I don't own anything associated with The Outsiders, except my copy of the book I bought a really long time ago, and the movie I bought on VHS, and the updated version of the movie on DVD which while I like all the extra footage, I don't really care for the new soundtrack. Sounds like they are all on acid, but that's just my opinion. And I really think they should have put in the footage of Pony defending himself against the car load of Soc's that pulled up when Two-Bit and Steve were inside getting whatever they were getting, leaving Pony to bust his Pepsi bottle to defend himself. Afterall, it showed Pony had developed a sense of self reliance, and wasn't gonna take their crap anymore. A big, big important part of the book that I think should have been in the movie. Well, off my soap box and on with my story....

Chapter 38

Mathmatical Improbabilities

Classes had started weeks ago, and I was knee deep in math. Formulas and equations I had only heard of in my old classes back in Tulsa came back to me here. I was doing okay so far, upper "B's", but this wasn't what I thought it would be like. Still, as long as I was passing and doing my best, I couldn't complain. The professor explained that summer sessions taught the whole twelve week curriculum in only eight weeks, so it's all accelerated. I hoped when I had a full course of classes in the fall, the pace would slow up some, but I doubted it.

Going to college was an experience in itself. I always had looks not only from other students in the class, but also from the professors. "Are you lost, son," was one comment that came out the most.

"No, not lost, just going to class, thanks," was my response. Most folks left it at that, but some would ask my age. I'd look them point blank in the eye and say "eighteen." In reality, I was going to turn seventeen next month, and wasn't sure how to celebrate it.

At home, birthdays were always special events, before mom and dad died and even more so after. They went the extra mile to let us know how much we were important to them, and after we lost them we used our own special days to spend it together, just the three of us, to reaffirm how much we meant to each other. We knew all to well, unfortunately, how quickly we could be gone. And now, Soda was gone too.

I wished I could be with Darry, let him know I did this for him, to give him that chance back that he lost. It tortured me to think he was hurting at my leaving, it really ate me up, but it was a catch twenty two. If I go back, or call, or write, he would stop going to school, stop moving on with his life and make me come back. His freedom would be gone again. He would trace the calls, find the postmarks on the letters or somehow hunt me down until he found me and brought me home again. It went round and round in my head, but never did I find a solution. So I prepared to spend the first birthday of my life alone.

My mailbox had a notice in it from George. "Please go to Window," it said.

"Hey George. I got your note. What's up?"

"Oh, Michael, glad you're here. These came for you and won't fit into your box." He handed me a tub filled with familiar envelopes. My manuscripts. Of the eight I sent out, seven had been returned.

"Thanks, George. Sorry 'bout the hassle."

"No hassle, Michael. Hope these aren't all love letters!" He was teasing me.

"Now George, I only have so much time in the day!" I laughed as I picked up the tub and carried it out to my car. Once back at my apartment, I started opening them up. Seven nicely typed rejection letters. They all said it in a different way, but it was the same message none-the-less. I sighed, well it was too good to be true, I thought. I put all the manuscripts in a box and shoved it under my bed. Moving on....

I did the best I could in that math class, and it wasn't easy. The professor did a great job of explaining the formulas and gave us plenty of work to study on. The month just flew by, and it was July before I knew it.

"Michael... Michael Curtis?" I was trying to remember stuff about the hypotenuse of the triangle when my name, being called for what had to have been the tenth time finally broke into my thoughts and got my attention. I had been sitting under a tree, math book in my lap, working on my homework.

"Yes...yes sir, Dr. Benning. What can I do for you?"

"Michael, do you have a few minutes? I need to see you in my office if you have the time."

"Sure, sir." I juggled my books back into my bag and followed him back to the art department.

"Hey dad, can I go to the student center now?" Some young lady was in Dr. Benning's office, and by her words I knew it was his daughter. She looked at me and blushed, smiling, then turned away.

"Alright, Ashley, but come back in an hour so we can leave on time. Understand, young lady?"

"Yes sir," she mumbled, and passed by me on the way out. I watched her leave, then returned my attention to Dr. Benning.

"Seventeen year olds. They take the cake." He said out loud, but I wasn't exactly sure if it was to me.

"Sir?" I asked. He looked up then and smiled.

"Oh, nothing Michael. But take my advice, don't have daughters! Now, what I wanted to talk with you about is that Eagle drawing you did for me. Is that all you can draw, or is there anything else?"

"I can draw almost anything, sir, given adequate time of course."

"Do you have a portfolio with all your work in it?"

"I have all my work in sketch pads, not in a portfolio per se."

"Would you be willing to bring them in, let me look at them. Perhaps let a few others see your work?"

"I suppose I could. Why?"

He smiled at me, then indicated for me to sit down. I did and he sat behind me his desk.

"I have a friend, a writer of children's books who has been looking for an illustrator to help liven up his stories. He has three books on the market, but they aren't doing very well. His publisher has suggested an illustrator to liven up his work... give him an edge. I'd like him to meet you. Your work is fresh, clean and uncomplicated. I took the liberty of showing your Eagle drawing to him, and he liked it. What do you say?"

I was speechless. "Um, okay, I'll talk to him. When?"

"This Friday at eleven. Is that okay with you?"

"I get out of class at ten. That'll be fine."

"Good. Don't forget to bring your work. See you on Friday." He stood up and held out his hand. I shook it then left. I still wasn't sure what that was all about.

"So, you're Michael?" A quiet voice pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up to see Dr. Benning's daughter sitting on a bench outside the art department.

"Yes ma'am. Michael Curtis." I just looked at her. She had sandy blond hair that she wore in a ponytail and hazel eyes, slender figure and long slender fingers. If she wore make-up, I couldn't tell.

"Ashley Benning. Daddy's been talking nonstop about that Eagle drawing you did. I saw it, it's really good."

"Thanks." I smiled, looking down. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't used to talking to girls, especially nice girls. "You go to school here too?"

She smiled and looked down, blushing some. "No, I'm only seventeen, still in high school. I'm a senior, starting twelfth grade this fall."

"Oh." More silence. I didn't miss the fact that she and I were practically the same age and by all rights, I should be a senior in high school this year too. "So, you liked my drawing?"

She looked at me, nodding. "I do. The colors were very clean, and I've never seen such detail in hand drawn feathers before. Daddy loved it, heard him telling mom it was uncanny talent." She was quiet for a minute, then tilted her head slightly and asked me what everyone else had. "You're really a student here? You just don't seem old enough."

"Yeah, I'm really a student here, first year." I just didn't want to lie to her.

Just as I was starting to get over my nervousness about talking with her, the door opened and Dr. Benning came out.

"Ashley, ready for lunch?" he called to her, smiling.

She got to her feet. She was almost as tall as I was, shorter by only a few inches.

"Yes sir," she said to him. Then she turned to me and smiled, saying, "It was nice meeting you, Michael. Perhaps we can talk later?"

"Yeah, I'd like that." I stepped back to let her by and watched her and Dr. Benning walk off toward the faculty parking lot.

I wasn't sure which I felt better about, that the art professor was so impressed by my drawing that he showed it to others, including a published author; or that I actually managed to speak to a girl my age who didn't look down on me as if I were dirt, didn't fling herself on me like all the tramps used to with Soda, and was actually interested in my work.

So far, college definitely looked like it was going to be full of new experiences, much different from high school. I picked up my bag and headed for the student parking lot, ready to head home.

XXX

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Calla Lilly rose