Slashed Tires Chapter 20
A/N: Holy crap. How'd this thing get so freaking long? Hah, for anyone out there who cares, this was originally supposed to be a two-page short story. Hahahaha, well I guess I better wrap it up though - it's too long ...sob. Meh, it's so hard to stop...
P.S. Another long one. Beware y'all!
P.P.S. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."
~
The Soc swung hard. Darry staggered back, a blinding pain throbbing in his head. `This has to stop,' he thought dimly. There were just too many of them. As prepared as the greasers were, they hadn't been ready for the number of Socs they now faced. A body bumped into him, and he turned tiredly, readying himself for another punch.
"Darry?" Soda gasped. His face was pale and sweaty, and he was grasping desperately at his side. He groaned softly. "Darry, I think I cracked a rib-" Soda managed, before another Soc jumped on his back.
Darry felt his temper rise. He'd fight if Tim still wanted him to, but no way was he letting Sodapop get any more hurt than he already was. He bounded over to where the Soc had Soda pinned. Darry wrapped his muscled arms around the smaller boy, heaving him skyward. The Soc was swearing a blue streak. Darry spun and dropped the yelling Soc into a group of fighting people. He shook the sweat from his eyes. It was getting so he could hardly tell who was grease and who was rich kid anymore. Leaning down he grasped Soda's arm firmly, pulling the boy to his feet. Soda grimaced slightly.
"Thanks," he gasped, before turning back to the fight. Darry grabbed his shoulder.
"No way little buddy. You get your ass back to the car. Be ready to drive us when we leave." Soda looked at him confused. The poor kid was exhausted. Darry shook him gently, hoping to wake him up some. "Get your ass outta this place ya hear? And I mean now." His brother stared dizzily up at him.
"Goddamn," Two-Bit staggered up to them. "Darry, we need your help." Two-Bit was dripping sweat. He stared up at Darry, a begging look in his eyes. "Come on man," he pleaded, his voice cracking slightly. Darry gave him a slight nod, and, shoving Soda towards the door, he dove back into the crowd.
He'd barely fought for two minutes before he heard it. A shrill whistle, starting low and sliding to a deafening pitch. He whirled around, catching a glimpse of the door. Tim stood, beckoning impatiently to his greasers. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he leaned back.
"Move out! Greasers move out!" He yelled, his voice rising above the din. Groaning softly with relief, Darry hurried for the door, pausing once to wait for Two-Bit to catch up. The two burst into the hall, stumbling through the rest of the group out the door. Once out in the open, they parted, each hurrying for their own cars. Panting hard, Darry wrenched open the driver's door and got in. He was the first in the car and he waited, still breathing heavily for the rest his group to join him. The passenger door opened and Sodapop slid into the car, gasping and coughing, one hand still pressed to his side. Darry glanced worriedly at his brother. He opened his mouth but his attention was diverted when the others got into the car. Steve, and four other boys from Tim's gang of hoods.
"Go, go, go!" One of them yelped, slamming the car door. Darry took off with a screech of his wheels. The car roared down the street, speeding past the rows of large houses, down to the greaser's side of town. The sudden scream of a police siren shattered their eardrums. Darry wondered for a split second why it had taken the fuzz so damn long, then one of the gang guys was yelling at him to stop the car. He slammed on the brake, and Tim's greasers leapt from the vehicle. They ran, feet pounding on the cement, down an alley, disappearing from view through a half-hidden door. Darry didn't wait around to see if they'd come back. He pulled quickly from the curb, the siren growing louder. He sped across town, pulling up at last in front of his house. The three boys jumped out of the car and tore up the steps to the house. Darry wrenched open the screen door, shoving through the darkened kitchen into the living room. Behind him, Steve hit the lights. Soda dashed across the room,
tripped, then pulled himself onto the couch. Steve hurried to the middle of the floor then dropped like a rag doll, putting on an expression of vague boredom. Darry grabbed a chair, turned it around and plunked himself down. They waited in tense silence. The siren grew louder, louder, louder...then slowly, almost imperceptibly, it began to go down. The three greasers waited until it was barely audible before they deemed it safe. Almost simultaneously, they breathed out, relief flooding the room. Soda's eyes met Steve's and the two boys burst out into near-hysterical laughter.
