civilwarrose: Thank you! I'm glad you found this story too. I love your Romanov works!
HappierThanMost: Love to have you back! I hope you keep reading!
Frau Bielschmidt: Thank you for a wonderful review! Yes, I like to fully establish my characters and all their quirks.
bookgirl18: Um huh, right on the money, hope you like this chapter!
sarah0406: We'll have to see where it goes...
Riariabookworm: You wanted Dallas? You'll get Dallas.
tomeii: Tell me about it...
Chapter XXII
S*S
The streets of Tulsa were different at night, breathed in shades of the Forget-Me-Not. Blue and black with silver-sheen in the sickle light of the moon; reflecting from windows and off of cars as Johnny navigated their way through his world.
Once they crossed the boundary imposed by the railroad tracks, there was a different change -in the environment, the hints of the local lifestyle. Litter and glass coated the gutter, car parts rested unevenly in yards, and most windows had bars on them. And she'd bet that all the crooked doors were very firmly locked.
She walked a little closer to Johnny.
So this was the east side of town.
Unreasonably worried that she'd get separated and lost in this strange Wonderland -and while she could probably find her way home in the daytime, she had no chance of it at night- Wendy tighten the knot she and Johnny had made of their hands. He squeezed back, reassuringly, a flame of a smile twitching his lips warmly, and Wendy felt it all the way to her toes.
When they turned a corner, the sounds of rowdy boy-laughter and rough jokes came from the house she and Connie had dropped Johnny off at the other day -golden light sweepingly out its windows like its walls simply couldn't hold it all it.
She recognized some of the voices -Two-Bit and Steve Randle, Ponyboy and Darry Curtis. Along with their father. But the rest were strangers. Or nearly so. And her stomach knotted up in the way it always does for people when they realized they hadn't thought something the whole way through.
She stopped just before entering the Curtis' gated yard.
"...Um," she fumbled, shuffling in the walkway. The embers in Johnny's eyes lit up knowingly. "Nervous?" he guessed without really guessing, a slight drawl to this tone.
"A little," Wendy admitted. "This how you felt? At my house?"
Johnny breathed out a short laugh. Gave her hand a fond tug. "Like ya wouldn't believe," he answered. And that was enough to settle a strange calm over her stomach, settle into stillness at the bottom of a river.
Johnny cocked an eyebrow. "Ready?"
She nodded.
"Ready."
S*S
Or so she thought. Johnny went in first, setting off a rousing cheer of welcome when the guys at the table saw him -which puttered out in surprise when she followed him over this second threshold -not rudely, just...baffled. They sat up straighter in their chairs, Ponyboy rising out of his slightly, to look over the heads of his larger brother, craning his neck. Steve Randle's beer-holding hand was paused halfway to his mouth, and Two-Bit whooped, slapping his hand down on his thigh.
"Well, I'll be damn this side'a hell, Johnnycakes did it!" he hooted, making Johnny roll his eyes fondly, even if his neck redden a bit. Wendy felt her own mouth twitch shyly, glad to have one true welcome.
Though...when she followed Johnny's flick of his eye to its next target, she saw that one boy had remained utterly still, like a lynx over prey. He was tow-haired, cold-eyed, hard-faced, his St. Christopher medal out of place with all this raw iconography. Especially when that blistering gaze settled on Johnny's hand, still encased around her own.
Oh.
Wendy didn't need an introduction. This was Dally. And he looked every bit as mean as Connie. And from the way Johnny subtly matched his look -while trying to stand straighter- Dallas Winston probably occupancy that very same role in his life.
Wendy just hoped he treated Johnny better than Con treated her.
S*S
Then she huffed inwardly. Cause objective speaking, that wouldn't be a hard bar to reach. At all. There was the sound of a sink turning off in the kitchen, and the golden-haired lady from the summer booth came into the room, her husband very close behind her. While her hair matched Soda, her eyes were her youngest son's, and Wendy knew this was the Mrs. Curtis Johnny so revered.
"Johnny, I thought you said ya weren't coming' this..." Mrs. Curtis exclaimed, quickly. Then she seemed to take note of Wendy beside him and had her eyes lighting up in sheer delight.
"And is this who I think it is...?" she hummed out slyly, smiling a little too angelic-like.
Johnny and Wendy both opened their mouths, and Mr. Curtis took the words from it.
"Sure is Molls," he chuckled, sauntering over into the slightly crowded hallway. He tipped his baseball cap. "Nice to see you again Wendy."
