"Steve, pass me the ball!" Soda shouted at me from the other end of the lot.
We were playing football, which we rarely did anymore since last year. Mainly because Ponyboy refused to come to the lot anymore and Soda didn't want Pony to be alone, so he didn't play either. That just left Two-Bit, Darry, and I. I don't know why, but Darry thinks playing with less than four people isn't fun, so he won't play either, and that just ruins the game all together at that point. Every now and then, Scout would play, but that wasn't often. Right now, it was Soda and I against Darry and Two-Bit. I think Pony went off with some Soc girl earlier.
I tossed the football at Soda, but Darry lept up and caught it mid-air. He landed and started running to he other end of the lot. Soda chased Darry and sprung on his back, causing Darry to stumble and slow down under Soda's weight. Darry shook Soda off, and Soda landed on his back with a loud thud and a howl of pain. Darry continued to run. Soda curled on the cement, clutching his side. I ran over to him and slowly turned him over.
"Hey, man. You okay?" I asked. Soda shook his head. "What's wrong?"
"Think I broke a rib man," Soda croaked. I looked up a Darry, who was at the other end of the lot with his arms crossed over his chest and a triumphant smirk on his face. Two-Bit was over there, too, attempting to imitate some stupid dance in celebration of Darry making a goal.
"Hey, shit-heads," I growled at them. Darry looked at me and Two-Bit stopped dancing. "Soda's hurt. I think he broke a rib or something." Darry and Two-Bit exchanged worried glances and rushed over to Soda and I.
"Hey, kid-brother. You alright?" Darry asked, concerned. Soda shook his head again.
"What happened?" Two-Bit asked seriously. That tone sure did sound awkward coming from Two-Bit.
"Darry tossed my off his b-back," Soda mumbled through clenched teeth, "and I think I broke my rib." He shut his eyes tightly and drew in a painful gasp of air. Darry's eyes widened when he realized what he had done.
"Shit," Darry whispered to himself. "We've gotta get you to the hospital." He ran a hand through his hair and stood up. "I'll bring 'round the truck. Two-Bit, Steve, you stay here with Soda. I'll be right back." Darry ran off towards the house at the end of the lot.
"Hey, man. You'll be okay," I said, looking back down at Sodapop.
"Yeah, thanks man," Soda gasped.
"You shouldn't talk," I advised, "it looks painful." Soda nodded his head and remained silent.
The roar of a rusty, old engine ripped through the air as Darry pulled up beside Soda, Two-Bit, and I in the truck. He hopped out the truck and looked down at Soda.
"Okay," Darry started, "Steve help me get Soda into the truck, will ya?"
"What do I do?" Two-Bit asked.
"Just stand there and don't screw anything up," I said. Two-Bit frowned, crossing his arms and taking a step back.
"Fine, I'll try," Two-Bit huffed. I stood up and slid my hands under Soda's arms. Soda groaned as I gently began to lift him up. Darry lifted Soda's legs and we both heaved him into the truck. I pushed Soda into a sitting position in the passenger's seat. Soda's face was scrunched into an expression that said he was in extreme pain.
"You gonna be alright, man?" I asked him.
""Yeah," Soda groaned, "I'll be okay." I lightly patted him on the shoulder and closed the door. Darry got into the truck and leaned out of the window, saying, "You two can ride in the bed, alright?" I nodded and hopped into the truck bed, shifting various tools around to clear a space to sit. Two-Bit got in after me and sat down. Darry started the truck and drove to the hospital.
About half an hour later, we had managed to get Sodapop into the hospital. It was difficult, though. Soda was much heavier than he looked, and at some point during the drive he passed out. About fifteen minutes later, someone finally decided to give Soda some medical assistance. Now Darry, Two-Bit, and I were sitting in the waiting room. Darry was seated in the corner, filling out some paperwork for Soda, I was skimming through a magazine about cars that was sitting on a table, and, shoot, I don't know what Two-bit was doing. I think he was trying to pick up on one of the nurses. She had blonde hair, so that was a likely possibility.