"Oh yeah!" Steve gloated, rolling onto his back. "Did we kick ass or what!" He held out his hand, palm up, and Soda slapped him five.
"Yeah, but I'm just glad to be outta there alive!" Soda leaned against the side of the couch, weariness fighting with relief on his face.
Darry smiled absently at the two younger boys. He stood up from his chair and ambled slowly over to the door. He gazed out into the black, his eyes searching for signs of the other cars. Finding none, he sighed and turned back toward the living room.
He could hear Steve and Soda fighting playfully about who had taken down more Socs. Darry shook his head, then entered the room.
"Kids stop your fightin'! That's ridiculous comparing your numbers." The two fell silent. Darry suppressed a grin, studying his nails intently. "'Sides. Y'all know I beat down more than both of you kids combined." Soda yelped in protest and Steve playfully tossed a pillow at Darry's head. Darry smiled softly, pushing the pillow away.
"Okay Sodapop, lemme see that side of yours," he said seriously. Soda groaned.
"Naw, Darry it's just a little bump-"
"Come on, I don't want you walking around with no busted ribs or something." Soda rolled his eyes at Steve, but let Darry pry his shirt off him.
Darry inspected Soda carefully. He'd probably only bruised a few ribs. There were no broken bones, that was for sure.
"You'll be okay," he informed his brother.
"I know, I know." Soda gave Darry a little hug. "I wuv you Dawy."
Steve laughed, and Darry shoved Soda lightly, making sure not to touch his ribs.
The soft rumble of a car engine made all three boys shut up. They all stumbled over each other, tearing for the door. Outside, Two-Bit and Tim's cars were pulling up by the curb. Darry smiled, relieved as Two-Bit hurried out of his car, slamming the door. At least he could walk, and his face looked okay. He bounded up the stairs, his trademark grin plastered all over his face.
"Hey buddy! We're alive!" He pushed past Darry into the kitchen. "Soda! Stevie, kid let's go get wasted!" Steve laughed following Two-Bit back into the house, but Soda hesitated. He glanced at his older brother.
"Keep forgetting," he said softly. "I thought Ponyboy would be..." he trailed off, shaking his head, then followed his friends. Darry sighed. They had to get the kids back. Maybe he'd try Dally again.
Darry glanced back at Tim's car and had to do a double take. A tall, slim, redheaded girl was buzzing around Tim, helping him with something. Angela hurried through the gate up the steps, her dark hair bouncing prettily. Darry smiled, somewhat shaken at the sight of a Soc standing so close to his property. She looked vaguely familiar...
"Dally's hurt. Need a couch," Angela's voice was like a higher, feminine version of Tim's. Hard, tough, giving no clue to her emotion. She stared at Darry with her dark, smoldering eyes, shifting impatiently from one foot to another. What she said clicked in and Darry raised his eyebrows.
"Dally's hurt again?" he couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice, and to his surprise, Angela scowled at him.
"He was helping get me outta that stupid club," she snapped. She marched past him, her nose stuck in the air. "He's out cold," she added, giving Darry a superior look. "Guy couldn't handle a couple of Socs." She opened the door to the freezer, rooting around for the ice. Darry rolled his eyes. One minute she was defending the guy, the next she was insulting him. Just like Tim. "Honestly, I think he's getting soft-"
"There were four guys," a cold female voice interrupted. "All of them in good condition, and he was trying to save you!" A light-bulb went off in Darry's head as he finally placed the redhead.
"Hey Cherry," he said politely, but she was too involved in a staring match with Angela to reply.
"Not to mention, he had to keep an eye out for you, Ms. Soc," Tim added. He was walking slowly through the door, Dally's arm slung across his shoulder.
"Come on kid, wake up," Tim groaned, shaking him slightly. "You're kinda heavy..." Tim glanced slyly up through his eyelashes at Darry. Sighing resignedly, Darry leaned forward and hefted Dally into his arms. He carried the boy through the kitchen, into the living room and dumped him onto the couch, barely missing Two-Bit.
