I hope you guys like this chapter because it's all Ponyboy and Denny. I thought you deserved it :)
It rained on Monday morning. Normally I wouldn't have given a damn because Kathy would drive me, but I wasn't over what happened on Friday and I guess early into Saturday. I spent the rest of the weekend alone, away in my room, because I didn't really want to see anyone. Not even James. All that time allowed me to catch up on my English reading – yeah, that's how much of a drag my weekend was. I read a couple poems by this guy Robert Frost.
He had this one poem called, The Road Not Taken, and it took me a hell of a long time to think about it. I didn't know what this guy was trying to say, but the more I read it the more I was sure it was some pretty heavy stuff. When I say I'm not all that smart I'm being honest. I didn't get it, it was too out there for me, and that bummed me out. I wanted to be able to get it – I just couldn't. I thought about how Sodapop Curtis dropped out of school. That seemed real nice, but my parents would freak out on me. He was older than me, though.
By the time I got to school my clothes were pretty wet. I was too tired to be angry, so I was in a mellow mood. I didn't feel like going to school or seeing anyone, but I was too chicken to cut class. I knew a lot of kids did it like it was no sweat, but I wasn't as brave as them. On the other hand, I was starting to wonder if my parents would even do anything if they found out I ditched school. They didn't seem to be coming down hard on me lately and I was thinking about getting away with it.
I found myself walking up the front steps and down through the hallway to my locker, anyways. It wasn't like me to go against the rules, who was I trying to fool? I hung up my backpack in my locker and reached around for my books.
"Hey." It was Ponyboy.
"Oh, hey," I said back. I only looked up from my locker for a moment.
"You goin' to class?" he asked.
"Why wouldn't I be?" I replied without thinking. I thought his question was odd. I was here so going to class was the plan, but when I looked at him he looked confused and I thought then that he was just trying to make conversation. "I mean, yeah."
What I noticed is that I wasn't too scared to talk to him. I remembered the movies, it had been so goddamn easy and I was feeling it now. But I also remembered what I told myself on the ride home; it ain't like he'd be after a girl like me. That was more important than anything I tried to tell myself before. So as dreamy as this all sounded, I wasn't about to let myself get all giddy and stupid over it. Plus, I didn't think I had the energy.
"I heard about your brother. He ok?" And I knew that's what this had to be about, because why else would he be talking to me here, at school, when he wasn't forced to by association? But at the same time, I was hoping it was because maybe he cared. He didn't have to ask, I guess. I couldn't tell what was real and what was influenced by a stupid crush. I had a thing for him and it sucked.
"I dunno," I said. "He should be."
I finished grabbing my books and I held them tight in my arm so I could close my locker. We stood there across from each other in the hall. The bell was going to ring soon so most kids were already in their homeroom class. I didn't want to be the first to walk away and plus we were going in the same direction, anyways, so I waited for him to move.
"Wanna book school and talk about it?" I stared at him. He was half smiling and I wasn't sure if he meant it or not, so instead of replying, naturally I panicked and stayed quiet. I opened my mouth, hoping something would come out, but he stopped me: "I'm joking."
"'Course you are," I mumbled as I turned away.
"Unless you wanted to?" he questioned. I didn't get far away before he followed up quickly. I spun myself back around slowly and stepped back to where I had been standing by my locker. I tilted my chin down, still unsure if he was serious or not. He didn't strike me as the skipping school type and I thought maybe I took his joke too far. He could've blurted it out in nervousness. But that'd be stupid, being nervous around me. I must've underestimated him. There was more to Ponyboy Curtis than just brains.
"You wanna?" I said.
"If you do."
I turned the dial on my lock so fast I thought my hand would break off. I threw my books into the back of my locker and nabbed my backpack off the hook. I nodded towards the open door, telling Ponyboy to put his books in there, too. He did and I locked it back up and the bell rang so loud as we rushed down the hall and out the front doors. When we were about a block away we stopped to catch our breath, though it was clear only I needed to. Ponyboy was on the track team and doing just fine.
"Take it easy," he laughed, noticing I was having trouble breathing properly. I couldn't laugh as hard as I wanted to, so it came out as a small giggle and I took another deep breath until I was back to normal again.
"Let's go to the park," I said. We ended up in that direction anyways and it wasn't much farther to go. We could kill time on the bleachers. I knew Ponyboy couldn't go near the DX and I couldn't go near, well, anywhere really. My mama was close to a lot of people in this town and it was surprising James didn't get into more shit than he did now.
"You ever skipped before?" Ponyboy asked me as we walked down the side of the road. I wasn't expecting a hell of a lot of conversation to go on, but I was glad he was trying, because I wasn't the best at it.
"Nope," I said honestly, because every time I tried to lie around him it backfired horribly. And for some reason or another I didn't much feel like trying to sound cool in front of him. I still wanted to impress him, but it was a lot more work than I thought it was gonna be and how any girl got a boy to like them was a mystery to me.
"Me neither."
"You ain't ever skipped before?" I couldn't hide my surprise. I was itching to get out of that building, but you couldn't show me a kid that wasn't, and I was hoping Ponyboy knew what he was doing because I sure didn't. I never would've skipped alone. I realized even when I was telling myself not to be sweet on him, it didn't change the fact that I was.
He shook his head. "No. My brother's gonna kill me." I figured he meant his oldest one, because there was no way Sodapop was going to lecture anyone about school. Even I knew that he wasn't hot on the idea of it and I barely knew him.
"Then what in the hell are we doin' ditchin' school for?"
"Isn't this what kids are 'sposed to do?" he retorted. That could sum up this whole scenario, and probably my life since I reached high school. Everyone else caught on real quick about what kids did and I felt like nobody ever told me, so how was I supposed to figure it out myself? And I guess that's why I had so many stumbles along the way, but even though now I had a fair grasp on it – especially from being around Amy and those girls – I still just wanted to play ball.
"I make a lousy kid," I told him. "I don't mean a li'l kid, either. I'm good at that. This growin' up thing has been throwin' me off. Know how much girls talk about boys? If they didn't have'ta sleep they could keep goin' for days, I'd bet."
"Not every girl," Ponyboy said. I wasn't much expecting a reply, because I was rambling about things that didn't really matter and I didn't think he'd care enough to not let them slide. "From the way you're talkin' I don't think you do, and you're a girl, aren'tcha?" He was almost smirking, but it was more teasing, and I kinda got it.
We reached the bleachers and Ponyboy sat down and I lied across one. I stared up at the sky, still thinking about what he said. I was a girl, and just because I didn't like typical girly things didn't mean I was a bad one. There had to be a lot of girls who didn't like those things, I mean, we're all different people. How could makeup, frilly hats, skirts, and all that be liked by every single girl? I didn't really know if it just so happened more girls I knew liked those things or if some were just lying to fit in. That thought really messed with my head. Who decided what was proper and what wasn't, anyways?
"How come boys all like pretty girls? What do the other girls get?" I distanced myself from the question, but what I really meant was 'other girls like me.'
"Denny," he said, using my name for the first time around me and giving me that good sick feeling. He scrunched up his face. "How come you'd ask me that knowin' there's different kindsa girls? Same goes for boys, y'know."
But I didn't know.