"Steve," a soft, yet irritated voice said.
"Evie?" I turned around. Sure enough, Evie had walked into the room, her arms folded across her chest and her face contorted in rage. I stood up, making my way towards her. "Evie, what are you doing here? What's wrong?"
Evie looked over my shoulder at Darry and Two-Bit. The pair of them had stopped what they were doing to watch Evie and I. "Steve, I need to talk to you in private," she hissed quietly.
"Babe, I'm kinda busy righ-"
She cut me off. "Now, Steve," she snarled. "And don't call me 'babe'." Evie walked out the door, motioning for me to follow. I looked at Darry and Two-Bit, shrugging as I followed Evie out the door. As soon as I stepped outside, Evie belted me across the face, and hard, too. My cheek stung and I stared at her in disbelief. "What is your problem?" Evie spat.
"What'd you do that for?" I yelled.
"What is your problem?" she repeated.
"My prob-"
"Why were you hanging with that Soc skank, Marcia?" I knitted my eyebrows together in confusion and said, "I haven't seen Marcia in months, Evie."
"Bullshit. Sylvia told me she saw you and Marcia in the same car at the nightly Double last night. She said she saw you kissing her, too."
"Sylvia told you?" I spat. "You mean the same lying whore who cheated on Dallas at least twenty times? Evie, you hate her!" Evie opened her mouth, but no sound came out. For the first time, I noticed Evie was actually crying.
"I," she began, starting to sob, "I'm done, Steve. I'm leaving." Evie retreated a few steps, shaking her head as tears rolled down her cheeks. My eyes widened, and I said, "You're not serious, are you?"
"I'm sorry," she gasped quietly, stepping further back. My heart sunk as I took a step towards Evie and she ran off. Evie and I had been going since grade school, and now it was over. That fucking Sylvia, I thought, this is all her fault. Ever since Dally died, she'd been sleeping around more and more. I knew I was her next target, judging by her never ending passes at me. This was too far, though. Suddenly I could care less that Soda was in the hospital. Sure, I was worried for his well-being, but right now all I could think about was getting back at Sylvia.
I knew Darry and Two-Bit were watching me through the glass doors of the hospital, but I walked away anyway, not caring what they thought. Honestly, I knew Evie and I would separate sometime soon. We had been fighting more and more lately, and Evie had been growing distant. Sylvia's little lie was just enough to knock our relationship over the edge. That's why I was determined to find her, get some kind of compensation. Perhaps I would cuss her out, but you don't cuss out and woman. It just doesn't happen. Even Dallas had known that. I respected that rule, but right now I just didn't care. Evie was everything to me, and I think Sylvia deserves everything I'm going to throw at her. I remembered back when Dallas was in reform school and Sylvia tried to get a shot at Johnny. I remembered getting a hold of her and telling her that I'd beat the tar out of her if she tried getting at Johnny again. Briefly, I wondered if I actually would do that to her for this. I might just be angry and crazy enough to do it. However, it would be considered going too far. I think so, too.
As I walked, a cheap, beat-up black Mustang slowed down to match my pace. The window rolled down and Tim Shepard poked his head out and looked at me. "Hey, Randle," he called. I looked up at him His scarred face was flashing me a cold, hard grin. "Where ya headed?"
I shrugged. "Dunno. Lookin' for Sylvia."
"Boy, that broad's trouble." Tim's smile faded. "Ain't no good tanglin' with her, Randle. Just sayin'."
"I know," I said coolly and continued walking. "Lyin' broad's gone and told Evie I was cheatin' on her with a Soc and she broke up with me." Tim was still slowly rolling his car beside me.