"Hey Dally ol' pal! How ya doin'? Take down many Socs? Dally? Dal - oh." Two-Bit prodded the unconscious blond with one finger. He looked up at Darry, his eyes wide. "Glory Darrel!" he breathed. "Your stench knocked him out!" Darry growled at him. Two-Bit let out an `eep' then he ducked and ran for the comfort of Sodapop.
"Leave him be," Cherry was suddenly there, wrapping ice in a towel. "He's had a rough night."
Darry and Tim exchanged glances. Tim smirked.
"Right," he said. "Really tough for Dallas. Poor girl." Dally groaned softly, his eyelids flickering.
Two-Bit snickered. "Yeah, don't worry Cherry. We'll make sure he gets right to bed. Heck, I'll even tuck the kid in-"
"The hell you will, you mother-fucking bitch," Dally swore groggily, struggling to sit up. Cherry gasped a little and backed up, dropping the towel. Dallas scowled at her. "Whatsamatter? You never heard a swear word? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, okay? Jesus. Damn bitch."
Cherry closed her mouth. The first thing she'd felt was hurt. Then anger. `What gives him the right?' she thought, her temper boiling. `How dare he speak to me like that!'
"Listen you ungrateful little rat!" she fairly snarled. "I know how to swear, and I've been trying to help you...I'm risking it right now just being here! I should have stayed back at the club but I wanted to make sure you'd be alright-"
"That's your problem," Dally said sullenly.
"You're terrible!" she exploded, the tension of the night and her fury at Bob's situation pushing her past her limit. "You immature, unreasonable, selfish, rude, spoiled brat! I've had enough of your self-obsessed attitude. I don't care if you bleed to death you rotten bastard!" She threw the ice at Dallas, making him jump slightly. "Go to hell!" She shrieked furiously, wishing that she'd taken the time to learn a few more swear words. Whirling, she stalked across the room, anger tearing through her body. Stopping at the door frame, she spun around to face Dally.
"Oh before I forget," she paused. "FUCK you, Dallas Winston!" With that she turned and stomped out of the house.
Silence filled the room. No one dared breathe. All eyes were fixed on Dally, and he was staring at the place where Cherry had been, the ice melting on his lap.
"Well," Darry cleared his throat. "I, um, I...I guess I'd better take her home." He backed out of the room slowly, staring all the while at Dallas.
"You really have a way with the ladies doncha?" Angela said slowly, her eyes wide, gazing at Dallas. She had a newfound respect for that Cherry girl. Anyone who could say those things right to Dallas Winston's face deserved respect. And maybe a medal.
Dally's heart was beating so fast he was afraid if he tried to breathe normally it would burst. `Goddamn,' he thought wildly. `GODDAMN!' He should be angry. He should be embarrassed. But all he felt was a crazy sort of surprise. She'd really been worked up.
"Goddamn," he said out loud, his voice barely above a whisper. "That was incredible." Two-Bit made a noise and gave him a funny look.
"No shit man," Steve said slowly. "But you're not supposed to think that."
Soda shook his head, eyes wide. "Man, she really...wow...God she must hate you!" Dally jerked slightly. He hadn't considered that. But, really, if she had said all those things, she must hate him. He swallowed, realizing, too late, that he really didn't want Cherry to hate him.
"What do I care?" he said aloud, hoping against hope that he'd believe it when he said it didn't matter.
"Maybe you should apologize," Soda said quietly. Dally whipped around, staring at him. "I mean, it could really come in handy having her around and stuff." Soda added quickly. "She said she'd spy for us, but I bet she'd not too keen on that idea now." Dally looked down. Now he felt embarrassed. He was sick of feeling embarrassed.
"Okay," he said finally. "I'm apologize." Two-Bit snorted, so he added: "But I'm only doing it cause you asked. Not cause I'm sorry or anything. Cause I'm not. She had it coming." Dally looked at all of them in turn, letting them know he was seriously. "I'm not sorry."
The group nodded as one, but no one, not even Dallas himself, believed it.