She reddened herself and smiled back.
"You too, Mr. Curtis."
The patriarch of the house grinned all the wider and slapped his brown hands together. "All right then, you kids sit down at that table and Soda will bring in the spaghetti-"
Hearing this, Johnny's brow began to furrow in no small concern. But Wendy blinked, once more getting that Twilight Zone feeling -spaghetti again? Then she mentally shrugged -well it was a quick and pleasant meal. So she and Johnny went to the table, and she found herself seated between her friend and the Curtis Matriarch, crossing her ankles and pumping her foot as questions started coming as china was set before her.
"Are you really a Soc?" Pony asked curiously, head cocked as he looked at her. Like he was trying to fit Wendy to the image he'd formed in his head. For her part, Wendy just shrugged amiably.
"Well, you could say so I guess-"
"-Of course she is," Dally's hard voice boomed, bombarding them from the other end -making them all jump slightly. He leaned forward, lip curled in bored disdained. "Don't her clothes just scream she's Daddy's little rich girl?"
Pony seemed to shrink a few inches into his seat, scooting a little closer to his father who was giving Dally one devil of a warning look -like the one Wendy would give the twins when they acted up. Only this was a lot more serious in the consequences they promised. Winston didn't seem to give a damn, though his tune sure changed when Mrs. Curtis shook her golden head, green eyes sadden.
"Oh Dallas," she sighed. "I supposed it was too much to ask for a quiet dinner."
Winston scowled like he was chewing a rotten lemon. But like King Kong with Ann Darrow, the quiet rebuttal dumped a gallon on the tension and made him slink back into his cave. Content to watch the shadows dance on the wall, displaying what he didn't understand.
Johnny was watching him too, but Wendy couldn't read his face -he had that look again, the one that prevented her from looking in his eyes.
Ponyboy seemed to have lost his nerve for questions, so Mrs. Curtis did her best to start the ball rolling again. Questions about her family, school, if she was the girl who'd visited their booth in the summer -and so on, and so on.
"So Wendy -" Mrs. Curtis started again, though her voice was drowned by her husband's flat monotone.
"Pepsi-Cola what-in-the-hell did ya do to that there spaghetti?"
Well, naturally, that had them all looking over -getting the same view of a sheepish Sodapop holding a bowl of honest-to-goodness blue spaghetti -sky blue, right down to the sauce.
"I...uh...thought it be a good pick me up for Johnnycakes," the middle Curtis explained, with a kinda side grin, like he was hopin' it would get 'im out of trouble. He set the spaghetti down and looped over to his spot, still grinning, through he reached for his hair.
"Jesus Christ, Soda," Darry muttered in disbelief under his breath, shaking his head like this had undone him, fingers rubbing his temples.
"Feel like I'm on an acid trip," Two-Bit remarked, taking care not to let Mrs. Curtis hear, as Darry slide his hand in a sharp cutting motion. Though Wendy doubted she would've heard anyhow. Mrs. Curtis was stating in abject horror at what apparently was their dinner.
"Oh Soda," she breathed, in the absolute worse way a mother could. Far worse than if she'd hollered at him. And from the way Soda flinched -ever so slightly- he felt it. And Wendy flinched with him. Before she'd even thought about it, she was reaching over, and shoving some of the stuff onto her plate.
The table stared at her. So she offered a shy smile and timid shrug of her shoulders.
"I guess Johnny told you blue was my favorite color, huh Sodapop?" she covered with easy practice. And the wheat-hair boy's looked at her gratefully as he gave willing affirmation.
Of course, that left Wendy with the task of putting her words where her mouth was...literally. Refusing to let herself think about it, she twined up a forkful and chomped it down.
"Not bad," she determined, pleasantly surprised. She shoved some more out for herself before picking up the bowel and looking around the table, at the open-mouthed boys.
"Okay, who wants some?"
For a second, nobody moved. Then Johnny shoved his plate out.
"Me, Wen," he offered quietly, and she gave him some. Curiosity getting the better of him meant that Pony was next, followed by Two-Bit with a "what the hell?". Soda took a big thankful helping too. Which meant Steve took some along for solidarity. Darry just shook his head with his mother when his father did likewise, and proclaimed that they were all nuts.
Honestly, Wendy would have to agree, but that didn't seem to be such a sin.
Mr. Curtis cocked an eyebrow.
"Seems to run in this family," he remarked, apparently in agreement.
