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Jumped

The bright lights of the movie house made me flinch, and I rubbed my eyes until I saw stars. Yawning a little and draining the last of my Pepsi, I waited until the other people here for the movie had mostly left before standing, grabbing my empty tub of popcorn and the cup with only a few cubes of ice left and carried them over to the trash, nodding to the guy with a broom whose job it was to clean the theater and headed out into the chilly air outside.

I was mostly feeling better, despite a lingering cough that didn't seem to want to let go. I ignored it for the most part, although it had been an issue a few days before at track practice. My lungs had seized up a little when I'd started running, and even Two-Bit had been able to tell from the bleachers that I wasn't doing my best. So he'd dragged me back to the Curtis house and had insisted I rest. He was acting like my dad or my big brother or something, but I didn't mind much. It was good of him to care, I guess. No one else ever had.

When I was a kid, I'd gotten sick lots of times, mostly while I was staying with my grandfather. My mom had never been real good at taking care of me even when I wasn't sick, so I'd almost hoped that he would be better…that he'd care or something. But he'd just told me to keep it down the first time I'd woken up coughing with a cold, and had ordered me to clean up the mess when I'd thrown up in the bathroom. So I'd learned pretty early on not to let other people know I was sick. I'd figured the guys I was now spending a lot of time with wouldn't much care. I'd apparently been wrong.

Soda and Darry had been the best, but all the guys were now looking after me, especially Steve and Two-Bit at school. Johnny too. Johnny was actually the one who'd stuck around the most, finding me between classes or coming with me to the library at lunch and working on his homework. Sometimes we'd work on stuff together, and I'd help him out with English while he looked over my math. He was awful good at math. Science too, even though he was in chemistry and I was in biology.

My classes were full of those rich kids, the socs, and more and more, they'd started bugging me. It started with laugher and whispers, which was no big deal…that's what I told myself. I was used to people pointing and laughing at me. It had been the main form of communication at my old school. So it didn't bother me anymore. But then it had moved onto spitballs and the occasional foot stuck out in the aisle when I walked by.

Then there was the muttered 'greaser' as they passed me in the hallway, the shoulders that knocked against mine…and finally Two-Bit had caught one of them harassing me and Johnny, and he'd made the guy back off. But Two-Bit couldn't always be with me…at some point, there was a chance one of them would catch me alone. And then it would be just like the first night I'd met them in that lot.

After school was out, I'd gone straight to the movies. I'd spent a lot of time with the guys over the last week, and even though I really liked hanging out with them, I didn't want them to think I was gonna get clingy or something. I could hang out by myself…I did it all the time. I spent a lot of nights at Darry and Soda's house, but I thought I'd give them some time without me and catch a movie on my own. Then I planned on going home and sleeping in my own room.

I'd tried to focus on the movie, but I kept going back to Sodapop…Sodapop, who had assured me again and again that I was like their family. That I was always welcome and I had my own room and they were all my friends. And I believed them! Really…they were my friends. I'd never had friends before but I believed them. They were my friends. They'd have my back if I needed them, and I guess if they needed anything, I'd do my best to help, despite probably not being able to do anything. But even though I knew that they were my friends, I also knew that people tended to get tired of me. My mom. My grandfather. My uncle…although my uncle had never actually wanted me. And everyone at my old school…I was really good at getting people to turn against me. So I had to make sure they didn't get tired of me.

The movie was good. Paul Newman was real tuff, and the story was interesting. I just kept thinking about Soda. Something was wrong…he'd been real quiet over the last couple of days. I saw him in the morning for breakfast and usually he was almost chipper in the mornings. Over the last couple of days, though, he'd been quieter than normal. He'd never snapped at Steve once. Not me…he was always nice to me. But something was wrong. It was none of my business…I knew that much. Still, it was bugging me. He'd been great to me, and I wanted to help if I can.

Lost in thought, I didn't notice the car tailing me as I headed home from the movies. I should have been paying attention. I should have been watching. I was usually real good at watching my back. I'd had to watch my own back for years…there weren't socs at my old school…not exactly, but mean kids were everywhere. Sometimes they'd follow me home and jump me in an alley or something. That was when I'd learned to find places to hide around town. That way I could hide from my family and from the jerks who wanted to torment me.