"Shoot, I don't like nothin' better than revenge," Tim howled gleefully with a wolfish grin. "Get in. Sylvia's at Buck's. I'll take ya there." Tim stopped his battered Mustang in the middle of the road and I got in. Tim turned the car around and started driving down the road. "So, what're ya gonna do? To Sylvia, I mean," Tim asked.
"Dunno," I answered dully. "Been thinkin' 'bout that. Probably just gonna yell at her a bit."
"Never yell at a woman," Tim snapped. "Not even if she's a sly little skank like Sylvia." Even hoods obeyed that rule. Here in Tulsa, cussing at a woman is a one-way ticket for a good ass-kicking - usually handed out by Tim Shepard and Company.
"I know," I sighed, "but what else would I do? Hit her? That's a bit extreme." Tim remained quiet. I could tell he agreed with me that hitting Sylvia would be worse than yelling at her. After a minute, Tim said, "Fine. I'll tell my outfit not to pound on ya for it. If someone else hears 'bout it, though, you're on your own." I nodded, content with Tim's decision. I have proved that I could hold off four people with nothing more than a broken pop bottle, but I still wouldn't want to get caught in a dark alley by Tim Shepard's gang.
Tim pulled up to Buck's, giving me a punch in the shoulder and advised me to only yell at her enough so that she got the message what she did was stupid and to do nothing but that, or else he would see to it that I wouldn't be able to have any sense of feeling for a month. I reassured him that nothing drastic would happen and he drove off. To my surprise, Tim told me he would be back in ten minutes to pick me up. I didn't argue. I didn't have a ride back anyway, and I wasn't itching to walk.
When Tim's Mustang disappeared around the corner, I turned towards Buck's and made my way to the door. I opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit room. My eyes were unfocused for a moment, but as seconds passed everything began to become clearer. As usual, the room was cluttered. Buck had never been one to clean up, especially after one of his parties. It was eerily quiet, too, since no one was in the room but me. Not Buck or Sylvia, not even a random drunkard sporting a hangover. Clearly Buck had thrown a party last night, so I was genuinely surprised there wasn't one or two stumbling around.
"Steve?" The high-pitched voice made me jump. "Steve, is that you?" I could already feel my temper rising as Sylvia cascaded down the stairs, clad only in a pair of low-cut shorts, the legs rising so high up her thighs at hardly covered much, and a top cut so that it showed he stomach slightly. I couldn't understand why Dally had given her so many chances, let alone dated her in the first place. Sure, she was pretty, but I thought Dally had enough self-respect to date someone decent. Sylvia stepped in front of me. "Boy have I been waitin' for you," she purred, placing her hands on her hips.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I snarled. Sylvia's eyes widened in shock.
"Excuse me?" Her seductive manner had vanished. I couldn't tell if Sylvia was hurt or angry, or even both. All I knew was the look on her face was priceless.
"Who the hell d'ya this you are?" I hissed at Sylvia. She looked at me blankly. I took a step towards Sylvia and she backed away. "Why'd ya tell Evie that, huh? Tellin' her this bullshit story 'bout me cheatin' with a Soc." Sylvia retreated a few steps and ran into a chair, stumbling slightly. She looked up at me and remained silent. I glared at her and Sylvia pursed her lips, looking down at her sandals. Sylvia looked up at me and said, "I just thought you two weren't working. I like you, and I didn't want you to get hurt."
"Bullshit," I said venomously. Sylvia's eyes widened and she looked as though I had hit her. Tears slowly welled up in her eyes. "I've been watchin' ya Sylvia, and I've seen what ya do. Ya lie, ya cheat, and no matter what it takes you make sure you always get what ya want." Her tears slowly began sliding down her face. She knew what I said was true. Sylvia had no problem walking all over people to accomplish whatever she wanted. Boys, money, anything she could think of. She would do anything as long as it didn't disadvantage her. Maybe that's why Dallas had always gone back to her. It was because she wanted him to.
