Okay. I'm finally getting around to this chapter. Yay. I love this story for several reasons, reasons which make me seem obsessive and stupid, but that's another story. Believe it or not, I have a plan for this one. Yay! But for now, I have a few things to say.
Heaven: Who do you think it is? Tell me next time we talk. You're probably right. Just don't spoil it for everyone else by telling them who you think it is, okay?
Right, with that said, we can get onto this chapter. Yay! Oh, before I forget! This story is set post-novel. Just like most of my Outsiders stories. Okay, that's all.
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Chapter 4- Newfound Friends
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Laughter. Who was laughing? It wasn't me, was it? No, that wasn't me. Then who was it?
I opened my eyes and was met with the sight of my cousin and the rest of his friends. There was a peaceful thumping sound in my ear. I looked up. I was laying on Johnny's chest, him still asleep.
"Oooh, looks like Johnny got some last night," Steve laughed.
"Mornin', guys," Johnny said drowsily, finally waking up. "What's all the noise about?"
It was then that our eyes met. Johnny blushed a deep red and sat up hastily. There was more laughter. I slid off the couch, muttering every curse that I could think of under my breath.
"Nothing happened," I almost yelled. My face was burning, I knew it. It burned clear down my back. My ears felt like they were on fire. Nothing had happened! When I fell asleep, Johnny and I had been on different ends of the sofa. How had we gotten like that in the few hours we were asleep.
"Lay off," Duckie yelled, coming to my defense. "Next one to make another smartass comment will have to deal with me. Who wants to be first?"
No one really said anything after that. She smiled her bitter, satisfied smile and nodded her head.
I walked into the kitchen, where Darry was doing the dishes.
"There's chocolate milk in the fridge if you're thirsty," he called over his shoulder. "The glasses are in the cabinet."
I said thanks and grabbed myself a glass. Chocolate milk isn't one of my favorite drinks. Occasionally, I'll drink it. I prefer a soda. I don't drink much alcohol, but I will at parties or with my friends.
Duckie came into the kitchen and sat down at the table with me. She was watching Darry work, not really paying attention to much else. He left soon after that, him and Soda going to work. Duckie sighed, folding her arms on the table, resting her chin on them. She was staring at the wall beside my head.
"You like him," I asked. I wiped away the milk mustache from my upper lip.
"Who," she asked, fidgeting nervously. Yeah, she liked him all right.
"Nevermind. Why'd you stick up for me in there?"
"Us girls have to stick together," the blond explained matter-of-factly. "If not, those jerks'll run all over us. Besides, I owed ya one. Still do."
"Don't worry about it. They deserved it. They came after me last night again."
"What happened?"
"They chased me down," I said calmly, giving the friendly version. "Some guy saved me. No big deal. They'll get their's one day, I promise. Just let me catch them on the streets and they'll be sorry."
"I'll be there to help you, Colleen. I promise."
I smiled at her. Finally, I had a friend around this place. Duckie's greyish-blue eyes twinkled at me in a friendly manner and she lowered her defensive barriers. I later wondered how she and Dallas were related. She could trust, I knew that now. But Dallas cared for no one but himself. He was just out to get what he wanted, he was his own best friend. He was a good person to know, I guess. He was loyal to his friends to some degree, so they could always count on him. But he didn't truly trust anyone of them. I felt sorry for him.
Duckie and I talked for a while longer. It was mostly small talk. I asked her about her nickname. I'd wondered about that for a while. It was a name that her mother had given her when she was little because she had loved ducks. She had a rubber duckie that she would take everywhere. I doubt that she had ever told anyone else that story before.
I finally got around to asking her why she was here. She didn't answer at first, but she heaved a big sigh and finally told me. Her father had been depressed since her mother had died and he'd become a drunk. She said that she looked like her mother, but her father had given her his temper. They were constantly arguing. She'd often ran out and just roamed the streets. He'd called the cops on her several times for threating to kill on him. Most of her life had been spent in reform schools or on the streets of New York, fighting to release her anger. Then one night, her father had punched her, hitting her so hard that the force of the blow knocked her back against the fireplace. She got pissed and beat the crap out of him with fire poker. He sent her away so they wouldn't hurt each other again.
