I watched my brother. I watched as he slept, as his eyebrows furrowed when he felt an ache or pain. He was bruised and bloody, his normally composed hair a complete mess. It felt weird to me to see him like this. He hated me coming in his room. He was usually pretty nice to me and we got along pretty well, but we had drifted apart. He was getting ready to go to college and I was still in high school. When he was around his friends, he could be really mean.
"He's just trying to impress them. He loves you," my dad would console me as I whined about it, which happened often. But when his friends weren't around, he was protective of me. That was something that never wavered. I am socially aware and conscious of stuck up behavior. Charlie isn't. He could be a really good guy when he wanted to be, but he treated girls like all Socs do. He wasn't the nicest to greasers, either. But that never bothered me until now. He knew what they were like, so he wouldn't let me near them. I always thought that Charlie was torn between being the person that he was and being the person that he wanted to be. He could suppress that with parties and jumping greasers and the like. But I'm not supposed to know this. Like I said, my dad tries to raise us with a sense of morality.
I heard a faint knock on the open door behind me. My dad was there, indicating his presence in order to not startle me. It had been an eventful night for my family. My mother was in the other room, shouting at the police officer on the end of the phone. I stood up and walked to my dad, who embraced me with arms that made me feel safer and less sad. He kissed me on my head. "You should get some sleep," he whispered, trying not to wake Charlie. "He won't be up for a while." I nodded and walked to my room across the hall.
I sat on my bed, dishelved and emotionally distraught. I looked at the clock. 8:34 a.m. I had to get ready for my tea date soon. I scoffed. Tea. Tea. How pitifully boring. I'd be surprised if anyone could force me go to that now. I would put up a fight. I would throw a fit. Petty, maybe, but I would rather drag myself to the ends of the earth than sit in a room that felt like a funeral parlor and be poked and prodded by old ladies. I felt so different - a completely different person from who I was at 6:03 last night. I felt smarter, but completely clueless. I felt confident and sure of myself but didn't know who I was anymore. I was a Soc, but I didn't want to be. I sympathized with the greasers and Soda's family. But I hated their guts. And I couldn't stomach the thought of seeing anyone right now. Even Sodapop. Especially Sodapop.
I shoved the dress I was supposed to wear today - a frilly, pink and mint green dress that a pokey little girl would wear; a really horrid article of clothing that I assumed was from my mother's childhood - in the back of my closet and pulled out a skirt and casual shirt. I brushed my hair and threw some shoes on. I raced down the stairs, where my mother and father were drinking coffee and talking amongst themselves. When I walked into the kitchen, my mother turned around and her eyes widened.
"Avery, where on earth do you think you're going? Your date with Michael is in a few hours and we need to-"
"I can't go to that. I won't. I don't want to," I said, looking down at my feet. Arguments with my mom were few and far between. When they happened, I usually ended up crying and apologizing. I couldn't this time.
"I have put a lot of time into this. I had to plan and-"
"Bev, let her just-" my dad cut in.
"No!" she shouted as much as she could allow herself to lose her cool. She wasn't naturally composed. She was always on-end and had to suppress her natural anger when things were even slightly off-kilter. For her to lose her temper was rare. "That girl who came home last night was not my daughter and I am not going to let her run out of the house without knowing where she is going and why. I am not letting her go."
My dad raised his eyebrows at me, as a way of saying, "Go ahead. Explain yourself."
I sighed. "Sodapop's house." My dad nodded in approval. He was the more lenient of the two; for which I was thankful.
"You mean the Curtis household?" my mother asked, appalled. "You will not go over to that side of town. Not now, not ever. Not after-"
"I can take you," my father said. My mother gave him an incredulous look, but he didn't look back. She had a way of making you know exactly how she felt and induce guilt within you, even if you didn't feel guilty. So he grabbed his keys and we walked out of the front door. Whatever feelings of animosity she felt towards me would be settled when I got home. I could deal with that.
The ride to Sodapop's was quiet. "Do you want me to go in with you?" my dad asked when he pulled in front of the frontyard, which was mostly dirt and dead grass. I shook my head slowly and got out of the car. I didn't know exactly what would go on when I approached Sodapop, and definitely didn't want my father there to pick up the remnants. He agreed to wait for me outside.
I knocked on the door gently. I figured that because it was early, not many people would be awake. To my surprise, when the door opened, the house was as lively as if it never calmed down from the night before with the gang running back and forth. I couldn't spot Sodapop, though. Darry had answered the door, and seemed genuinely confused by my presence. I figured that Sodapop had informed him on my explosion the night before. I smiled and asked where Sodapop was. He raised his eyebrows skeptically, but probably chalked it up to a love-sick girl wanting to make ammends, so he directed me to his and Pony's bedroom and let me go in. Ponyboy wasn't there, but Sodapop was asleep in the bed. I shook him awake awkwardly, and he immediately came to. I closed the door behind me.
"Avery, what are you doing here?" Sodapop asked.
"I wanted to apologize about yesterday," I tried to lie. It didn't sound too convincing.
He rubbed his eyes and messed with his hair. "No, you're not. Why are you really here?"