S*S
Unfortunately, fun as the blue spaghetti turned out to be, it was murder trying to scrub the dye off the plates -as Wendy and Mrs. Curtis very quickly found out.
"Really, hon, ya'll don't have to-"
"It fine," Wendy insisted absently, tongue sticking out as she rubbed her rag hard as she dared on the delicate pastoral scene displayed on the plate.
Aside from bringing their plates to the sink, the boys had moved on to the living room, having no inclination to help -well, if you don't count Two-Bit pouring beer on his blue plate to try and get the stains off. Needless to say, the ladies had quickly shooed him away.
Men didn't really belong in the kitchen anyhow -Mama had always been very firm about that. It's a voman's duty to love everyone and anyone who sets foot in her house chey -the best way to do that is to make sure everyone is fed.
So Wendy didn't mind and despite her protest, Mrs. Curtis seemed near giddy to have a helper at her side -being the only lady in a house of...one...four...eight guys surely got tiresome at times.
But even as she chatted pleasantly with her host, sometimes a strange sort of tingle would tap-dance across her skin, ripple down her spine.
When she lifted her head to look towards the boys, Johnny would be facing forward, horsing around with one of his friends.
But when Wendy turned back to her work, that tap-dance would begin again.
S*S
"Hope you didn't break a nail, Cinderella," Dally droned out when she and Mrs. Curtis joined the others. Some of the others -Two-Bit, Soda, and Darry- shot him half-glares and Johnny breathed out slowly. And eyes flicked all over to see her reaction.
Which honestly, wasn't much to be had.
One thin silver lining about living with her sister was that mean comments given by strangers had long since grown dull. Like pillow feathers on Wendy's skin. The right and power to frustrate or devastate her to tears belonged to Connie. Dallas Winston could sneer and scowl all he wished. But he didn't know her. And all his words were but empty air. Full of sound and fury but ultimately meaning nothing.
She shrugged.
"My nails were history a long time ago. I'm not afraid of housework," she commented absently, moving with soft grace to sit in the place on the sofa beside Johnny, Sodapop having politely scooted over a bit to make room for her, grinning.
"Care for a beer, darlin'?" Two-Bit offered grandly, holding out an unopened bottle. He jangled it before her. "Help yer-self to a bit o' hair on ya chest."
"Dang it Two-Bit, stop waving that in 'er face," Johnny said, but from his tone and his grin it was clear he was only joshing -the dark coals of his eyes almost over bright, two embers escaped from a fireplace to flicker and gleam in the house's golden light. And a rush of warmth sizzled in Wendy's bones to see him so happy. So plainly happy and oh, she would have to take care, or she would cry.
"You'll make her cross-eyed, Mathews," Soda joked alongside 'im, and they all got a good laugh. Rich and wild. Been a long time since she laughed like that. Like this.
...Wendy wasn't sure if it was a good idea to reach for his hand -technically, she was here as his friend, wasn't she? Sure, they had come in holding hands but...oh she-didn't-know. She just didn't know about these things.
And when you didn't know, often it was better to serve on the side of caution -
But from the way Johnny's foot lightly nudged her own under the coffee table, he didn't get the memo. She looked up from her lap, meeting his softly questioning gaze with an assuring smile that she was just fine. And got a renew of that sizzle when he smiled back.
But all good things had to end, and given that the Curtis' car was in the repair shop, Mr. Curtis lightly suggested Johnny take her home by the woodland route -the now Not-So-Green-Mile behind the school.
But Mrs. Curtis wasn't entirely keen on the idea, least at first.
"Dare! It's eleven o'clock at night! We can't just send them-"
"Ain't nothin' happenin' tonight, Molly," Mr. Curtis interjected. "Johnny knows his way around -he can get her 'ome."
Eyes more serious now with his wife's concern, he fixed Johnny in an almost measuring sort of way.
Despite that though, his tone was still soft when he spoke next, nearly humming as his fingers lit up a cigarette that had suddenly appeared with a golden spark match.
"You think you can get 'er home safe, Johnny B. Goode?"
Even as Johnny began to nod, Wendy had to bite her lip -her friend certainly had no lack of nicknames, and all of them were just plain adorable.
"Yes sir," he said, answering her earlier (if silent) mussing by taking her hand again and leading her out the door.
S*S
Despite Mrs. Curtis' fear, the walk to what was once the Green Mile passed by uneventfully; only the whistle of stubborn leaves that refused to detach from the trees as their siblings had done, and now crushed pleasantly beneath their feet. Finding their way on the path was no trouble -the moon keep even this crypt-like place aglow with light. Wendy would be home in no time...and wouldn't ya know, she had a good evening after all.
