A/N: Hello fellow greasers! Hope you are well! Just the usual reminder to leave a lovely review, because reviews really do make my day! Here's chapter 29, I hope you enjoy it (Prepare the tissues). Stay gold. x
XxX
*3rd POV*
That was, indeed, Mary Jane"s Last Good Day. After that unforgettable night of dancing and love-making, Mary's health deteriorated rapidly. The doctor had been right. She lost her appetite and by the next Friday, she had lost ten pounds off her already skinny body and was spending most of her time sleeping in bed. Ponyboy visited her often and sometimes, the gang would come along.
By July 19, Mary became too weak to even get out of bed. Her face became hollow, her shoulders protruding, her stomach sinking in, her hands bony, her hair dull, her voice raising just above a whisper. Her aunt and uncle, Jake and Ponyboy whenever he could had to help her with everything, from going to the bathroom to showering to eating to even sitting up in bed. She couldn't even hold her head up for too long. She was slowly losing her dignity and her autonomy.
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July 22, 1966
*Mary's POV*
I knew it the moment I opened my eyes that morning. Something was going to happen today. Then, I remembered. It was Ponyboy's birthday today.
I heard the door open and saw Jake slipping into the room with a tray of food.
"Hi, Mary! Are you hungry?" he greeted. I didn't answer and he didn't feel the need to insist. He knew all too well that the answer to that question was always no.
"Jake…?" I croaked out.
"What is it, Mary?" he answered, setting the tray on my bedside table and adjusting my pillows so I could sit up.
"Where's Ponyboy?" I asked.
"He's at home, Mary. He left last night," Jake answered. "He said he'd come back tomorrow."
Jake filled a spoon with oatmeal and tried to make me eat but just the smell of food made me wrinkle my nose and turn away.
"Mary, come on, you gotta eat something," Jake said. "Just a few bites, come on, you can do this."
"I wanna see Ponyboy," I said. "It's his birthday today."
"You'll see him tomorrow, Mary, now please eat."
"No you don't understand, I really need to see him," I insisted.
"You'll see him soon, just please eat a few spoonfuls of this. I'll do whatever you want after that," Jake insisted.
I resigned. Jake slipped a spoonful of food into my open mouth repeatedly, but after only three bites, I turned my head away, nearly gagging.
"You have to eat more than that, Mary," Jake pointed out.
"Jake, I'm not eating anymore of this." I said. Jake surprisingly didn't insist.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Jake asked as he set the spoon back into the bowl in defeat.
"Call Ponyboy and get him to come over," I said.
"Mary-" he started.
"Please, Jake," I pleaded.
Jake sighed.
"Fine, I'll give him a call. Just try to get some rest," Jake said, picking up the tray and leaving the room as I laid back down, exhausted.
XxX
Ponyboy came over sometime after dinner. I got to wish him a happy birthday.
"I'm fourteen now, just like you," he said proudly as he laid down on the bed next to me.
"I'm sorry, if you had anything planned-" I started.
"Don't worry about it," he brushed it off. "Darry had to pick up extra shifts today, so we're celebrating tomorrow."
I nodded.
"Would you like me to read to you?" he offered.
I nodded again, smiling softly. I loved it when he did that. I had gotten started on To Kill a Mockingbird a few weeks ago but forgot to finish it, so since the party, whenever Ponyboy came over, he read the story to me. The book still lay on my bedside table, so Ponyboy picked it up, opened the book at the page we were at (no bookmarks needed. No idea how he does it), and continued the story from where we had left it off last night. I cuddled closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder to be able to look at the pages. We were more than halfway through last night, and for two hours, I listened to Ponyboy's deep voice, narrating the story until the very last sentence.
"And he'd be there when Jem waked up in the morning," he concluded, closing the book.
"Did you like it?" he asked.
"I loved it," I mumbled tiredly, nuzzling Ponyboy's neck and closing my eyes in content.
"The sun is setting," Ponyboy pointed out.
"Can we watch it?" I asked.
"It's not Saturday," he said, giggling slightly.
"I don't care," I answered.
"Are you sure, Mary? I mean… you can barely hold your head up," Ponyboy said, biting his lip.
"Carry me, then," I said. "Please?"
"Alright," he gave in.
He pulled himself off to bed and very carefully picked me up. I felt self-conscious. I had been thin before, but this was a completely different deal. I knew I was light as a feather, so Ponyboy could carry me effortlessly, but I also knew he could probably feel all my bones under his hands.
"You know, you're still beautiful to me," he said, as though reading my mind. I smiled.
He carried me from my bed to the small padded bench on the windowsill. He set me down gently so we were sitting one in front of the other so I could lean on his chest and I didn't have to hold my head up.
