1 Slashed Tires Chapter 13
Disclaimer: I forgot to do these for awhile, seeing as they serve no real purpose. If I was making money from this I would tell everyone that, but I'm not, and also, I'm betting that everyone who reads this fic has already read S.E. Hinton's book and knows who most of the characters belong to. So I am hereby declaring that no more disclaimers shall be written on this fic. *takes a bow*
Rated Pg-13 like the rest of this fic because I write bad words (sorry)
A/N: Thank you for reviewing, I lurv you all. This chapter is a little slow (apologies), and mostly about Soda.
P.S. (In response to a review from awhile ago) I wish I could write slash cuz everyone reviews that, even if it's to flame it. Unfortunately I keep getting the giggles writing romance, so I'd better just stick to really awful sexual innuendoes.
The story (finally! I'll have to stop A/Ning so much!):
~
The afternoon was warm for fall. In fact it was downright HOT. Steve stared up sleepily through half-open eyes at the cloudless blue sky from where he was lying flat on his back. He could hear Two-Bit humming tunelessly to the radio and he smiled in spite of himself. Steve's grin broadened and he chuckled softly remembering how he and Soda had found the wise-cracking greaser sitting on the curb with an armful of apples, trying to find Texas on a map of Oklahoma.
"What an ass," Steve murmured almost affectionately. He propped himself up on one elbow and glanced over to where his happy-go-lucky best friend sat in unusual silence.
"Hey Sodapop, cat got your tongue?" Soda dragged his gaze reluctantly from the ant he had been studying. His eyes focused on where Steve was lying in the dirt in front of the Curtis' house. He tried a smile, and shrugged.
"Just tired, I guess."
Steve sighed. He wasn't fooled. He heaved himself from the ground and plunked himself beside his best friend on the steps. "I ain't that dumb Soda. If you're missing your brother-" Soda sharp intake of breath made Steve shut up. For awhile the two greasers sat, saying nothing, listening to the faint sounds of the radio inside.
"It's not just that," Soda said suddenly. Steve looked at him questioningly. Soda stared at the ground, prodding a rock with the toe of his tennis shoe. "It's Sandy," he said finally. Beside him Steve's mouth curved into a silent 'o' of understanding.
"Trouble with your girl, huh?" Soda made a choking noise, but nodded
"Except-" his voice cracked, "except I don't think she's my girl anymore." He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.
Steve let the breath whoosh out of him and he leaned back against the rail. He stared at Soda, racking his brains for something comforting to say. But Soda wasn't finished.
"She's gone. She went to Florida to live with her Grandmother."
"God man WHY?" Steve burst out. "You guys were, I mean I thought y'all were gonna get married-"
"I don't know." There was a sort of quiet sadness in Soda's voice that made Steve wince. The two sat, saying nothing. A distant car rumbled to a start in the silence.
"I'm sorry," Steve said finally.
Soda drew a shaky breath and smiled. "I guess her parents didn't like me or something."
"Well," said Steve after a moment's pause, "then they're fucking bad judged of character weren't they."
Soda smiled. Granted it was forced, but it lightened the mood considerably.
"DINNER!" Darry yelled not 4 feet away. Both teens groaned.
"God he's loud," Steve commented, as they stretched sending Soda into a fit of laughter.
"You ain't kiddin'." He smirked. "Darry, what're we eatin'?"
Steve watched his friend bound back into the house, a regular ball of energy as usual, amazed at the difference in the other's attitude. Soda turned and beckoned him with one hand, before tearing into the house. Steve followed slowly, suddenly realizing that maybe his friend had more problems than he'd first believed.
Disclaimer: I forgot to do these for awhile, seeing as they serve no real purpose. If I was making money from this I would tell everyone that, but I'm not, and also, I'm betting that everyone who reads this fic has already read S.E. Hinton's book and knows who most of the characters belong to. So I am hereby declaring that no more disclaimers shall be written on this fic. *takes a bow*
Rated Pg-13 like the rest of this fic because I write bad words (sorry)
A/N: Thank you for reviewing, I lurv you all. This chapter is a little slow (apologies), and mostly about Soda.
P.S. (In response to a review from awhile ago) I wish I could write slash cuz everyone reviews that, even if it's to flame it. Unfortunately I keep getting the giggles writing romance, so I'd better just stick to really awful sexual innuendoes.
The story (finally! I'll have to stop A/Ning so much!):
~
The afternoon was warm for fall. In fact it was downright HOT. Steve stared up sleepily through half-open eyes at the cloudless blue sky from where he was lying flat on his back. He could hear Two-Bit humming tunelessly to the radio and he smiled in spite of himself. Steve's grin broadened and he chuckled softly remembering how he and Soda had found the wise-cracking greaser sitting on the curb with an armful of apples, trying to find Texas on a map of Oklahoma.
"What an ass," Steve murmured almost affectionately. He propped himself up on one elbow and glanced over to where his happy-go-lucky best friend sat in unusual silence.
"Hey Sodapop, cat got your tongue?" Soda dragged his gaze reluctantly from the ant he had been studying. His eyes focused on where Steve was lying in the dirt in front of the Curtis' house. He tried a smile, and shrugged.
"Just tired, I guess."
Steve sighed. He wasn't fooled. He heaved himself from the ground and plunked himself beside his best friend on the steps. "I ain't that dumb Soda. If you're missing your brother-" Soda sharp intake of breath made Steve shut up. For awhile the two greasers sat, saying nothing, listening to the faint sounds of the radio inside.
"It's not just that," Soda said suddenly. Steve looked at him questioningly. Soda stared at the ground, prodding a rock with the toe of his tennis shoe. "It's Sandy," he said finally. Beside him Steve's mouth curved into a silent 'o' of understanding.
"Trouble with your girl, huh?" Soda made a choking noise, but nodded
"Except-" his voice cracked, "except I don't think she's my girl anymore." He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.
Steve let the breath whoosh out of him and he leaned back against the rail. He stared at Soda, racking his brains for something comforting to say. But Soda wasn't finished.
"She's gone. She went to Florida to live with her Grandmother."
"God man WHY?" Steve burst out. "You guys were, I mean I thought y'all were gonna get married-"
"I don't know." There was a sort of quiet sadness in Soda's voice that made Steve wince. The two sat, saying nothing. A distant car rumbled to a start in the silence.
"I'm sorry," Steve said finally.
Soda drew a shaky breath and smiled. "I guess her parents didn't like me or something."
"Well," said Steve after a moment's pause, "then they're fucking bad judged of character weren't they."
Soda smiled. Granted it was forced, but it lightened the mood considerably.
"DINNER!" Darry yelled not 4 feet away. Both teens groaned.
"God he's loud," Steve commented, as they stretched sending Soda into a fit of laughter.
"You ain't kiddin'." He smirked. "Darry, what're we eatin'?"
Steve watched his friend bound back into the house, a regular ball of energy as usual, amazed at the difference in the other's attitude. Soda turned and beckoned him with one hand, before tearing into the house. Steve followed slowly, suddenly realizing that maybe his friend had more problems than he'd first believed.