"You knew Evie would leave, didn't ya?" I growled at Sylvia. She lowered herself into the chair and covered her eyes with her hand. "Ya knew once Evie was gone it'd be easier to get a shot with me?" Why was she crying? Sylvia was tough. Tough girls don't cry.
"I wasn't tryin' t-"
"Don't deny it. I ain't stupid, so tellin' me ya haven't been pullin' your usual tricks on me ain't gonna work," I said. Sylvia sighed and looked at the ground, dragging her wrist across her cheek to wipe away a tear.
Buck stumbled into the room and looked at me and Sylvia. He had his fingers tangled in his hair as he held his head and his face was scrunched up, contorted with discomfort. The shirt that hung limply off his shoulders was stained and wrinkled. He must have been sleeping off a hangover.
"Can y'all shut up?" he said groggily, whistling slightly through his missing front teeth. "I'm tryin' to sleep." Buck examined Sylvia from the doorway. "What's goin' on?"
"Nothin', Buck," I growled. Buck shrugged and walked back into his room. I looked back at Sylvia, who was still crying silently in the chair. Mascara was trailing down her face and Sylvia hurriedly attempted to wipe it away, smearing it across her face. I suddenly felt a pang of guilt. Sure I was mad, but seeing a girl, any girl, cry makes me feel horrible. Sylvia deserved it, I thought, but I knew it wasn't true. She was right about me and Evie not working given the way things were going between us lately. Our relationship probably would have ended worse if given any more time. I sighed, releasing some of my anger along with my breath. I knew I wasn't thinking straight.
I looked at Sylvia and sighed, then without another word, I stepped outside. Sylvia hollered something about calling the cops as the door shut behind me. I ignored her and laughed when I heard Buck shout for her to shut up. I leaned against the wall and dug around in my pocket for a Kool, pulling one out and lighting it. I stayed there, dragging on my cigarette and watching cars drive by. One of the cars turned into the small lot in front of Buck's and stopped in front of me. Tim had his arm dangling out of the window, and cigarette limply held in between his fingers. He stuck his head out and looked at me. He was attempting to mask the disappointment clearly etched on his face. I knew it was because of me hollering at Sylvia, so I didn't bother asking him what was wrong as I got into his old Mustang.
"I still wanna kick your head in," Tim sighed after several minutes of driving.
"Yeah, I know," I sighed, looking out the window at the passing buildings. "Shoot," I said after a while, "I bet Sylvia's sorry she ever told Evie that."
"I bet," Tim said as he pulled up to the Curtis house. As I stepped out of his car, I wondered why I wasn't actually torn up about Evie leaving. We had been together almost five years and I was certain that I loved her. Isn't that the type of thing that keeps most people up at night after a break up, sobbing their eyes out? Then I remembered earlier this year. Kathy had left Two-Bit because she thought he drank too much, but Two-Bit didn't bat an eye. He didn't cry, it seemed as though he had forgotten how to. However, he did lose his cheerful, wisecracking manner for about a week. I wondered if I would become distant from reality, like Two-Bit. Accepting the fact that only time could tell what would happen, I followed Tim into the house.
"Where is everyone?" Tim asked. Then I remembered Soda had broken his rib. I felt ashamed of myself, walking out on him so that I could find Sylvia. Soda, being the most apprehending of the greasers, would understand, but I knew he would still be angry. Then there's Darry, who would probably kick my head in without letting me explain. Hesitantly, I said, "Pony's showing some girl around town. The rest of 'em are at the hospital."
I was taken aback when I saw Tim's face. For once, he seemed concerned. If you want to see something abnormal, it is a tough hood like Tim looking sorry. "Why're they in the hospital?"
"Soda broke his rib." Tim pursed his lips and sat down, clasping his hands between his knees. I sat down next to him.