"You wanna see the scar," she asked proudly, standing up.
"If you wanna show me," I replied.
She turned her back to me and lifted up the back of her shirt. There was a two-inch scar on her lower back. It was jagged looking. I let out a low whistle and she just smiled.
"That ain't nothin'," she said. "You should see him. I ain't never been that mad in my whole life. It was scary, you know? I lost it. Everything had a red tint to it."
"Yeah," I said. I didn't really know what she meant. I had never gotten that mad. Sure, I had done some things, but I was never that mad.
"So, what are you here for," she asked, snapping me back to reality.
"Just about the same you are," I responded, sitting back in my chair. "A little different."
"You wanna tell me?"
"Sure, why not?"
It had happened a month ago while I was still living in North Carolina. I had been part of a gang. A real gang. We were called the Blood Moons. We did it all. Some of us stole cars, we busted windows out of the schools, fought for fun or money, the usual gang stuff. But we actually had a code of honor. We didn't steal, the guys didn't hit women, and we helped people. No one really messed with us, except the Wolves. They were our rivals. They were a band of blood-thirsty cutthroats who didn't know the meaning of trust.
As it turned out, Solo was the leader of the Blood Moons. And with me as his girl, I got to be in charge. Those were the best two years of my life.
One day, a big member of the Wolves had chased me and a friend of mine, Amara, onto their turf. They beat the crap out of us and that was enough to trigger an all-out gang war. We won, but not by much. We lost several people. The Wolves lost more. Needless to say, they were extremly bitter.
They started wrecking things and blaming it on the Blood Moons. Pretty soon, we got tired of it and started giving as good as we were getting. Then it happened.
Solo was jumped by ten Wolves on the rampage. I tracked them down and came at them with two knives and a hockey stick. I stole the motorcycle that one of them was riding. Pretty soon, the cops got me and I was charged with two charges of assault and battery, one charge of motorcycle theft, and one charge of attempted murder. My father decided that it was better if I got away from the gang life and Solo.
"So here I am," I said in my laid-back manner. "Simple as that."
"Wow, what a story," Duckie said softly. "So, you were really going to kill those guys?"
"Hell, yeah," I yelled angrily. "They tried to kill my boyfriend. I have problems with those who try to kill the ones I love."
"I can tell," she laughed. I don't see what was so funny. I was serious. But I think she knew that. I think what was funny was how much our stories were alike.
"So, how did you stay out of jail," she finally asked.
"My dad knew a few crooked cops. He cut them a deal and they let him take care of me instead of going to jail. But hey, no skin off my back."
She smiled at me again. I had finally found a friend in this place. I smiled back and we both broke out into peals of laughter.
"What's so funny," Keith asked as he strolled into the kitchen.
"We were just talking about our cases of attempted murder," Duckie said lightly.
"Yeah," I jumped in. "I've got a nice scar from that fight. You guys wanna see?"
They both agreed to it and I lifted my hair off of the back of my neck. There was a scar that I knew by heart. It went from one side of my neck, where my shoulders and neck connected, all the way to the other. It was as thick as a nickel.
"One guy, the one who jumped me and tried to kill Solo, got me with a bike chain," I explained. "Bled like hell. Hurt like it, too."
I felt Keith run his finger along it and shivered. That still felt weird when someone did that. Believe it or not, a lot of people did that.
"Bike chain, huh," Keith said. "Pretty rough."
I just nodded. That scene would always live in my worst nightmares. I would awaken in the middle of the night, screaming at the top of my lungs, in a cold sweat. When that chain had wrapped around my neck, I had thought that I was dead. Yet here I was, breathing and living my life.
"Colleen, I need to talk to you," Keith said, looking at Duckie pointedly. "Alone."
Duckie scoffed, but left all the same. What could be so improtant that he couldn't say it in front of her?
"I want you to be careful with him," my cousin said as soon as he was sure that Duckie was out of earshot.
I choked on my chocolate milk.
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Okay, I'm gonna leave it there because I am evil like that and I think that this is long enough as it is. So, maybe later I will get around to chapter 5. I hope it's soon because I have some really good ideas for this one. Well, Later Days, Loyal Readers! Review.