A/N: Holy crap. How'd this thing get so freaking long? Hah, for anyone out there who cares, this was originally supposed to be a two-page short story. Hahahaha, well I guess I better wrap it up though - it's too long ...sob. Meh, it's so hard to stop...
P.S. Another long one. Beware y'all!
P.P.S. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."
~
The Soc swung hard. Darry staggered back, a blinding pain throbbing in his head. `This has to stop,' he thought dimly. There were just too many of them. As prepared as the greasers were, they hadn't been ready for the number of Socs they now faced. A body bumped into him, and he turned tiredly, readying himself for another punch.
"Darry?" Soda gasped. His face was pale and sweaty, and he was grasping desperately at his side. He groaned softly. "Darry, I think I cracked a rib-" Soda managed, before another Soc jumped on his back.
Darry felt his temper rise. He'd fight if Tim still wanted him to, but no way was he letting Sodapop get any more hurt than he already was. He bounded over to where the Soc had Soda pinned. Darry wrapped his muscled arms around the smaller boy, heaving him skyward. The Soc was swearing a blue streak. Darry spun and dropped the yelling Soc into a group of fighting people. He shook the sweat from his eyes. It was getting so he could hardly tell who was grease and who was rich kid anymore. Leaning down he grasped Soda's arm firmly, pulling the boy to his feet. Soda grimaced slightly.
"Thanks," he gasped, before turning back to the fight. Darry grabbed his shoulder.
"No way little buddy. You get your ass back to the car. Be ready to drive us when we leave." Soda looked at him confused. The poor kid was exhausted. Darry shook him gently, hoping to wake him up some. "Get your ass outta this place ya hear? And I mean now." His brother stared dizzily up at him.
"Goddamn," Two-Bit staggered up to them. "Darry, we need your help." Two-Bit was dripping sweat. He stared up at Darry, a begging look in his eyes. "Come on man," he pleaded, his voice cracking slightly. Darry gave him a slight nod, and, shoving Soda towards the door, he dove back into the crowd.
He'd barely fought for two minutes before he heard it. A shrill whistle, starting low and sliding to a deafening pitch. He whirled around, catching a glimpse of the door. Tim stood, beckoning impatiently to his greasers. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he leaned back.
"Move out! Greasers move out!" He yelled, his voice rising above the din. Groaning softly with relief, Darry hurried for the door, pausing once to wait for Two-Bit to catch up. The two burst into the hall, stumbling through the rest of the group out the door. Once out in the open, they parted, each hurrying for their own cars. Panting hard, Darry wrenched open the driver's door and got in. He was the first in the car and he waited, still breathing heavily for the rest his group to join him. The passenger door opened and Sodapop slid into the car, gasping and coughing, one hand still pressed to his side. Darry glanced worriedly at his brother. He opened his mouth but his attention was diverted when the others got into the car. Steve, and four other boys from Tim's gang of hoods.
"Go, go, go!" One of them yelped, slamming the car door. Darry took off with a screech of his wheels. The car roared down the street, speeding past the rows of large houses, down to the greaser's side of town. The sudden scream of a police siren shattered their eardrums. Darry wondered for a split second why it had taken the fuzz so damn long, then one of the gang guys was yelling at him to stop the car. He slammed on the brake, and Tim's greasers leapt from the vehicle. They ran, feet pounding on the cement, down an alley, disappearing from view through a half-hidden door. Darry didn't wait around to see if they'd come back. He pulled quickly from the curb, the siren growing louder. He sped across town, pulling up at last in front of his house. The three boys jumped out of the car and tore up the steps to the house. Darry wrenched open the screen door, shoving through the darkened kitchen into the living room. Behind him, Steve hit the lights. Soda dashed across the room,
tripped, then pulled himself onto the couch. Steve hurried to the middle of the floor then dropped like a rag doll, putting on an expression of vague boredom. Darry grabbed a chair, turned it around and plunked himself down. They waited in tense silence. The siren grew louder, louder, louder...then slowly, almost imperceptibly, it began to go down. The three greasers waited until it was barely audible before they deemed it safe. Almost simultaneously, they breathed out, relief flooding the room. Soda's eyes met Steve's and the two boys burst out into near-hysterical laughter.
