'Lord have mercy on my soul
Never woulda gone to that side of town
If it hadn't been for love' (If it Hadn't Been for Love. Steeldrivers)
Weeks blurred together, intermingled with visits from the gang and Shepard and Mrs. Sherwood, who was becoming more and more of a Soc in my eyes. The whole 'Soc-Greaser' war was dying down in a newborn war against the 'hippy's', but the past never really goes away. She was showing up, dressed in dresses and all done up, get more and more uppity and pretentious. It made me sick, and part of me thought I'd be all the more glad to get Jo so I wouldn't have to see Sherwood anymore.
A hearing with the judge about Jo's guardianship was itching closer as I healed, until finally the day came. It was my last day in the hospital, and all the guys and Sherwood were in the same room. I got a headache.
"Ready to go?" Sherwood asked, glancing at me from behind her prim glasses - the new glasses with the chain so they won't fall off. I hate Sherwood. I know why she's acting like this now, the 'i'm-better-than-you' attitude and new, ironed clothes and personality. I didn't overlook the fuckin' huge diamond on her left hand. Probably married some lawyer. Probably going to drop her job because the lawyer insists she doesn't need to be working - "I'm rich - you don't need to work, honey!". It makes me sick.
I didn't answer, just got out of the bed and opened the door, leaving them behind.
"Hey, Dal. Are you excited?" Darry asked, jogging to catch up. I glared at him, but he didn't back off.
"No. Why the hell would I be excited?" I answered. We cut right, and exited into the blinding sunlight. The sun made my eyes squint, stabbing and only adding to my intensifying headache. I lied to Darry - I was excited, but only so I'd have an answer. It killed me, the waiting. I'd waited three years.
"Guess you'd have to be excited. You waited so long" he shrugged. I didn't bother continuing the conversation, even when he made desperate stabs at conversation in the car. I was in the cab of Darry's truck, between him and Soda. The rest of the guys lounged in the bed of the truck, and I wished I was in the back with them so I could jump out and feel the pull of gravity as I fell.
"Ready?" Sherwood repeated once we were in the courtroom proper. I closed my eyes, rubbing my temple and imagining her combusting right there. If I hadn't tried so hard to stay out of trouble, then I wouldn't hesitate to murder her. My fingers itched for a fag, but I held myself back. The loud rap of the gavel felt like getting shot all over again, and when the judge announced the beginning of court, it was as though God was before me, Judgement Day had come, and I was unprepared.