Heaven: Who do you think it is? Tell me next time we talk. You're probably right. Just don't spoil it for everyone else by telling them who you think it is, okay?
Right, with that said, we can get onto this chapter. Yay! Oh, before I forget! This story is set post-novel. Just like most of my Outsiders stories. Okay, that's all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 4- Newfound Friends
-------------------------------------
Laughter. Who was laughing? It wasn't me, was it? No, that wasn't me. Then who was it?
I opened my eyes and was met with the sight of my cousin and the rest of his friends. There was a peaceful thumping sound in my ear. I looked up. I was laying on Johnny's chest, him still asleep.
"Oooh, looks like Johnny got some last night," Steve laughed.
"Mornin', guys," Johnny said drowsily, finally waking up. "What's all the noise about?"
It was then that our eyes met. Johnny blushed a deep red and sat up hastily. There was more laughter. I slid off the couch, muttering every curse that I could think of under my breath.
"Nothing happened," I almost yelled. My face was burning, I knew it. It burned clear down my back. My ears felt like they were on fire. Nothing had happened! When I fell asleep, Johnny and I had been on different ends of the sofa. How had we gotten like that in the few hours we were asleep.
"Lay off," Duckie yelled, coming to my defense. "Next one to make another smartass comment will have to deal with me. Who wants to be first?"
No one really said anything after that. She smiled her bitter, satisfied smile and nodded her head.
I walked into the kitchen, where Darry was doing the dishes.
"There's chocolate milk in the fridge if you're thirsty," he called over his shoulder. "The glasses are in the cabinet."
I said thanks and grabbed myself a glass. Chocolate milk isn't one of my favorite drinks. Occasionally, I'll drink it. I prefer a soda. I don't drink much alcohol, but I will at parties or with my friends.
Duckie came into the kitchen and sat down at the table with me. She was watching Darry work, not really paying attention to much else. He left soon after that, him and Soda going to work. Duckie sighed, folding her arms on the table, resting her chin on them. She was staring at the wall beside my head.
"You like him," I asked. I wiped away the milk mustache from my upper lip.
"Who," she asked, fidgeting nervously. Yeah, she liked him all right.
"Nevermind. Why'd you stick up for me in there?"
"Us girls have to stick together," the blond explained matter-of-factly. "If not, those jerks'll run all over us. Besides, I owed ya one. Still do."
"Don't worry about it. They deserved it. They came after me last night again."
"What happened?"
"They chased me down," I said calmly, giving the friendly version. "Some guy saved me. No big deal. They'll get their's one day, I promise. Just let me catch them on the streets and they'll be sorry."
"I'll be there to help you, Colleen. I promise."
I smiled at her. Finally, I had a friend around this place. Duckie's greyish-blue eyes twinkled at me in a friendly manner and she lowered her defensive barriers. I later wondered how she and Dallas were related. She could trust, I knew that now. But Dallas cared for no one but himself. He was just out to get what he wanted, he was his own best friend. He was a good person to know, I guess. He was loyal to his friends to some degree, so they could always count on him. But he didn't truly trust anyone of them. I felt sorry for him.
Duckie and I talked for a while longer. It was mostly small talk. I asked her about her nickname. I'd wondered about that for a while. It was a name that her mother had given her when she was little because she had loved ducks. She had a rubber duckie that she would take everywhere. I doubt that she had ever told anyone else that story before.
I finally got around to asking her why she was here. She didn't answer at first, but she heaved a big sigh and finally told me. Her father had been depressed since her mother had died and he'd become a drunk. She said that she looked like her mother, but her father had given her his temper. They were constantly arguing. She'd often ran out and just roamed the streets. He'd called the cops on her several times for threating to kill on him. Most of her life had been spent in reform schools or on the streets of New York, fighting to release her anger. Then one night, her father had punched her, hitting her so hard that the force of the blow knocked her back against the fireplace. She got pissed and beat the crap out of him with fire poker. He sent her away so they wouldn't hurt each other again.
"You wanna see the scar," she asked proudly, standing up.
