lulusgardenfli: I'm glad you love the Parallels between the two stories -I think it adds depth to the whole thing. And I thing Johnny is most poetic in his guilt...just wait till we get to Bob's killing...hooboy.
Guest: Glad to hear it! I think you'll love this chapter!
Josh Voices Swayla Audio Fics: Don't worry we have some time before that.
RockabillyHippie: I love how invested you are! I really hope you love this chapter! Keep reviewing!
tomeii: He gets something in this chapter, I promise.
sarah0406: Yes, sneaky match making teachers are the best aren't they!
Chapter XXI
S*S
"...So let me get this straight," Cherry said slowly. Her green eyes were flared with unspoken suspicion as she stood still inside Wendy's bedroom, hands on her hips. She and Marcia had invited themselves over this Sunday afternoon as the sun dropped low. They'd just shown up on the doorstep, brought there by the rumors of Jack's impending 'date' with their friend with concern in their gazes.
And questions 'bout her sanity on their lips.
With the effectiveness of a Bolshevik firing squad, Wendy's friends had marched inside, marched her upstairs, and sat her on the bed. Marcia playing the good cop beside her and Cherry trailed fire in her wake as the bad cop; pacing the length of Wendy's floor. Meanwhile, a whirling record of the Essex playing to drown out their conversation from her brothers' prying ears.
My friends all tell me, go to him, run to him. Say sweet lovely things to him. An' teeeelll him-
"After everythin' that kid did to you, every-time ya told 'im to take a long walk off a short dock..." Cherry's arms went out, flying to opposites sides like an airplane, white palms open in irritated confusion. "Ya turn 'round an' tell 'im yes?"
Just when she felt she couldn't sink any lower. Wendy's shoulders slumped.
"...Yep," she muttered.
He's the onnnne-
"Why?" Cherry half-shouted, resuming her pacing as she ranted, temper running faster than her tongue. "Ya smarted than this Wendy! I'd expect a girl like Beth Mays t' turn on a dime when a guy been an absolute menace to her...but you!? Wendy what possessed ya-"
"Cherry, easy," Marcia intervened softly; showing her true self at the center of her nesting-doll. With something gentle under her humor, tender as she took over.
"Wendy...is there somethin' goin' on?" she asked, brown eyes careful. "Somethin'...somethin' being held over ya head?"
Flames redirected, Cherry whirled back to life. "Is it ya friend? Did they find out 'bout Johnny-"
"No," Wendy snapped, with more life in her voice than there been in days, making both her friends start. "No they haven't."
Fly to him, sigh to him, chirped and chimed Anita Humes, the main singer of Essex, tell 'im I would die for him-
Then her lip trembled, nails digging into her hands while her gaze dropped to her stocking toes.
"Don't think that it would matter now anyways," Wendy said quietly, throat burning. "He won't talk to-to me."
Because I get so timid-and-shy. Each time that I look 'im in the eye-
Both of the girls shared a quick glance, that tight wire strung through the room eased, softened to a ribbon. Albeit, with some confusion.
"Johnny...Johnathan Cade?" Marcia questioned, eyes round with a 'hold up' expression. Like a chocolate lab puppy, she gazed from Cherry to Wendy and back again, clearly recombobulating. "That...that quiet lil' guy, with the jean jacket? Dark eyes?"
"Black," Wendy corrected, hand raising up to touch her cross on her throat. "He...he has black eyes."
Warm, lit with embers when he was quietly happy...frozen and blank, when he was hurting.
Cherry and Marcia swapped a look again. And the redhead softly sat down on the smaller girl's other side.
"...Wendy..." Cherry said, looking like she was trying very hard to say the right thing, as she stirred the conversation back on course. "...Why'd ya agree to go on a date, Jack?"
And teeeelll him...he's the onnnne-
Well that was the million-dollar question, wasn't it, Wendy thought bitterly. Why did she feel so inarticulate, so powerless; reduced to flailing her arms around like an infant about to throw a crying fit? Wailing in helplessness, the unfairness.
But Wendy knew why. Cause the answer -the true answer- would decimate any remaining peace she had at home, school...any place.
There was no portion of Wendy's life where her sister couldn't rip it all to shreds. And she could too. Wendy had seen Connie do so to a number of girls who'd fallen out of her favor -or crossed her path the wrong way...rumors and malice combined to be more deadly, more than any jumping. Before Mama died, there had been a restraint, a limit of control, that Con kept over this side of her...
But now...now...
Now Connie didn't seem to find any difference when she lashed out. And there was no Mama to snap her back into place.
"I figured...I figured ignoring him wasn't working, telling him no didn't that if I did, he'd get bored and leave me alone," Wendy muttered awkwardly, the lie sounding lamer out-loud than it did in her head.
The looks on Cherry's and Marcia's faces only confirmed this. Cherry was clearly gearing up for one of her ego-smashing lectures, that Marcia quickly intercepted by bopping up like a teacher -actually doing a dang good impression of Mr. Syme in how she purposely arranged her stance, making Wendy's mouth tug.
