. Now, she was someone I did expect to curse every now and then. Peggy, on the other hand, was a regular potty-mouth.
"What?" I replied nonchalantly.
"Why'd you do that?" Cynthia asked.
"Look, I just like the kid, alright?" I told her. "I didn't like the way they were treating him."
"Well, I think it was boss," Nancy chirped.
Cynthia rolled her eyes. "Whatever. See y'all at lunch."
If it hadn't been for me defending Ponyboy, I never would have met Two-Bit Mathews.
I had been zoning out in history class for at least fifteen minutes, when I heard a psst! coming from behind me. I blinked back to reality, glancing around in confusion. It came again a moment later, followed by, "Hey, blondie."
I spun around with an eyebrow raised questioningly. I had never looked at the guy who sat behind me properly before, but looking at him now I saw that he had these sideburns that really needed shaving. He contemplated me for a minute, as if he couldn't quite figure me out. "You're that Roxanne chick, right?" He asked at last.
"That would be me," I answered slowly, wondering where this was going.
"You hang 'round with Peggy Richardson an' them?"
"Is this going somewhere?"
He sat back, narrowing his eyes. "Just tryna work out why a gal like you would do what you just did." I blinked again, silently willing him to elaborate. "See, Pony's a buddy of mine. He's a greaser, you dig? I just don't see why a soc would stand up to other socs for a greaser."
"Because," I began, sending him the same contemplative look he was giving me. "He's sort of my buddy, too. Believe it or not, not all of us like to see you guys fighting all the time."
I turned back, glad that Mr. Thompson was still immersed in his lecture and hadn't noticed us speaking. After five minutes, the back of my seat was being kicked repeatedly. I tried so hard to ignore it. "What?" I hissed when it became too much, whipping around to face the guy behind me again.
"Y'know, I think I've seen you somewhere before," he said thoughtfully, balancing on the back two legs of his chair. Uh, was he being serious or was he trying to hit on me?
"Probably in this class," I answered, deadpan.
"Naw, that ain't it." He studied me as I stared, unamused, back at him. He almost fell out of his seat when he eventually got to whatever conclusion he was aiming for. He gave a loud laugh and I quickly faced forward again, putting on my most innocent expression when Mr. Thompson paused and glanced over.
"Find something amusing, Mr. Mathews?" He questioned.
"That's a heavy question for me, sir," the guy sitting behind me answered back, casual as anything. Mr. Thompson sent him a warning look, before resuming his teaching. I turned back around slowly, curious as to where this guy remembered me from. He grinned at me. "You're that gal from the carnival! The one in the red dress Soda ran into."
I flushed at his realisation. I had forgotten other people except Sodapop had been there that night. "That must be it," I replied, managing to sound snarky.
He chuckled, more than likely at the memory of me falling over. As I faced the front of the class again, I heard him mutter, "You dig okay, blondie." I supposed, sort of, that this was a long-winded way of him thanking me for defending Ponyboy. "An' you look real good in red, by the way." I rolled my eyes, leaning my head on my propped-up hand.
"What was that all about?" Nancy inquired as we headed to the cafeteria for lunch. "What did Two-Bit Mathews have to say that was so important?" Two-Bit? Would every greaser I meet have a funky name? This one sounded like more of a nickname, but you could never be sure after meeting people named Ponyboy and Sodapop.
I shrugged, looping my arm through Nancy's. "He was just surprised I stood up for that kid earlier, seeing as I'm a soc and he's a greaser."
On Friday we were all over at Cherry's house for the night. I had never had a girly slumber party in my life, where you talk about boys and do each other's hair. The real thing turned out to be pretty much what I had been expecting. Cherry and Marcia spoke fondly of their boyfriends, Bob Sheldon and Randy Anderson, respectively. Socs, too, naturally. The rest of us discussed boys we found cute.
"I'm thinkin' of tryin' out for the cheerleadin' squad," Cherry announced when the conversation moved on from boys. Cynthia was currently sitting behind me, messing with my hair, attempting to get it into as many different styles as possible.
"Of course you are," she snorted. "And you'll make it."
"Ain't you gonna try, Cynth?" Marcia asked. "You'd be real good."
"Gymnastics takes up too much time already," she replied.
"I might try out," Peggy spoke up. "I need somethin' new to do, I'm bored."
Nancy turned to me, grinning. "What about you, Rox?"
"Me? Cheerleading? I don't think so," I said.
"Why not?" Cherry asked. "I think you'd be great. So long as you don't start any fights."
The others giggled at this. The tale of me standing up for Ponyboy had spread to them fairly quickly. "It was hardly a fight," I shot back, grinning nonetheless. "Anyway, why should I try out for the cheerleading squad? Give me one good reason."
There was a short pause as they thought. "Cute boys?" Cynthia offered and we all burst into fits of giggles again. The conversation was back onto boys.
"Speakin' of which," Cherry then said, smirking over at me in a way that made me a little nervous. "Bob told me one of his friends finds you real pretty, Rox. He might even ask you on a date."
My face dropped, along with my stomach. "Which friend?" I asked, trying to sound intrigued. Which I was, but not for the reason they thought.
"Daniel Miller."
There were plenty of nice-looking boys I saw around school, and Daniel Miller was one of them. But I found myself not remotely interested in any of them romantically, going on a date with any of them was my idea of a complete nightmare. My single friends were obsessed with the idea of dating, and that was where I differed from them. To them, it was like the most important thing in the world; get a nice boyfriend who could show you off.
"Ah. See, I'm not really up for dating right now," I explained, trying to sound modest. "Tell him I'm flattered but I'm not interested."
"Betcha you would be if it was Sodapop," Peggy muttered, but we all heard. Everyone looked at me at once and heat rose in my cheeks.
"Well, yeah, because he's gorgeous," I said, trying to be blasé. "Who wouldn't turn down a date with him?" Yes, dating wasn't a big deal to me, but I knew for a fact that if it was Sodapop asking me on one, I probably wouldn't be able to turn him down.
"Oh, Rox. You're not still hung up on him, are you?" Cherry asked. Wait, 'still'? When was I ever?
"What? I've never been 'hung up' on him," I answered, laughing slightly so I didn't sound too offended. "I'm just not interested in Daniel Miller."
Saying this didn't really help at all, to be honest. Sometimes I wished I just kept my mouth shut.
I know I promised exciting things and this is probably where they start. And Soda will be making an appearance again soon ;-)
If you are enjoying this, I would love some feedback!