The socs had been bugging me more and more and even though I was sure Two-Bit and Steve were keeping them away from me as best they could, they couldn't always be around. I ate lunch with them or spent it in the library, and I had gym with Steve, but otherwise, I rarely saw them when we were actually at school. Sometimes they'd find me between classes, but there wasn't always time.

Gym with Steve was usually okay. I was a fast runner, and Steve was pretty good too, so we stuck together during laps and whatever sports the coach forced us into doing. Sometimes the socs would try to gang up on us in class when we had team sports, but there were enough greasers around to back us up. It was strange…I wondered when I'd started thinking of myself as a greaser.

The car was tailing me pretty close, but my mind was on Sodapop. And the guys. My uncle…the socs at school. I had a lot of crap to worry about. It wasn't until the car was pulling up right alongside me that I realized what was happening. Turning and finding a Mustang pulling up to the curb, full of rich kids with big grins and flasks, I froze for a second too long, my heart dropping. Then, just as they climbed out of their car, I was running.

I only made it a few steps before someone tackled me, and I hit the concrete hard. Not letting myself feel the pain of my hands scraping the concrete and the dull throb of my forehead where I assumed I was bleeding. Instead, I bucked and kicked and punched, thrashing desperately and doing my best to shove the guy off me. He let me turn around until I was on my back, and then two more of them had my arms pinned while the one sitting on my stomach was punching me in the face. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get my arms free, and when he'd finally finished hitting me, I spit blood in his face.

He grinned, not getting angry. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade. My whole chest went tight and I froze as he brought the blade up to my throat, his grin feral. "Hey greaser." I needed to yell for someone…I couldn't fight all of them. Heck, I could barely fight one of them. He had a knife and I was actually going to die. "I think you need a haircut." He gripped my hair with one hand, yanking too hard, and my head throbbed. I wanted to spit at him again, but that knife was really close to my face. "What do you think, guys? How about we give this greaser a haircut." Honestly, if he wanted to cut my hair, that was the least of my problems.

Then the knife went down to my throat, pressing gently into my skin. I flinched when it stung, and I felt blood drip down my neck. "How about I start that haircut right below the jaw?" And then I was screaming.

"Help! Soda, Darry, Two-Bit, Dally! Someone, help!" I started fighting again, knowing that I was increasing the chances that the knife would slip and cut my throat for real, but I didn't care. I strained against the people holding my arms down, screaming as loud as I could and not sure if the guys could hear me. But if ever there was a time that I wished the gang would show up, it was now! They kept holding me down against the concrete sidewalk and I wondered as I bucked and screamed, kicking my feet and trying to knock the guy off of me why no adults were helping. I was on the sidewalk. Sure, we were close to an alley, but people were driving by! People were close…they could hear me. They had to. Why was no one helping?

I felt the knife nick my neck once more, but the guys didn't let go. Instead, they just tightened their grip, the knife still too close. "Shut him up!" One of them shouted, and I heard a car drive by. What the hell was wrong with people? These guys could kill me on the street and no one would care?! I brought up a knee, attempting to get the guy off me before a dirty rag that smelled like oil was shoved into my mouth. Choking around the disgusting rag, I tried to scream, but it came out as more of a whimper.

The sound of running footsteps came just a few seconds later, and then the soc was off me, and I grabbed the rag from my mouth, throwing it onto the sidewalk beside me and coughing, stared dazedly up at the sky. Gasping for breath for a second, I glanced over and found Darry and Sodapop and the rest of the guys all chasing after the socs. Darry managed to get a hold of one, slamming a fist into his face, and Steve half-tackled another, shoving him down onto the sidewalk.

The socs managed to get to their car, taking off down the road, while the guys all chased after them. I wiped a hand down my face, sighing and sitting up. Darry was the first to turn back toward me, hurrying over and crouching on the sidewalk next to me. "Kiddo? You okay?" He asked, reaching out and touching my cheek. I brought a hand up to my throat, flinching when it stung. I had two cuts on my neck, both of them dripping blood. My fingers were smeared with it, and Darry handed me a clean rag from his back pocket.

"Yeah. Fine." I muttered, wiping my eyes quickly and feeling like an idiot. I was crying in front of Darrel Curtis after getting punched a couple of times. Surely these guys had gotten a lot worse than that. Heck, so had I! The last time they'd saved me, I'd gotten worse than this. And now I was crying. I mean, I had that last time too, but I'd had a concussion or something. And sure, I was a little dizzy, but I didn't think I had a concussion. "Sorry." I mumbled as an afterthought, looking away from Darry who put a hand on my shoulder.