"Steve, can I tell ya somethin'?" Tim sighed. I nodded. "Well," Tim began, "there's this girl. I really like her, but she thinks I'm a trashy hood." Again, I was surprised. Not only was Tim Shepard concerned about someone else, was telling me about a girl that he actually liked. All in the same day, too! Tim scratched the back of his neck and continued, "I really want to be with this girl, too. She ain't no damn broad. I been tryin' to get her to like me, but it ain't workin'." Tim sighed and buried his head in his hands.
"You try bein' nice to her?" I asked. Tim shot me a look that said he had obviously done so. Well, more like he had done what he interpreted as nice. "Alright," I said thoughtfully, "how d'ya talk around her?"
"I call her 'doll' a lot. I think that'd be decent 'nough," Tim answered. I frowned disapprovingly and shook my head.
"Compared to other things I've heard ya say, sure. But gals don't like it if ya call her that and you're not datin' her." Tim cocked an eyebrow and thought about what I had said, nodding when he understood. "What else d'ya do?" Tim paused for a moment, then said, "Sometimes I'll sit next to her and throw my arm 'round her shoulders."
"Glory, Tim," I exclaimed, aghast at his devious ideas of being nice, "that ain't no way to treat a gal you're after!" Tim glared at me. "Who is she, anyway?" I interrogated him. Tim didn't answer, and he looked at the floor, scowling.
"Then what do I do, instead?" Tim growled.
"Well, first step is stop tryin' to pick her up the way you are. I don't even want to hear what else ya do, but just stop it," I said. "Just do somethin' like openin' a door for her. Somethin' cheesy like that."
Tim nodded and sighed. He began saying, It's Ch-" before he was cut off by the sudden roar of an engine. I peered out the window, and sure enough Darry was pulling up by the house. Two-Bit was riding in the truck's bed again, and Darry hopped out of the truck to help Soda. I looked over my shoulder at Tim, who looked slightly annoyed, and then I got up to help Darry and Two-Bit with Soda. I doubted they would need my help, but I stepped outside, anyway. When I came out, I could hear Soda declining Darry and Two-Bit's aid.
"I'm fine," Soda said, weakly pushing past Darry and Two-Bit, "I can walk by myself." Two-Bit shrugged and walked into the house, giving me a fleeting glance before disappearing through the doorway. Darry remained by Soda's side as the injured boy started walking up to the porch. I sighed, relieved that Soda really could walk fine. He and Darry both walked up to me. Darry fixed me with an icy glare and I shifted in discomfort. When Darry gets mad, you'd just better hope he's not mad at you. I should be so lucky. Darry got almost as scary as Dally did when he was angry, but not in the same way. When Dally was mad, he would shout, maybe throw something before storming off somewhere to find a fight to blow off the steam. When Darry was mad, he'd shout and shout till he was blue in the face, then shout some more. He would threaten you with anything he could think of, which when coming from Darry would make you want to crawl somewhere dark and hide. Soda didn't seem too concerned about my disappearance. He gave me a questioning look, though, which still made my stomach drop with guilt.
"Where did you go," Darry stated aggressively.
"Thanks to Sylvia, Evie left me." I addressed my answer more to Sodapop than to Darry. Soda, my best friend, needed to know where I went more than Darry did. I knew that Soda would understand more than Darry would, too. When Sandy left for Florida last year, Soda was distant and depressed. He needed to just get out, find some relief. I felt that I got some relief when I yelled at Sylvia. Honestly, I wouldn't want to know what Soda would do if he ever found the guy Sandy cheated with. Soda nodded when I answered, letting me silently know that he understood. He walked inside and I turned to follow, but Darry reached forward and grabbed the back of my shirt to prevent me going anywhere.
"That ain't a good enough answer, Steve," Darry said. His tone wasn't as aggressive as it had been a moment ago, but a bit of anger still lingered. "What I wanna know is why you walked off and where you went."
"Tim drove me up to Buck's," I answered coolly, trying to hide the fact that Darry was starting to scare me. Like I said, you don't want to mess with Darry when he was mad.