"Oh yeah!" Steve gloated, rolling onto his back. "Did we kick ass or what!" He held out his hand, palm up, and Soda slapped him five.
"Yeah, but I'm just glad to be outta there alive!" Soda leaned against the side of the couch, weariness fighting with relief on his face.
Darry smiled absently at the two younger boys. He stood up from his chair and ambled slowly over to the door. He gazed out into the black, his eyes searching for signs of the other cars. Finding none, he sighed and turned back toward the living room.
He could hear Steve and Soda fighting playfully about who had taken down more Socs. Darry shook his head, then entered the room.
"Kids stop your fightin'! That's ridiculous comparing your numbers." The two fell silent. Darry suppressed a grin, studying his nails intently. "'Sides. Y'all know I beat down more than both of you kids combined." Soda yelped in protest and Steve playfully tossed a pillow at Darry's head. Darry smiled softly, pushing the pillow away.
"Okay Sodapop, lemme see that side of yours," he said seriously. Soda groaned.
"Naw, Darry it's just a little bump-"
"Come on, I don't want you walking around with no busted ribs or something." Soda rolled his eyes at Steve, but let Darry pry his shirt off him.
Darry inspected Soda carefully. He'd probably only bruised a few ribs. There were no broken bones, that was for sure.
"You'll be okay," he informed his brother.
"I know, I know." Soda gave Darry a little hug. "I wuv you Dawy."
Steve laughed, and Darry shoved Soda lightly, making sure not to touch his ribs.
The soft rumble of a car engine made all three boys shut up. They all stumbled over each other, tearing for the door. Outside, Two-Bit and Tim's cars were pulling up by the curb. Darry smiled, relieved as Two-Bit hurried out of his car, slamming the door. At least he could walk, and his face looked okay. He bounded up the stairs, his trademark grin plastered all over his face.
"Hey buddy! We're alive!" He pushed past Darry into the kitchen. "Soda! Stevie, kid let's go get wasted!" Steve laughed following Two-Bit back into the house, but Soda hesitated. He glanced at his older brother.
"Keep forgetting," he said softly. "I thought Ponyboy would be..." he trailed off, shaking his head, then followed his friends. Darry sighed. They had to get the kids back. Maybe he'd try Dally again.
Darry glanced back at Tim's car and had to do a double take. A tall, slim, redheaded girl was buzzing around Tim, helping him with something. Angela hurried through the gate up the steps, her dark hair bouncing prettily. Darry smiled, somewhat shaken at the sight of a Soc standing so close to his property. She looked vaguely familiar...
"Dally's hurt. Need a couch," Angela's voice was like a higher, feminine version of Tim's. Hard, tough, giving no clue to her emotion. She stared at Darry with her dark, smoldering eyes, shifting impatiently from one foot to another. What she said clicked in and Darry raised his eyebrows.
"Dally's hurt again?" he couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice, and to his surprise, Angela scowled at him.
"He was helping get me outta that stupid club," she snapped. She marched past him, her nose stuck in the air. "He's out cold," she added, giving Darry a superior look. "Guy couldn't handle a couple of Socs." She opened the door to the freezer, rooting around for the ice. Darry rolled his eyes. One minute she was defending the guy, the next she was insulting him. Just like Tim. "Honestly, I think he's getting soft-"
"There were four guys," a cold female voice interrupted. "All of them in good condition, and he was trying to save you!" A light-bulb went off in Darry's head as he finally placed the redhead.
"Hey Cherry," he said politely, but she was too involved in a staring match with Angela to reply.
"Not to mention, he had to keep an eye out for you, Ms. Soc," Tim added. He was walking slowly through the door, Dally's arm slung across his shoulder.
"Come on kid, wake up," Tim groaned, shaking him slightly. "You're kinda heavy..." Tim glanced slyly up through his eyelashes at Darry. Sighing resignedly, Darry leaned forward and hefted Dally into his arms. He carried the boy through the kitchen, into the living room and dumped him onto the couch, barely missing Two-Bit.