Soon she was grinning in the dark -or the not darkness, she should say. Everything was pearly silver. The moon. The clouds. Even the roses of breath that bloomed from them in spun mist.
When they had reached the clearing that held the Hellens' house, the hand around her own tugged slightly, gaining her attention.
"Uh...Wendy?"
"Yeah?"
"'M..." his free hand jumped to his hair, tugging his bangs before he sighed and released it. "I'm real sorry if Dally gave ya a hard time. Knew he wouldn't be happy, but I thought...well...I hoped he'd keep it to himself a little bit more."
Wendy shook her head.
"I didn't really mind," she assured him gently, giving a pleasant roll of her shoulder. "And even if I had, it's not your apology to make."
Johnny snorted a huff, rolling his eyes. "It has to be, or we'll be waitin' till Kingdom Come for Dal to get 'round to it."
He stopped suddenly and looked a little guilty. "Don't get me wrong -Dal's a cool ol' guy when ya get ta know 'im. I mean he's tough an all...but he don't like new things in his life. Took 'im forever to warm up to Ponyboy and me."
That did surprise her a little -from what little she'd seen of him, it was clear Dallas Winston took interest in well being of the youngest members of the Curtis gang -stopping Pony's interaction with her in the bud, not trusting her around Johnny. She wondered if Winston was even aware that he was looking out for them. Aware of what that said about him, and what it meant.
Probably not, Wendy figured, somewhat sadly, imagining what it would be like to look after Sam and Eric...without allowing herself to know they meant the world to her. She almost shuddered.
So for that at least, Dallas had her regard. And perhaps with time, she could earn his. Johnny clearly respected him as a role model, and it'd be easier for everyone if he didn't hate her-
"Wendy...?" Johnny asked again, suddenly, when they were back in the trees. The lights of her house not far away, and something strange in Johnny's tone -quiet, but brash.
She'd never heard it before, but that tap-dance in her skin had started again.
"Yeah?" she whispered back.
"...Can I kiss you?"
Her senses halted at that -her sense of place, time, self...you name it, that sentence halted it. Dead in its tracks.
"What?" she asked, squeaked before she could help herself. Her hands wangle themselves in front of her skirt in order to have something to do.
Johnny stood to face her fully now. Or, well, Wendy thought he was, with some strangely returned sixth sense of motion. The trees over their heads were thicker here, hiding, concealing. She could only just make out his shadow, and the flaming liquid of his black eyes as he repeated himself.
A little quieter, but still that even autumn rasp.
"Can I kiss you?"
Already, no mistaking the request...did people usually ask permission to kiss their crush?...or was that just another part of Johnny?
She could almost hear Mama laughing, feel her fingers through her hair.
Stop thinking, you'll not understand this like zat. Feel.
"I..." she swallowed, swallowed both her courage and her nerves, putting them to the sticking place.
"Yes please."
She almost winced. Despite her effort, her voice still sounded a little prim, like she ordering something from the cafeteria. But there wasn't anything to do about it now -cause Johnny's shadow had gone still like he hadn't actually thought she'd agree to it, she could feel the ripple of his surprise brush against her, and -before he could lose his nerve- felt more than saw him stepping forward and -
Brush his lips against the tip of her nose.
Springing back, it was hard to tell who was the more stunned between 'em...or who laughed first, embarrassed mirth giggling out of them in ribbons.
"D-d-damn it," Johnny gasped, shoulders shaking while Wendy covered her mouth. "D-don't ya tell nobody 'bout that."
"I won't if you won't," Wendy promised, still laughing. Slowly they reined it back in...and when they were done, they found they still hadn't moved from this shadowy nest of happening, the only place they have the courage for this.
"Wendy?"
"Yeah?"
"Can...can I try that 'gain?"
This time, she didn't think.
"Yes," she breathed, whispered, admitted. Pick one or all -it was the same. "...please."
And he did -more carefully this time. The ghost of his hand came up and mapped her chin, her cheek, and lastly her lips, like a blind man reading braille. And the rasp of his breath hitched when he felt her own on his fingertips.
When he leaned his head down, he got it right.
WELL! 22 chapters but we finally got the first kiss! Go, Johnny! I debated which of them should be the one to ask but decided it had to be Johnny. He might be shy, but he is a teenage boy! Plus, I think the dinner and the fact that Wendy ditched a Socy date to be with him would've given him courage.