Chapter Twenty-Four: Wild Thing
Carla definitely couldn't take Gerry Lowenthal to Soda's party, but we still planned to get ready together on Saturday. He was taking her to a movie at Rusty's that night. Once, it had been total Soc territory out there, but the Dingo burned down over the summer, and now it was kind of a free for all. Privately, I worried about Carla going out there, but she was a smart girl. Plus, she could almost pass for a Soc, with the right clothes.
Carl came over early in the afternoon, with the sole intention of laying around and mooning over our dates for a couple of hours. With Mama getting ready for another Saturday night at work, and Two-Bit mysteriously put of the house - again - I was glad for her company. Beth and Nancy dropped by too, so by two o'clock, it was a house full of greaser girls.
"So you really mean to tell me that you and Ponyboy ain't even kissed yet?" Beth howled with laughter, sprawled out across my bed, legs crossed and swinging her feet in the air.
Carla, who was sitting Indian-style on the rug and leaning against the bed, grinned. "Aw, come on, Beth. Rosie's in looooove. She's takin' things slow. You even know what that means?"
"Is that when he's gotta be careful not to make the car shake?"
I laughed so hard, cigarette smoke went up my nose and made me choke. Nancy, on the other hand, turned a deep scarlet, all the way down to her chest.
There was a knock at the door. Considering just about everybody I knew was currently in my bedroom, my eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as I stood.
Nancy looked out the window and gasped. "It's Angela Shepard!"
"Hope it's not another fight she's looking for. My lip is just barely healed up," I griped.
"You want us to go with you?" Carla asked.
"Naw, I got this one," I replied coolly. "I'll holler if I need y'all."
Grabbing my fresh pack of Kools, I headed down the hallway, past Mom's radio, blaring the Ronnettes, to the living room, and opened the front door.
Sure enough, it was Angela Shepard standing there. She'd tied her hair back, and it somehow made her face look even more strikingly beautiful. Even with her bright red lipstick, though, there was something in Angela's dark blue eyes that looked... lost.
It was funny, but for a second, Angela Shepard looked just like Johnny Cade standing on my doorstep, all those years ago.
When I finally recovered from my shock - which I'm sure was written all over my face - I leaned against the door frame and said, "Hi, Angela."
"Hey, Rosalie," she replied, her sad, dark eyes darting all over my face. Probably assessing my injuries, which were mostly healed after a few days. "Can we talk for a second?"
"Sure. But we'd probably better do it in the backyard, so nobody sees you out here and pulls a blade on you," I said matter-of-factly.
Her tanned face went a little pale, but Angela nodded. Her bruises were faded now too.
We walked around the side of the house to the scraggly, bare backyard. Grass hadn't really grown out there since I was a kid. There were a few patches here and there, but mostly just a lot of Oklahoma dust. Once, Mama had liked taking care of the yard, when she had time to. I'd managed to keep her roses bushes out front alive for the past several years, but the backyard was a different story.
"Well, I'd tell ya to have a seat, but all I have to offer is a patch of dirt. You want a cigarette?"
"Yeah, sure," Angela agreed. Her hand was shaking as I tossed her one.
"So I'm assumin' this ain't a social visit," I said after we lit up.
Angel sighed, smoothing a hand over the top of her ponytail. She looked like she wanted a hole to open up in the ground and swallow her. "You and me really ain't that different, you know."
I cocked an eyebrow up, waiting for her to continue.
"I mean, we both got tuff older brothers, tough reputations, good looks, a bunch of friends," she explained, her voice halting and hitching every few words. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the girl was about to cry. "But the difference is, you don't fight to keep it, and I do. I think sometimes that's why I work so hard to make sure everybody thinks I'm the meanest bitch on the Eastside, 'cause you don't have to try at all."
"That's because I don't want to be the meanest bitch on the Eastside," I replied flatly. "You can have that title all you want."
Angela hit her cigarette, exhaling quickly. "You really don't care what they think about you?"
"Sometimes," I admitted with a shrug. "Not so much now, though. I found people whose opinions really matter to me, ya know? You should too."
She laughed, but it was bitter and humorless. "Nobody really gives a damn about me, Rosalie."
"That's 'cause nobody really knows you, Angela."
Oh glory, she really was crying now. She wiped under her eyes impatiently, a gesture I was so familiar with; greasers didn't cry. Even though we were the ones who needed it the most, who had seen the worst. Even though crying for a few days straight had helped me let go of a lot of hurt.