"To do what?" Oh boy, I thought, here we go. Darry wanted the truth, and it wouldn't do me any favors lying to him. In a steady, slow voice, I said, "To find Sylvia."
"What did you need Sylvia for?"
"What is this, twenty questions? Let go of me, man."
"Answer me." Darry tightened his grip on my shirt.
"The broad told Evie I was cheatin' on her with Marcia," I hissed back. "I just wanted to talk to her."
"What did you say to her?"
"C'mon, Darry. What's this got to do with Soda?
"I want to know why you left my kid brother and what you did to Sylvia," Darry snarled viciously, slamming me against the wall. "Now." Darry's other hand balled into a tight fist and I gulped. I knew Darry could pack a hard punch, even harder when he was seething like he was now.
"I just-" my voice was quiet, quavering slightly. I cleared my throat and said a bit louder, "I just yelled at her. I was angry 's all." Darry's eyes widened a bit and he set his jaw. I knew knew his fist was going to slam into my face for sure now. Boy, it was a real bad idea to say that to him.
"You what?" Darry said loudly.
"Told ya it was a bad idea, Stevie," a voice said from the doorway. I turned my head to see Tim, crossing his arms as he leaned on the doorframe. He looked neither victorious nor sympathetic. He was void of emotion as he watched Darry slap me upside the head, and hard, too. I hurt, of course, but I was expecting more than a hard slap across the head. Especially coming from an infuriated Darrel Curtis. Tim retreated into the house without another word. Darry released his secure grip on my shirt and pointed a finger at me, proding my chest with it.
"I don't ever want to hear 'bout you yelling' at a woman again," Darry whispered in a dangerous voice. "I know you, Randle. I know how you get when you're angry. I bet you swore at her too, huh?" Darry's eyes were blazing. I guess I knew how bad what I did was, but I never expected Darry to get this aggravated over it. I shrunk back a little as Darry continued to scrutinize me. "I should pound your ass flat for doin' something so ridiculously stupid. Are you trying to do that? I should do it here and now, but for Soda's sake, I won't." Leaving me with everything he said and a disgusted sneer, Darry stomped into the house.
I can't lie, I was shaking like a leaf, still glued to the side of the house. A mirror wasn't necessary for me to know my face was a white as a sheet. The next worse thing to being pummeled by Darrel Curtis was being yelled at by Darrel Curtis. Boy, he could make you feel just as bad with a raised voice as he could with his fist. I could feel my heart hammering and my stomach flip. Tim came outside again and looked at me, a small smirk on his face.
"Shoot, I was sure Darry was gonna hand your ass to ya there," he drawled. "You're lucky."
"Glory," I sighed, running a trembling hand through my hair, "I'm glad he didn't.
"Soda and I could hear the whole thing. Boy, Soda was pretty angry when he heard you had yelled at Sylvia. But I think it ticked him off more once Darry started hollerin' at ya." Tim chuckled shortly before continuing. "When Darry went in, Soda just shot straight up and started hollerin' at him." Tim paused and Soda and Darry's arguing voices drifted out the door.
That was the first time I had ever heard Darry yell at Soda. it just never happened. No one ever yelled at Soda. Soda never got angry, either. I felt bad because if I had never walked off to find Sylvia, Darry never would've gotten mad. I started to feel worse as I realized how stupid of an idea that was, anyway. All it did was make my friends angry at me. Nothing really had happened at Buck's, either. I just shot a few choice words at Sylvia and left. I didn't even get Evie back, and it was only making my life worse.
After a minute of hearing Darry and Soda bicker, I let out a humorless laugh. "Shoot, Tim, I'm gonna head home," I said curtly. Tim nodded and stepped back inside, shutting the door behind him. I sighed and leapt off the Curtises porch and onto the sidewalk, then dug my hand into my shirt pocket and pulled out a cigarette. I lit it and started down the street, my hands buried in my pockets and my mind racing.