"Okay then...if bored outta his mind is what ya'll going for, then we can do that," Marcia said with forced perkiness. "Here's the plan-"
And all in all, Wendy had to admit it was a pretty good plan...possibly the only good plan she'd ever heard of that involved absolutely nothing. She didn't wash up for the date, she didn't change into something fresh. Gosh, she didn't even brush her hair. And something defiant and intransigent was strengthening in her.
Alright, thanks to Connie and her own word, there wasn't any getting out of this...but that didn't mean she had to pretend to enjoy it.
Plus, in case things truly got unbearable, Cherry briskly suggestion a sleep-over at her house, so Wendy had an excuse to call the date off at whatever time it was.
I got a love so true, but I'm sad and blue. Cause it's easier, easier, said-than-done.
"Well hon...ya look perfectly unexcited!" Marcia chimed brightly, as the three of them stood in-front of Wendy's mirror.
Her mouth twitched. "Thanks...really."
Marcia squeezed her hand. "No problem, Wendy. What are friends for?"
Easier-er-er-er, said than done. Duhduhduh.
S*S
That faint trickle of good mood sputtered and died when five-forty rolled around, and Jack was at her front door to pick her up. The first he did when Wendy opened the door was to furrow his brow, glance her over up and down once, with 'what the hell's she's wearing?' plaster all over his face. Though to his credit, he didn't say it. And to be fair, that was the effect she'd been going for, in her plain white dress and blue sweater, so it really shouldn't have made her feel so un-pretty...
Really.
Wendy sighed, though it came out as a groan. Here we go.
"Her Wendy, you...uh...ready?" he said with a faint suggestion in his tone, like she might want to run back upstairs for her make-up. Hmph.
Wasn't like he was dressed for the Taj Mahal himself, Wendy noted wryly, holding her clutch, filled with emergency money. So she look him in eye and chimed a false sounding, "Yep."
Which left him with no choice but to bring them over to his car -mustang like Bob's, though his was yellow- and open the door for her.
Wendy closed her eyes. Ice Cream. It was just ice cream. She'd be home before she knew it.
S*S
And when they pulled up to Three Scoops, they met with a host of dissatisfied kids, all grumbling before the hastily taped sign on the sliding window, declaring the ice cream machine was broken and undergoing repairs.
Feeling like she could hop on the car-top and dance the can-can, Wendy turned to declare the date a bust, when Jack beat her to the draw.
"Great!" he beamed winningly. "We can check out the new movie at the drive-in!"
...And since Wendy fumbled to come up a reason why they shouldn't go -to the dive in they went.
Dang-it.
That new movie wasn't any good either - it had no plot and the main draw was the beach scenes with lots of girls in bikinis. Jack like it just fine, but Wendy could feel her IQ points dropping as minutes ticked by. Her bad mood soured further when she glanced at her watch...as saw it was only half an hour to eight, and the dinner she surely was no longer invited to anyways...but...but still.
Her chin quivered.
But apparently, the universe wasn't done telling Wendy how much it hated her. Cause then it had Prescare shuffling closer to her, slowly at first, but then more deliberate. Which made Wendy sit up and cross her arms over her chest, while her legs twined together. Tense and inviolable.
If it had been any more apparent she didn't want to touch or be touched, she would've had it flashing over her head like a neon sign.
Prescare missed the memo. Or maybe he just didn't care. But the moment his hand settled on her knee, Wendy was halfway out of the car.
"Where are ya goin'?!" he cried out disbelievingly, following her out.
"To get popcorn," she answered sourly, huffing the first thing to come to mind, snapping it over her shoulder. Jack stared after her for a moment, before angry blowing hot air and striving off for Bob and the boys, parked a few cars away. They were drinking, clearly already drunk, and Jack seemed content to join 'em...reducing Wendy's chances of coming back to zero.
Wonderful...but now...she didn't have a way to get home.
Wonderful, she groaned again. She didn't stop her pace till she was near the concession line, filled with Greasers and Socs glaring and shouting rude things to each other. And Wendy was sick of it. She thought of her family, languished and splintered without Mama. She thought of Johnny...tried and battered. Wasn't life hard enough, without adding more troubles to the world?
But there had to be...had to be...just someplace where people were just...people.
Plain, ordinary people. Who went to work, loved their families, and didn't hurt each other.
She huffed, a strange tugging sensation climbing up her heart to her throat, then her eyes. She hastily wiped them. Well, if there was such a place, it wouldn't be one ya got to by boat...or a plane...or the rumbling rails of a train...no. It was far, far away. Beyond the moon...and the rain.
The closest Wendy had ever gotten to it, was in the notes of her mother's songs.
She shook her head, blinked again, pulling her sweater closer in the brisk November air, the breath of her life nipping her nose in silvery-white lace.
"A coke, please," a raspy autumn tone sounded to her right. Snapping her head up, dark coal eyes met hers, widening in surprise just as hers were, to see each other there. After all, why wasn't he at the Curtis'? It had to be near dinnertime. The concern bubbled up in her, but before she could ask, Johnny's eyes fell away, and he started to turn, drink in hand.