"You're alright, Pone." He squeezed my shoulder as Sodapop loped over, crouching on my other side and patting me on the back, the two of them blocking me from the view of anyone walking by.

"Pony?" He asked, leaning in close. I glanced over at the other guys who were all standing back, giving me some space.

"Yeah. I'm fine." I rubbed my eyes, sniffing and hating myself.

"It's alright, Pony. They ain't gonna hurt you no more." He assured me quietly, reaching up and ruffling my hair. He was grinning a little, and I swallowed back the lump in my throat, grinning back.

"Here." Steve came to sit on the sidewalk beside us, holding out a cigarette that he lit for me, and I took a long drag, closing my eyes on the inhale and then blowing it out. Immediately, I felt a little calmer.

"Thanks."

"Sure thing, kid. You okay?"

"Fine." Dallas and Johnny came and sat next to us on the ground with Two-Bit, all of us huddled around on the sidewalk, and a shopkeeper came out, sweeping the sidewalk in front of his store and giving us a dirty look. So now he noticed us.

"Those the same guys that got you last time?" Dallas asked, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Don't know." I shrugged. "I couldn't tell." I couldn't remember the guys from the night I'd met the gang. It had been pretty dark and I'd barely been able to see their faces. Dally grunted, looking unhappy with my answer, but I didn't have any answers.

When I finished smoking the cigarette, Sodapop was the first one up, holding out a hand. The other guys all stood as well, and I grabbed Soda's hand, letting him pull me up. "You good?" He asked softly.

"I'm good." He grinned, ruffling my hair, and we all headed back toward Soda and Darry's house, Soda's arm around my shoulder.

"Hey, what were you doing walking by yourself, kid?" Steve wondered, hands shoved in his pockets.

I lifted an eyebrow, looking from him to Two-Bit to Soda who were all apparently waiting for an answer. "What?" I asked.

"Why were you walking by yourself?" He repeated. I shook my head, still not getting it. "Why didn't you call one of us to walk with you?" He finally clarified, looking torn between amusement and irritation. I just shrugged, not sure exactly what to say to that.

"Where were you, anyway?" Two-Bit wondered. "I tried to find you after school to give you a ride, but you disappeared."

"I went to a movie," I told him, confusion obvious in my tone. What did they care?

"Next time, call someone to walk with you. You shouldn't be walking alone." Darry told me, his tone kind of sharp, but he reached out and ruffled my hair, giving me a half smile and tugging me close for a second. It was kind of annoying...I was used to doing whatever I wanted. Aaron didn't care. Neither had my grandfather or my mother. I came and went as I pleased, and I had to fight the urge to tell him that. But I knew why he was saying it...it was the first time anyone had ever cared enough to want to keep tabs on me.

"He's right. Any of us would." Two-Bit grinned, following behind us into Darry and Soda's house. Any of them would. They would come to the movie house and walk home with me. Just so no socs would bug me or jump me. And they'd come when I'd yelled for help. People had been passing on the street and driving by and working in their shops, but it had been a group of guys that had been looking after me ever since I moved in that had come to help me.

A pot of pasta was on the stove and Sodapop turned the burner on again…apparently I'd interrupted them making dinner. I started to apologize but figured he'd just wave me off, so I took a seat on the sofa when Darry prompted me to, then let him put a band-aid on a cut on my temple. He wiped my neck too, flinching.

"That's kind of deep, kiddo. You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," I assured him, grinning a little.

"Alright, Pone." He patted me on the shoulder, and Dallas and Johnny came to sit on the sofa beside me.

"I was gonna head to the movies tonight," Dally told the group. "Anyone wanna come? Pony, you sick of movies yet?" I shook my head.

"Sure, I'll come." I looked around him at Johnny who nodded.

"Me too."

"I might stop by." Two-Bit put in, holding a beer that he took a long swig of.

