I get that this story isn't particularly romantic, and that Angela ended up a bit OOC here, but it seemed this was how the story was determined to go.
Chapter Ten
The tension eases between them, just a little.
Angela can feel Pony isn't quite as intimidated by her anymore. He's more open. He tells her things she feels lucky to be trusted with. She tries her best to find things worthy to tell him in return. It's not the most romantic exchange, but it's sweet. Better than guys who just want to kiss, to touch, to have a good time. Ponyboy doesn't push his limits, and she appreciates that.
She likes it when she's the one who gets to push them.
It's obvious he hasn't done much by way of girls before, though. She won't test him until he's comfortable. She'll give him his time, as much as that face of his beckons to her. She throws a silent thank-you to his mama and daddy. They sure knew how to create beautiful people, what with gorgeous Soda; big, strong Darry; and gentle, kind Ponyboy.
Angela has never been steady with a quiet boy before. Most of the time, the shy ones are frightened by her reputation. The quiet ones are never looking for bodies, just personalities. And Angela has been known for her one-of-a-kind bitch face. Oh, she knows she's quite talented at pulling it out. But she only does when it's needed, and she finds it real nice that she hasn't had to with Pony.
They head back to be on time like Darry told them; she doesn't protest because she doesn't want him in any more trouble. When they're only a few blocks away, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes, takes one for himself, and offers her one. He digs out a lighter and lights hers for her, before he does his. They breathe in the smoke at the same time, though, and she blows it out when he does.
A cigarette has never made her feel this good.
Smoking was a habit Angela picked up from Curly and Tim. There was always a pack or two lying around somewhere. When she was eleven, she decided to try one. Tim went ape shit on her, but, after that, she kept smoking, and he decided there wasn't much he could do about it. Angela has a feeling he doesn't really care, anyway.
Tim likes to try and play the responsible older brother. When it suits him.
Pony and Angela get to the Curtis house a few minutes ahead of schedule. Darry looks up, surprised, but nods approvingly. Angela supposes he wasn't expecting such promptness from her. After all, she is a Shepard. Perhaps the worst of all Shepards, as far as trashiness goes. And that's never bothered her before.
A couple guys come over throughout the day. A kid with ridiculous red sideburns, whose name Angel can't remember but cracks some great jokes. He's got a certain charm. A heavyset kid comes back from the DX with Soda, all surly and muscled. He ignores her except for making a snide remark about Tim.
Dallas used to run with this gang. The most hood-like of them all. Yep, she remembers Dallas. Remembers him like the back of her hand. Cold, strangely tempting Dallas. She would've tried to get close and personal with him if she hadn't feared Tim's reaction. Most of the time, Tim does pretend to be angry. Just for effect. But Angela knows his limits and knows not to try him. Yesterday, when he kicked her out ... that would have been nothing compared to if she tried to seduce Tim's dangerous friend at fourteen.
When Darry is making dinner, there's a loud knock at the door. Pony looks surprised; he makes a comment about how no one ever bothers to knock. When he answers the door, it's Curly.
Her brother has his hands shoved in his pockets. He looks down. "Hey."
"Hey, come in," Ponyboy says, moving to admit him.
Angela immediately looks to Curly. "Is Tim still pissed?"
"You mean, is it smart to go back?" Curly asks bitterly. "I'd say no. I heard talk at Buck's that Tim went and got himself beyond drunk last night. Punched Toby a good one."
"Oh." It's not much of a word, more of a whisper-sound that escaped her lips.
She hates it when Tim is mad at her.
She must appear so downcast Curly sees it. Well, there's no way he can't see it - she isn't one to show everything she's feeling. She tries to style that calm look after Curly, who does a passable version of it, since Tim is even better. She doesn't get it right, but she's definitely never open like this.
"Hey, kid, look at me," Curly mutters, gruff. Angela's eyes rise to his. "I shoulda owned up, or something. And shoulda never even Goddamned consider letting you come to that rumble with me and Pony."
"What's done is done," she says. Not to placate him because she feels it's okay. Angela just wants him to get back to the way he normally is. This Curly that would apologize is scaring her.
Darry lets Curly stay for dinner, and he leaves right after to get back to Alan's.
xxxxxx
"What d'ya say we head over to the Dingo?"
It's barely dusk outside, and the Curtis house is way too quiet for Angela's liking. She looks at Ponyboy hopefully. Please, say yes.