Wendy didn't remember her brain giving the feet the order, but somehow she was at Johnny's side, her hand softly arresting his wrist. Holding till he stopped and looked at her with naked startlement.
"We need to talk," she said trembling. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. The steel in her resolved must've been apparent as Johnny searched her gazed, nodded once, and allowed her to pull him around the back of the concession stand under a distorted crab apple tree, littered with the butts of cigarettes and candy wrappers -not the place for a serious talk, but beggars can't be choosers.
"...Well we're here, Wendy," Johnny ventured carefully, after a moment, something cautious in his gaze -like the thought had crossed his mind that she might grow claws and tear 'im to shreds. "What ya wanna talk 'bout?"
Wendy swallowed a breath, forcing herself to square her shoulders. "Why are you ignoring me?"
Johnny's face twitch and his teeth hissed -he looked very much like he rather skip that question as he shuffled.
"I'm not...really...I mean..." he muttered, shrugging a shoulder under his jean jacket. "Ya weren't talkin' to me either-"
"Only cause you weren't talking to me," Wendy cried, at to their mutual horror, her eyes got shiny again. "I don't know why either -Whatever I did wrong I'm s-s-sorry-"
Johnny's hand grabbed at his bangs, eyes going a million miles an hour. "No Wen, ya didn't -I mean, it was- I was -I was having a bad day and -I'm sorry Wendy, please don't-"
"So I wasn't mad at you...you weren't mad at me...and we gave each other the cold shoulder over a misunderstanding?" Wendy laughed, high and bitter, uncaring as to what she was saying -everything just spilling out. "Well, that's perfect isn't it? I get Conned -pun intended- into this stupid date, with the biggest ignoramus this side of Oklahoma! Who, by the way, has to be the worse date in the long sad history of bad dates! He doesn't care what anyone's wants, he doesn't read body language, and I've never felt so un-pretty in all my life-"
S*S
In the midst of all this deluge, Johnny had listened silently, processing most of it in, though some of it didn't no sense to him -what the heck was an ignor...ignor...what-it?- He heard Ponyboy use that word before, but the meaning escaped him.
But what Wendy declared next rang loud and clear -and totally, absolutely false. So false he couldn't stay silent, no matter that the truth was only muttered to his mud-cased sneakers.
"I think ya really pretty, Wendy."
S*S
Anything she had to say next sputtered and died in her mouth once the fallen leaves of Johnny's murmur hit her ears; ember-lit, ember-warm, veined with thin lines of gold. Just as easily as Pescare's once over had made her so un-pretty, this small compliment set a crown of twelve stars on her brow.
Johnny turned red the moment he realized she'd heard him; shuffling as his eyes darted away, then back to her, naked beyond any removal of clothing. Naked as Adam when he first realized he now had Eve.
And was no longer alone.
"...Johnny?" she called softly, more softly than she'd ever used her voice before, almost the kind you'd used for family, but not quite. Whatever it was, it must've been the right tone, cause those coals for eyes meet hers, teetering in the middle of allowing warmth or freezing her out.
She swallowed, hand pushing one strand of hair behind her ear. "Do...do you really think I'm pretty?"
Johnny got redder and glanced down a moment. He waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning fork that had been struck upon a star. She didn't hear it, but he must've 'cause it gave him the courage to lift his head, and nod more confidently, coal-eyes ablaze with warmth.
"Heck Wendy," he said, shy but almost smiling, lips quirked and lopsided. "I think you're beautiful."
The word burned soft between them, sweet-scented with a hundred things left unsaid under it. Wendy's curled knuckle flew up to her mouth, pressing against the giggle that wanted to fly from her mouth; the corners lifting up like her shoulders, as joy squirmed through her like fairy dust.
Think of the happiest things...its the same as having wings...and it was, it really, really, was. It was a minor miracle her feet stayed on the ground.
Johnny was laughing to a little. Almost in disbelief, that he was here, that he had said what he did...and that she was here to hear it.
"...Thank you," she finally said, glowed, fingers tangled with themselves, heel turning in the dirt and gravel of the lot.
Johnny nodded and seem to stand a little taller, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket.
"'Welcome Wendy," he said before clearing his throat and rolling his shoulders. "Ah...if ya wanna...I...I could still take ya by the Curtis' for that dinner, if ya -"
"Yes," Wendy jumped for the offer, grabbing it with greedy fingers. She blushed. "Yes...I'd like that."
Gaze on the ground, she only heard the crush of the gravel, until Johnny's sneakers appeared beside her flats.
"Wendy?..."
Taking a breath she lifted her chin and met his eyes.
"Yeah?"
"Ready to go?"
Slowly, carefully, Wendy allowed herself to smile. "Yeah."
She wasn't sure how it happened -did she reached for him, he reached for her?- Well one or the other, 'cause in the next moment her fingers were shielded between his own -a soft olive and deep tan. And even as they left behind the lights of the movie lot, she could see Johnny grinning quietly, pleasantly.
She reddened but smiled herself.
Oh let him.
Next chapter...the dinner! Tell me if you want Soda's famous blue spaghetti to make an appearance...Ps. if anyone living in eastern Oklahoma now...my condolences. Stay safe.