After dinner, I grabbed my backpack and did some homework in the room Sodapop kept saying was mine. I assumed that him and Steve were gonna go out do something…they hung out a lot, going to poker games and races and stuff. But after the others had left, I went to the kitchen to get a drink of water and passed Sodapop on the sofa, idly flipping through the channels on the TV. Darry's bedroom door was closed, so I guessed he was asleep or something. Maybe just hanging out in his room. He probably got sick of being around other people all the time. I could understand that.

I got my glass of water, grabbing a soda for Soda, holding it out as I sat beside him on the couch. "Hey. Thanks, kiddo." I shrugged.

"They're yours," I told him, and he chuckled.

"You can have one too, you know. What's mine is yours, kiddo." He took a swig of his coke then leaned in a little. "How's the…" He trailed off, gesturing toward my black eye and the rest of my face. Grinning, I shrugged again.

"It's fine." He hummed, not looking convinced.

"You want some Aspirin?"

"Nah. I'm okay." I hesitated, then sat back against the arm of the sofa so I could look at him. "You wanna come to the movies with us?"

"That's okay, kiddo." He told me, his smile soft, then turned back to the TV. "I think I'm going to hang out here, tonight." Hesitating again for a long minute, I did my best to gather some courage. I didn't butt into the personal lives of other people…even if something was bothering him, it was none of my business.

But Sodapop had butted into my life. He'd stepped in even when I hadn't wanted him too…made sure I was okay and giving me a place to stay and keeping me safe from Aaron. I also thought he might have done something to Aaron. The guy hadn't bugged me for a while…not since Sodapop had come home with bloody knuckles. Since before I'd been sick.

I took a deep breath, then another, gathering my courage, then turned back to the TV. I couldn't do it. Couldn't ask Sodapop what was wrong when it was absolutely none of my business. None. They were real nice to me but I wasn't actually family. I didn't live here. I didn't belong here. Wiping my eyes and sighing, I watched Soda flip past a game show. Sodapop had been there for me, even when I hadn't wanted him there. But I didn't want to lose him. I didn't want to offend him and then he'd start getting distant and then eventually I'd be alone again.

"Are you okay?" I practically blurted it out, then cursed at myself silently. Idiot.

"Sure, kiddo." He nudged me a little, giving me a half grin, then turned back to the TV. Of course, he didn't want to talk with me about his problems. I was just some kid that lived next door. Standing from the sofa, I gave him a weak grin.

"I'm gonna…" I gestured toward the room at the back of the house. Figuring I'd get a little more homework done before meeting Dallas and Johnny at the movies, I dropped into the desk chair and pulled out my math textbook, opening it up and flipping to the page where the assignment was.

The knock on the door made me jump, and I looked up to find Sodapop leaning in the doorway. "Hey." I put my pencil down, waiting, and Soda hesitated before heading over to my bed, dropping down on the pillows. "What's up?"

He sighed, rolling over to face me. "You, uh…you know about Sandy…my girlfriend?"

"Yeah." I nodded, confused.

"I was, um…I was gonna ask her to marry me. Not now…I mean, not until I turn eighteen and can move out. Maybe get a better job, you know?"

"Sure." I shrugged.

"I think…I think she might be seeing someone else." I felt my mouth drop open and I turned the chair to face him, leaning in as his jaw clenched real tight, his eyes on the floor.

"Are…are you sure?"

"No." He admitted, giving me a weak smile and rolling over onto his back. "She's just been acting funny, you know? Not wanting to go out. Keeps saying she has plans with her mom. And she might not be lying, you know? But…" He sighed, draping an arm over his eyes. "I don't want to confront her about it."

I stood slowly from the desk chair, heading over to the bed then sitting down beside him. Reaching out a hesitant hand, I dropped it on his shoulder, and he cracked an eye open. "I'm…I'm real sorry, Soda. That sucks." He gave me another one of those weak smiles, reaching up and patting me on the shoulder. "You sure you don't want to go to the movies with us? Or…I don't know. Go to a race or something?"

"You're a real good kid, you know that?" He asked, squeezing my shoulder. "I'm glad you moved in next door." I felt my cheeks get hot and dropped my gaze. "I'm gonna hang out here. I'll be fine, Pone. Go ahead and go to the movies. Sleep here afterwards if you want. Darry's gotta work tomorrow, but maybe we can do something." I grinned, surprised at how great that sounded.

"Sure. Sounds good."

"Alright kiddo." He sat up, patting me on the back. "Go watch your movie. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

Thank you for reading!