I felt bad for Angela. I never expected to, but I did.
"Aw, hell, Angel, I'll be your friend, as long as you don't punch me in the face or try to steal my boyfriend," I said, tossing my cigarette butt into the yard.
She sniffed. "Why would you wanna be friends with me?"
I grinned at her. "Because you're right. You and me ain't so different. Go home and cry it out, Angel. I'll see you Monday morning."
Despite her tears, Angela's makeup still looked perfect, her red lips flawless as she raised them in a soft smile. "You mean it?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Okay," she grinned tentatively. "See you then."
I walked her around front, waving goodbye as she headed down the sidewalk. I knew my friends were watching from the window. Hell, it wouldn't surprise me if Ponyboy was watching too, from his own front window down the street. That's part of why I gave her my best Matthews' grin.
As soon as I went back into my bedroom, Carla demanded, "What the hell was that all about?"
"We're friends now," I said simply.
"Friends? With Angela Shepard?" Beth practically squealed, her voice went up so high.
"Yeah. She's a greaser girl too, you know, just like us. We gotta stick together, ya know?" I returned to my spot in the chair by the window, my favorite perch in the whole house.
Carla shook her head, but she was smiling. "Rosalie Lucille Matthews, you are somethin' else, you know that?"
I opened the window and lit another cigarette. I didn't know what to say to that one.
After Mama left, Beth turned my radio on, and we began to actually prepare for your night. Nancy and Beth were both going to Soda's party, even if they didn't have dates. Nance had even lied to her mama for the occasion.
Mrs. Vernon had found me a gorgeous red velvet dress with long bell sleeves that kind of looked like the one that Ponyboy had admitted to admiring at the winter dance a couple years ago. After we left Vernon's, Carla and I stopped by the drugstore on Sutton, so I could steal my own tube of red lipstick. It was called Ravishing Red, and I certainly felt ravishing with it on.
We were all dressed and mostly just goofing around, dancing along to Wild Thing, when there was a knock on my bedroom door.
"That better be my good-for-nothing big brother!" I hollered, before opening the door.
It was my big brother. And he was wearing a black shirt with the DX logo embroidered on one side, and Keith on the other.
"Holy shit, you got a job?" I gasped.
"Nah, I decided to dress like Sodapop for the occasion," he quipped.
"That's where you've been all week..." I said slowly, realization dawning upon me. "Gosh, Two-Bit, I'm so damn proud of you. I feel faint. Good Lord."
He rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. "Yeah, yeah. Listen, any of you little harlots need to get into the bathroom? 'Cause I'd like to wash the smell of gasoline off before this party. I don't reckon Wanda would like it too much."
"I'm not a harlot," Nancy yelled, her eyes still on her reflection in my mirror.
"You just hang out with harlots, then, honey," he cackled.
"Go wash your ass, shithead."
"Only for Wanda, not 'cause you told me to."
He winked before he closed the door. I sat on the bed after he left, staring at my Mary Janes.
"Friends with Angela Shepard, getting ready for a date with Ponyboy Curtis, Two-Bit with a job. Life sure has changed for you, huh, Rosie?" Carla asked. Her tone was joking, but her hazel eyes were soft and sweet.
"All good things, all good things," I said, standing up again. "What time is it, anyhow?"
"Almost six o'clock," Nancy said.
"Ah, hell, Ponyboy should be here in half an hour. Have y'all seen my perfume?"
Beth hollered back with a grin, "He's really coming to pick you up? Should we pretend like we ain't here?"
"He can probably hear you all the way at his house right now, Beth," I grumbled.
"Hey, he knew what he was signing up for when he asked you out," Nancy pointed out. "The prettiest greaser on the Eastside comes with loud friends and an addiction to Kools. He knew what he was getting into."
I blushed, but Carla immediately shot back, "Now, listen, he's addicted to Kools too. They won't mind the taste when they kiss, 'cause they'll both taste like a damn ashtray."
"Listen to you, gettin' mouthy!" I feigned shock, but my giggle gave me away. "That Socy boyfriend raisin' your standards, Caroline Ann?"
"I've always had high standards, thank you."
We all dissolved into giggles. I sure did like my loud friends. (And my Kools, Carla be damned.)
A/N: Well, y'all, this next chapter coming up will be the last one for this story. I feel like Rose's current story is wrapped up to the best of my ability at this time. I am working a sequel of sorts called East of Eden that takes place in the summer of 1971, and I hope y'all enjoy that. Please review and let me know what you think!