AN: Hey guys, thank you for all the great reviews and constructive criticisms and stuff. Here's the next installment. I think I'm going to wrap this story up after the trial and maybe do a sequel. Or should i just do an epilogue? Your decision...
Disclaimer: See that word? That means i don't own anything. Well, i own things, just not these characters...or a boat...or a Corvette...or a, you know what? You get the point.
Chapter 14
I brought I the mail after taking out the trash. I flipped through the envelopes until one in particular caught my eye. It said 'To the Parent or Guardian of Ponyboy Curtis' on it in big letters. I put the rest of the mail on the counter, continuing to stare at the envelope. "Darry, mail!" I call finally.
Darry walks into the room and looks at me curiously, taking the envelope out of my hand. He opens it and scans it quickly, then says to me with a proud smile, "They're going to pass you on the seventh grade and let you skip into the ninth." I smile shyly and he puts the envelope down, patting my shoulder. He praises me quietly, "Nice job, kid. Wait 'til Soda hears this." I duck my head down and ask in concern,
"You don't think…I don't wanna make him feel bad…"
Darry comforts me with an assuring, "Honey, he'll be so proud of you." I grin then and turn to Mr. Harrison,
"I was gonna make lunch, do you want some?" He nods his head distractedly; I turn and open the refrigerator, digging around for something to make. Darry informs me quietly,
'You don't have to do that, Pone, I would've made you something."
"That's ok," I reply, "you've got to go to work tomorrow, I might as well help out while I can. I'm going to finish up this year in the seventh grade, right? Next school year will be in the ninth?"
Darry nods in agreement, "Yeah, the year is almost over anyways. It's already April. You're starting on Monday." Today was Saturday, that's why Darry was home. Soda was at work, and until I went back to school they couldn't very well leave me home alone. That wouldn't look very good. I can't stand the thought of Soda working a part-time job. He can barely keep up with school, who can blame him? He's only fifteen. He shouldn't have to work this hard, but then Darry shouldn't either. He's got two jobs lined up starting tomorrow; Two-Bit's going to come spend the day because both of my brothers will be at work. I'm going to be babysat constantly, I suppose. I turn as the door opens and Johnny walks in.
"Hey Johnny," I greet him, "perfect timing, I was just making lunch." I produce my masterpiece and Johnny smirks,
"When'd you learn to cook?" I shrug and respond vaguely,
"You pick it up." I don't explain myself as I hand off plates to them. I try eating everything of the small portion I gave myself. Lord, but I want more. I control myself though; I have to work up to the bigger portions. Johnny looks at Mr. Harrison sideways, inspecting him curiously. He's still a new addition; it's only been four days since he got here. Mr. Harrison barely ever says a word to us, but he's almost always scribbling notes down on his little notebook.
"You wanna head over to the Nightly Double? I hear they have some new movies playing." Johnny asks me. I turn to Darry with a pleading look. He looks pensive for a moment but finally agrees with a reluctant nod,
"Since it's not a school night." He concedes and then adds, "But I want you home before eleven, understood?" I nod obediently and Johnny and I hurriedly put our plates in the sink, racing out of the house.
"You don't even have a coat on!" Darry calls after me in annoyance. Johnny and I laugh, moseying down the street easily and slipping through the fence to the movies, which proves a bit difficult with a cast on my leg. We forgot to bring money.
I glace at Johnny as we head home. He looks nervous, he hears the footsteps too. "Well, well, well. Look at what we've got here. A couple of greaser-babies!" A deep voice booms in laughter, other fits of laughter follow. Johnny and I turn slowly, positioning ourselves in threatening stances. The Socs, all six of them, surround us with sneers on their faces. I narrow my eyes and I feel Johnny slouch more beside me. When a fist comes flying towards us, we know exactly what to do. It isn't easy fighting off three of them each, especially with my leg in a cast and me being on crutches. I actually turn that into an advantage as I start bashing my wooden crutch on the unsuspecting soc. I bet they thought this would be easy. As if. Johnny and I manage to fight them off finally and then we look at each other with wry smirks as they run off with their tails between their legs (figure of speech, Socs don't have tails…I don't think…). Glory is the gang going to be out for blood. I position myself on my crutches and Johnny limps home beside me. We look at each other for a moment before taking a breath and opening the door cautiously. Just our luck, the whole gang is there. They all stand up on their feet as we walk in and Dallas demands angrily,
"What the hell happened to you two?"
"We got into a bit of a…" Johnny searches for the right word, which I supply,
"Situation" Johnny nods and continues,
"Yeah, a bit of a situation with a couple guys. We took care of it though."
"If you guys won, I'd hate to see the other guys." Two-Bit laughs, but I reply heatedly,
"Well, we did." They stare in shock as Johnny says quietly,
"Yeah, we beat 'em good." Darry shakes his head as he produces a first aid kit,
"Well, let's get you cleaned up." Johnny and I look at each other in confusion,
"Why, we're not hurt that bad." I say finally. Darry raises an eyebrow,
"The two of you look like you've been run over by a bus or two." He tells us. We sigh and sit down, taking turns being patched up by Darry.
"I swear, we can't let the two of you go anywhere by yourself anymore." Dally grumbles, looking us over with fury in his eyes. Johnny and I slouch in shame. Johnny whispers quietly,
"We're alright. They didn't get us too bad, we fought 'em of fine." I nod eagerly.
"Still." Dallas replies simply, meaning 'end of conversation'. I lean against the couch tiredly. Mr. Harrison is looking at me in something that could almost be called pity.
"Are you alright? Who did this?" I return with an innocent look,
"I'm fine. It was just a couple of high school kids on the football team looking for a way to keep themselves busy." Mr. Harrison scowls,
"And bullying around a bunch of kids seemed like a good way to do that?" I shrug and say in my best endearing voice,
"Boys will be boys." He frowns and mutters,
"I've always hated that saying." I nod,
"Me too, unless it lets me get away with something…" Mr. Harrison grins at me. I might actually be good at this whole 'wrap the guy around my finger' thing. Who knew?
AN: Read, review, and keep me happy. Happy authors write good stories, sad authors...not so much. Thank you!