The sunset outside was beautiful, as usual. Orange, gold, red and yellow seemed to blend together in the sky as the sun went down. Somehow, I knew this was it. I knew my body couldn't take it any longer. I knew that I was going to die sometime tonight. I wanted to remember everything about this moment. The beauty of the sky, Ponyboy's arms around me, the occasional kiss on the head, and as Ponyboy recited Robert Frost's poem, "Nothing Gold Can Stay", all I could think about was how beautiful this moment was. It was gold and I wanted to remember every minute of it.
Our last sunset.
XxX
The sky had gone dark. Ponyboy had tucked me back into bed and was getting ready to leave.
"Ponyboy?" I asked.
"Yeah?" he said.
"Could you stay tonight?" I asked.
"I don't think your uncle would be alright with that, Mary," Ponyboy answered. "I can always come back early tomorrow morning if you want."
"Pony, you don't understand," I said. "I think this is it."
He took one look at me and he understood what I meant.
"Let me go ask your uncle downstairs, alright?" he said, brushing back a few strands of my dull hair. "I'll call Darry and I'll be right back, okay?"
I nodded. He left the room as I sank back into my pillows, feeling myself getting weaker by the second. I heard voices speaking downstairs, but I couldn't tell what they were saying. About fifteen minutes later, Ponyboy came back into the room.
"I called Darry, everything's fine," he explained. He went to slide into bed with his clothes on.
"You know you can take off your jeans? You'd be more comfortable," I said. "It's not like I've never seen you naked before."
He smiled at me at the memory of our night in the barn. He he took off his pants before sliding in bed right next to me, cuddling closer and wrapping his arm around my waist, our legs tangling.
"Do you need anything before we sleep?" he asked.
I shook my head, the warmth of his body providing me with comfort as I buried my face into the crook of his neck.
"Ponyboy?" I said after a moment of silence.
"Mmh?" he pulled back slightly to look at me in the eyes.
"You know you're going to be a famous writer one day?" I felt like it was important to say it. I knew, somehow, that I wouldn't get another chance.
"I'm not that good of a writer. At least not as good as I'd like," Ponyboy answered.
"But you will be," I insisted.
He didn't answer. I felt like he knew, too, that this was the last conversation we were going to have in a very, very long time.
"You know what?" I said. "I used to be angry at God for taking away my parents. I used to feel like everyone wanted to get away. And now… I'm the one going ahead."
Ponyboy didn't say anything. He had tears in his eyes.
"I'm not scared," I added, tears welling up in my eyes too. "I can be brave too, you know."
A tear fell down Ponyboy's cheek.
"I don't want you leave," he said, his voice choked up with sobs. "But you told me a few weeks ago that when the time was right, I should let you go."
I waited for what came next, tears streaming down my face.
"It is with all the love in the world that I'm letting you go."
That was the last thing we said to one another. We kissed with tenderness mixed with urgency and we cuddled as close as we could to one another until I felt his grip on me loosening up a bit. I looked up at him to see that his eyes were closed, his features soft and peaceful. His breathing was slow and regular. He was asleep.
I felt the need to remember all the details about his face. His features, his strong eyebrows, his soft lips. I wanted to remember everything. The warmth radiating from his body, the way his chest rose and fell along with his breathing, the slight curve in his arm made by his shoulder muscle as he draped his arm around me. Handsome.
As I drifted off, I had a final thought for Jake. My brother, who looked so much like me. His dark hair, defined features and blue eyes. All he had done for me in the past few months. Childhood memories flooded back and all I could think about was how much I was going to miss him.
I took one last look at the boy I had learned to love as I let myself fall into the freedom Ponyboy had given me.
XxX
July 23, 1966
*Pony's POV*
I opened my eyes and I felt it. I knew it even before I looked at her. She wasn't warm like she was last night, and she was still. Too still. It was early in the morning. I could tell from the sky outside. I looked over at the girl laying next to me.
There she was. My love. My angel. Her face struck me just like the first time we made eye contact, when I handed her her bag when she had bumped into us on her first day of school. Everything about her was gorgeous. She was probably the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. All the memories flooded back in my mind. The highs and lows, the laughs, all the sunsets we watched on the back steps of my house, but most of all, that night in the barn a few weeks ago, when we had both lost our virginity to each other.
If you took one quick look at her, you could probably think she was asleep, since she looked so peaceful. But I had looked at her for too long. She was too still. She wasn't breathing. She was gone. I willed myself not to cry as I leaned over and pressed my lips to her cold forehead, feeling a strong ache in my chest. I kissed her forhead as tenderly as I could and whispered against her skin:
"Goodbye, beautiful."