"If you wanna show me," I replied.
She turned her back to me and lifted up the back of her shirt. There was a two-inch scar on her lower back. It was jagged looking. I let out a low whistle and she just smiled.
"That ain't nothin'," she said. "You should see him. I ain't never been that mad in my whole life. It was scary, you know? I lost it. Everything had a red tint to it."
"Yeah," I said. I didn't really know what she meant. I had never gotten that mad. Sure, I had done some things, but I was never that mad.
"So, what are you here for," she asked, snapping me back to reality.
"Just about the same you are," I responded, sitting back in my chair. "A little different."
"You wanna tell me?"
"Sure, why not?"
It had happened a month ago while I was still living in North Carolina. I had been part of a gang. A real gang. We were called the Blood Moons. We did it all. Some of us stole cars, we busted windows out of the schools, fought for fun or money, the usual gang stuff. But we actually had a code of honor. We didn't steal, the guys didn't hit women, and we helped people. No one really messed with us, except the Wolves. They were our rivals. They were a band of blood-thirsty cutthroats who didn't know the meaning of trust.
As it turned out, Solo was the leader of the Blood Moons. And with me as his girl, I got to be in charge. Those were the best two years of my life.
One day, a big member of the Wolves had chased me and a friend of mine, Amara, onto their turf. They beat the crap out of us and that was enough to trigger an all-out gang war. We won, but not by much. We lost several people. The Wolves lost more. Needless to say, they were extremly bitter.
They started wrecking things and blaming it on the Blood Moons. Pretty soon, we got tired of it and started giving as good as we were getting. Then it happened.
Solo was jumped by ten Wolves on the rampage. I tracked them down and came at them with two knives and a hockey stick. I stole the motorcycle that one of them was riding. Pretty soon, the cops got me and I was charged with two charges of assault and battery, one charge of motorcycle theft, and one charge of attempted murder. My father decided that it was better if I got away from the gang life and Solo.
"So here I am," I said in my laid-back manner. "Simple as that."
"Wow, what a story," Duckie said softly. "So, you were really going to kill those guys?"
"Hell, yeah," I yelled angrily. "They tried to kill my boyfriend. I have problems with those who try to kill the ones I love."
"I can tell," she laughed. I don't see what was so funny. I was serious. But I think she knew that. I think what was funny was how much our stories were alike.
"So, how did you stay out of jail," she finally asked.
"My dad knew a few crooked cops. He cut them a deal and they let him take care of me instead of going to jail. But hey, no skin off my back."
She smiled at me again. I had finally found a friend in this place. I smiled back and we both broke out into peals of laughter.
"What's so funny," Keith asked as he strolled into the kitchen.
"We were just talking about our cases of attempted murder," Duckie said lightly.
"Yeah," I jumped in. "I've got a nice scar from that fight. You guys wanna see?"
They both agreed to it and I lifted my hair off of the back of my neck. There was a scar that I knew by heart. It went from one side of my neck, where my shoulders and neck connected, all the way to the other. It was as thick as a nickel.
"One guy, the one who jumped me and tried to kill Solo, got me with a bike chain," I explained. "Bled like hell. Hurt like it, too."
I felt Keith run his finger along it and shivered. That still felt weird when someone did that. Believe it or not, a lot of people did that.
"Bike chain, huh," Keith said. "Pretty rough."
I just nodded. That scene would always live in my worst nightmares. I would awaken in the middle of the night, screaming at the top of my lungs, in a cold sweat. When that chain had wrapped around my neck, I had thought that I was dead. Yet here I was, breathing and living my life.
"Colleen, I need to talk to you," Keith said, looking at Duckie pointedly. "Alone."
Duckie scoffed, but left all the same. What could be so improtant that he couldn't say it in front of her?
"I want you to be careful with him," my cousin said as soon as he was sure that Duckie was out of earshot.
I choked on my chocolate milk.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay, I'm gonna leave it there because I am evil like that and I think that this is long enough as it is. So, maybe later I will get around to chapter 5. I hope it's soon because I have some really good ideas for this one. Well, Later Days, Loyal Readers! Review.