"I gotta ask Darry." He bites his lip. "Darry!"
"Yeah?" Pony's brother calls from the kitchen, where he's paying some bill or another.
"Angel wants to go someplace. That okay with you?"
There's a moment of consideration. "You better be back by midnight. Savvy?"
"Savvy," Ponyboy says, smiling. "Thanks, Darry!"
This time, it's Pony that grabs Angela's hand and pulls her out the door.
"You really wanna go to the Dingo?" he asks when they're about a block away from the house. "Or would you be up for something different?"
Ponyboy's eyes are aglow. She can't refuse something like that. "Sure," she tells him. "What's this something?"
"A thousand times better than the Dingo. Calmer, too. Trust me on this, 'kay?"
Angela doesn't know this side of Tulsa well, so she has no idea where Pony is leading her. The streets get darker and darker as the pink in the sky fades to purple. They don't say much, just breathe in the night air like it tastes delicious. It almost does, if she concentrates on it hard enough. It was nice to have an innocent day for a while. Just talking, living, being respectable. This is the person she wanted to be, for fleeting moments in her life. She gave up on the hope long ago. She's a Shepard. She can't live her life like this.
But she can live a day like this.
Ponyboy stops at the edge of a small forest. Mostly thick evergreens, coated with moss and forming a roof overhead. Too many shadows loom between the trees, but Pony looks so eager she follows him cautiously. He can sense her fear.
"Don't be scared," he says. "Just follow me."
He leads her deeper into the trees until they reach a little clearing. A natural one. The trees form a circular wall around it. Moss cushions the ground and hangs off of the limbs of the trees. A single fallen log slices the clearing in half, already covered in moss. Ponyboy sits down on it gingerly. Angela follows suit.
"Listen."
She listens, and all she hears is the faint rumbling of a car in the distance.
Ponyboy glances over at her for a second. Then he slides to the ground so that his back is resting against the log, and, again, Angela copies him. He tilts his head back, staring at the sky. She does the same.
"Ain't that beautiful?"
She notices he reverted back into 'ain't.'
Her eyes study the sky, just a mesh of dark colors now. In the beginning, it just looks like sky. But as she waits, she can see what Pony sees, almost. She can, for a short moment, think like he does.
"Yeah," Angela tells him. "Yeah, that's real beautiful."
And it is. The hues blend together better than any artist could ever do it. Navy, deep violet, a few drops of burgundy and black. "How do you find this?" she wonders aloud.
"Huh?"
"I look at the sky and see just sky. How do you make yourself notice these things?"
Ponyboy sighs. It's not unhappy. "It's not something I try to do. Just something that happens. I've always seen like that, always thought like that. Hardly anybody understands."
There's a hitch in his voice, and that's what makes her hesitate before she asks, "Who?"
"My brother Soda, he gets it. If I point it out to him. That's better than Darry. He can't see it at all."
"And?" Angela feels the need to push him.
"I don't know if you ever saw him. But Johnny Cade ... he was my buddy. We thought alike. But he had it hard. He was too good, man. He died because of it."
"And Dallas..."
Angela knows instantly she should not have brought up Dallas Winston. She clamps her mouth shut tight.
Ponyboy stiffens, closes his eyes.
"I shoulda showed Dally," he whispers. "Johnny told me to."
He seems like he's in pain, now. She puts a hand on his arm.
"Hey," she finds herself whispering. "Don't. You're okay. It's over and done with. Look at the sky. They're up there now, you know? You said yourself it's beautiful. And it is."
Angela has no idea where this thoughtfulness and almost sappiness has come from. But she feels Ponyboy relax next to her.
All is quiet, and, again, she listens. Blocks out the noises of the cars. The city. Listens to the forest, or tries to.
The birds are silent. Asleep, most likely. But a tiny breeze makes the trees quiver, and some sort of animal is traipsing around on the forest floor. The leaves are crunching under its feet. There aren't any crickets, like they always seem to put in movies, but there are tiny sounds of life that are so much more impacting.
When Angela glances over at him again, Ponyboy is smiling slightly.
She doesn't feel like herself at all today, but maybe that's not a bad thing. She has a feeling that tomorrow, she'll wake up and be the same Angela Shepard. Bitch queen supreme.
But she'll hang onto this Angela until midnight.
She closes her eyes, and she listens.
Day 3 : Finish