"Because I wanted to ask about my older brother." I kept it short. Unassuming. I didn't want him to think that I was putting blame on him, but figured that with Dally and Two-Bit that he would have information. And I was grappling for anything that I could get.
"Your older brother? What's his name..." he trailed off.
"Charlie?"
"Charlie. Yeah. What about him?" he asked.
"He was jumped last night. By a gang of kids. He-"
"By greasers?" he interrupted blatantly.
"We don't know who. I was just wondering if-"
"If I had any information about it? No, I don't. Didn't hear a thing," he said.
"For some reason I don't believe you," I said skeptically. Maybe it was how quickly he spoke or how out-of-character his quick clarifications were, but it didn't seem like he was giving me the whole truth. Maybe not to hurt me or maybe to hide something from me, but certainly irritating nonetheless.
He put his hands up in hopelessness. "I don't know what to tell you then. I'm the wrong person to ask."
"Look, I know I upset you yesterday... I can't pinpoint my feelings when someone puts me on the spot. You can't expect me to make such definitive decisions. I was upset. Confused. I still am. But that's not the issue here," I tried to explain. I wasn't good at admitting my faults. It usually came out awkward and cheesy. But I could see that some layer of Sodapop's bravado - or maybe just his sensitivity and feelings - were bruised. I felt bad, but that situation and state of mind were far from my concern.
"I appreciate that Avery, but it's nothing that I'm not familiar with," Sodapop said. "I'm glad we got to hang out last night. You're a nice kid. But if you don't want to be friends, then we won't be. But that situation would be a whole lot easier if you wouldn't ask for favors."
It hurt my ego to think that I was falling head over heels for the boy while all he thought I was was a nice kid. But that issue was for another time. "Asking for information about my brother almost being killed last night isn't considered a favor," I stated bluntly, skirting around what really bothered me about his statement.
"Don't look too far into it, Avery. Trust me," he said. It ignited a sense of suspicion within myself that I didn't necessarily want to address. But I cared about Charlie. I wanted a sense of peace, I wanted to sort things out.
"If it has anything to do with you, Sodapop, just tell me. I would rather know than to assume."
"Avery. It's better if you just focus on him getting better and on yourself staying far away from this side of town. Just take my word. I'm looking out for you," he said gently. His smooth words and careful annunciation did nothing to make me feel any better. I noticed small details about him as he sat up. He wore a white t-shirt and no pants, which made me blush. There were clothes thrown all over the floor and the room seemed as if it had been thrusted in the air, but everything else seemed normal. I would be lying if I said that I was unaware of his beauty. Something about the moments when he wasn't trying to make a mark or impression on your heart or feelings is when I felt a flood of emotion towards him. With the amount of issues that were swirling at drag race speed around my head, the heartbreak and guilt that I felt about the way I treated him the last time I saw him was almost insignificant.
"Are you? Because it certainly doesn't feel like it." I could feel my blood starting to boil and my words coming out sharper and quicker. I tried to stop myself in my tracks, to prevent a scene from unraveling and to avoid blasting Sodapop with accusations that couldn't be proven.
"After you made it crystal clear that you wouldn't be caught dead around me, you should be glad that I am willing to do anything for you. Drop it, Avery!"
"Don't tell me to drop it, Sodapop. And please do not speak to me like you know me. If I learn that you or any of your friends had anything to do with my brother being jumped, I..." I trailed off, so brazen with anger and emotion that I could barely catch myself.
"'You', what?" Soda asked, keeping his composure intact.
"I will never forgive you. Ever," I quickly snapped, swiftly turning around and opening the door. I walked out past the gang, who looked at me, then looked in the room past Sodapop. The confrontation didn't give me the sense of relief or understanding that I hoped to get, but rather suspicion and doubt. Betrayal, too, but I didn't want to be compelled believe that Soda or his friends that I had laughed with the night before had anything to do with hurting someone who was so close to me without being able to prove it.
I got in the car with my dad and slammed the door. He looked over at me, surprised. "What was that all about?"
"Nothing. I thought I left my sweater here last night and wanted to come back to look for it."
"And I assume you didn't find it?" he asked, innocently.
I shook my head, knowing that I had to hide what we discussed inside of the house. Normally, my dad and I were pretty close, but I didn't want to let him know that I had lashed out at Soda the night before, or that he could have had a hand in Charlie's current condition. That would break his heart. So I kept it to myself.
I forced a weak smile. "It was my favorite sweater."
I had some inner turmoil with how I characterized Sodapop in this chapter. I've been off the horse for awhile but typed this chapter out really quickly and wanted to share. What do you think happened? Do you think Sodapop had something to do with it? Or is he protecting someone from something? Will Avery apologize? If Sodapop was a real person, wouldn't he be really gorgeous and charming? I need answers from YOU. If you read, review. Simple. Please. I'm begging. I love reviews. They make me happy and give me so much more motivation to write than you will ever know. It's like a singer performing for no audience - it isn't too fulfilling. Anyway, I hope you loved this. I hope you hated it. I hope you share what you thought either way and aren't too concerned with my avid disappearances because I am still here and I am still writing, it just takes me awhile :) School's out though and I am reading other Fanfics like crazy so expect updates! Hopefully!
I wish I was S.E. Hinton tbh
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