"Hey Dally ol' pal! How ya doin'? Take down many Socs? Dally? Dal - oh." Two-Bit prodded the unconscious blond with one finger. He looked up at Darry, his eyes wide. "Glory Darrel!" he breathed. "Your stench knocked him out!" Darry growled at him. Two-Bit let out an `eep' then he ducked and ran for the comfort of Sodapop.
"Leave him be," Cherry was suddenly there, wrapping ice in a towel. "He's had a rough night."
Darry and Tim exchanged glances. Tim smirked.
"Right," he said. "Really tough for Dallas. Poor girl." Dally groaned softly, his eyelids flickering.
Two-Bit snickered. "Yeah, don't worry Cherry. We'll make sure he gets right to bed. Heck, I'll even tuck the kid in-"
"The hell you will, you mother-fucking bitch," Dally swore groggily, struggling to sit up. Cherry gasped a little and backed up, dropping the towel. Dallas scowled at her. "Whatsamatter? You never heard a swear word? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, okay? Jesus. Damn bitch."
Cherry closed her mouth. The first thing she'd felt was hurt. Then anger. `What gives him the right?' she thought, her temper boiling. `How dare he speak to me like that!'
"Listen you ungrateful little rat!" she fairly snarled. "I know how to swear, and I've been trying to help you...I'm risking it right now just being here! I should have stayed back at the club but I wanted to make sure you'd be alright-"
"That's your problem," Dally said sullenly.
"You're terrible!" she exploded, the tension of the night and her fury at Bob's situation pushing her past her limit. "You immature, unreasonable, selfish, rude, spoiled brat! I've had enough of your self-obsessed attitude. I don't care if you bleed to death you rotten bastard!" She threw the ice at Dallas, making him jump slightly. "Go to hell!" She shrieked furiously, wishing that she'd taken the time to learn a few more swear words. Whirling, she stalked across the room, anger tearing through her body. Stopping at the door frame, she spun around to face Dally.
"Oh before I forget," she paused. "FUCK you, Dallas Winston!" With that she turned and stomped out of the house.
Silence filled the room. No one dared breathe. All eyes were fixed on Dally, and he was staring at the place where Cherry had been, the ice melting on his lap.
"Well," Darry cleared his throat. "I, um, I...I guess I'd better take her home." He backed out of the room slowly, staring all the while at Dallas.
"You really have a way with the ladies doncha?" Angela said slowly, her eyes wide, gazing at Dallas. She had a newfound respect for that Cherry girl. Anyone who could say those things right to Dallas Winston's face deserved respect. And maybe a medal.
Dally's heart was beating so fast he was afraid if he tried to breathe normally it would burst. `Goddamn,' he thought wildly. `GODDAMN!' He should be angry. He should be embarrassed. But all he felt was a crazy sort of surprise. She'd really been worked up.
"Goddamn," he said out loud, his voice barely above a whisper. "That was incredible." Two-Bit made a noise and gave him a funny look.
"No shit man," Steve said slowly. "But you're not supposed to think that."
Soda shook his head, eyes wide. "Man, she really...wow...God she must hate you!" Dally jerked slightly. He hadn't considered that. But, really, if she had said all those things, she must hate him. He swallowed, realizing, too late, that he really didn't want Cherry to hate him.
"What do I care?" he said aloud, hoping against hope that he'd believe it when he said it didn't matter.
"Maybe you should apologize," Soda said quietly. Dally whipped around, staring at him. "I mean, it could really come in handy having her around and stuff." Soda added quickly. "She said she'd spy for us, but I bet she'd not too keen on that idea now." Dally looked down. Now he felt embarrassed. He was sick of feeling embarrassed.
"Okay," he said finally. "I'm apologize." Two-Bit snorted, so he added: "But I'm only doing it cause you asked. Not cause I'm sorry or anything. Cause I'm not. She had it coming." Dally looked at all of them in turn, letting them know he was seriously. "I'm not sorry."
The group nodded as one, but no one, not even Dallas himself, believed it.