Five For Fighting
Rated: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own no original characters of the S.E. Hinton books however I made up Amber all by myself )
A/N: I'm going through this story and fixing all the things that always bothered me. Some content has changed, but mostly for the sake of continuity or realism. Unfortunately (or fortunately, whatever your view might be), this story is what it is, a Curtis sister fic. Just a heads up.
O.N.E.
Considering this is for school and all, I'm going to attempt to put it all into my best English so that I can get a good grade and pass Sophomore English. I'm supposed to write this composition to make up for all the work I missed, coming into school late in the semester. My teacher is making me write an account of my first month or so in Tulsa,
I heard he made my brother do something like this once to keep him from failing the semester after he'd gotten into some trouble and his grades slipped. Being that our older brother would whoop us good if we failed, our teacher is pretty used to getting these from my family by now I suppose. I never heard another kid having to do one of these though, maybe he just has it in for us, or maybe he finds us interesting. I suppose my origin could be of some interest to some folks, but the weeks that followed didn't seem like anything to write home about, but I don't want to fail so here I go, starting from the beginning would be best, my reasons for coming to Tulsa…
I fumbled with the rusty latch of the gate, praying that anyone inside the small gray house badly in need of a paint job did not see me falter. I could see no sign of activity in the house and picked my way across the cracked sidewalk and up the wooden steps to the makeshift front porch facing the screen door and a thicker panel door, the two tangible items that stood between me and my past. My fear was not tangible, nor would I recognize it or give it a chance to appear fully, smothering it by biting my lip, but it was there and given the chance it would turn me around and send me back from where I came from, or erupt onto the sidewalk, a mixture of lunch and nerves. But I had no intention of leaving now or losing my lunch and so the only choice was forward, I could not avoid it nor did I want to. I knocked on the door jamming one hand into the left pocket of my thick winter coat to finger the piece of paper that was folded inside. The sharp folded edges and the raised emblem assured me of my reasons to be there. No answer. I knocked again a little more loudly realizing that the first knock wasn't much more than a tap and heard muffled,
"I'm comin'!"
The door was yanked open and I found myself face to face with a boy around the age of seventeen or so, best I could figure. He was a good-looking boy, which sounds conceded once I mention the fact that there was a definite resemblance between us.
The boy at the door had the same finely drawn face as me and the same complexion, though his hair was darker than mine, a dark gold that set off his eyes where as mine is more gold with a mixture of red, loose curls that fall down my back. His hair hung longer than a lot of boys I knew, but from the boys I saw gathered around a gas station I had passed on my way to this house, longer hair was the style here.
My throat closed as if forbidding me to speak and instead I stared at the boy in front of me, he sure was handsome, I couldn't stop looking at him. Yet I wasn't attracted to him, not in that heart throb way - though I would be lying to say my heart wasn't pounding. Another boy appeared behind him, younger and with hair more the color of mine and eyes to match - greenish gray, his were more gray, mine more green but they were cut from the same material if you know what I mean.
"Who is it Soda?" the younger one asked.
They both stared at me for the answer, of course. But could I give it to them? Would they even believe me?
"Amber…my name is Amber…Amber July Curtis" I tried to pull my hand out of my pocket with the piece of paper, my birth certificate marking my date of birth as six months prior making me fifteen and my parents as Robin and Darrel Curtis.
The two boys watched me fumble while another boy called to them from inside to shut the door, they weren't paying to heat the neighborhood.
It sure was cold outside, maybe that's why my fingers were so numb and not working.
I handed the older boy, Soda, the folded paper. Carefully, so as not to rip the aged and worn-out document he unfolded it, keeping one eye on what he was doing, the other on me.
The younger boy was staring at me unsure of what to do, clearly he thought I was crazy, I didn't blame him, for all I knew I had the wrong house, or my parents had moved, maybe I got the information wrong, maybe this wasn't my family…
"Sodapop, I thought I told you to close the door…" The boy from inside came to a halt behind his brothers and stood staring at me as Soda handed the paper back to the slightly taller form behind him.
"Darry…it's Amber" He whispered.
They knew me, I didn't know them, but at least I had the right house.
"Guys…what's going on?" The youngest boy asked.
We made eye contact, his look went straight to my soul, he could see everything, he would know everything, feel everything. I didn't notice the cold anymore.
My cheeks flushed while theirs paled.
Darry pushed open the screen door and invited me inside.
With a tentative step I entered the dimly lit house, Soda flipped on another light making me squint while my eyes readjusted, I dropped my stuffed duffle bag to the floor. Well it wasn't my duffle bag, I had found it in my house in an upstairs closet, but that didn't matter now.
The door closed, they were no longer heating the neighborhood.
We went in to the kitchen, seating ourselves around a worn out table.
"Soda?" The youngest boy looked at his brother in confusion, then back to me.
"Ponyboy…Amber" Darry nodded towards me "Amber is our sister…your twin sister."
My eyes met his again, this time mirroring the confusion I'm sure he could see in mine. So all three of these boys, they were my brothers. I never had brothers before.
"I don't understand" Ponyboy said for the both of us.
"When you guys were born, things were real tough ya know? We had even less money than now, Mom's older sister was married to this rich guy, they couldn't have kids and offered to adopt Amber." Darry explained.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Ponyboy asked looking from one brother to the other indignantly, but mostly hurt. I wanted to take his hand, it was hard to see any human being look so hurt, but I noticed how similar the shapes of our nail beds were and it made my stomach turn. I didn't know this boy, but we had the same fingers. I kept mine to myself.
"We agreed that you didn't need to know, they took Amber far away, to…"
"Arizona" I supplied in a near whisper, feeling dazed and nervous. I couldn't stop fidgeting and my stomach was still protesting its new surroundings.
Darry nodded and continued "We didn't want you trying to chase her down, and we made a promise to Aunt Lydia never to make contact with them again, she wanted to be the only family Amber knew. Mom and Dad had to agree to it, it was either that or starve, they were desperate…none of us ever knew where she was, there was no contact".
"Then how'd you find us?" Ponyboy asked staring at me in bewilderment
I felt tears cloud my eyes and the boys around the table became a blur, "my father had a heart attack a few years ago, he was alone in his office, no one knew until he didn't come home for dinner that night," I said knowing I was crying, but unable to stop myself. I had once thought you could run out of tears, I knew different now.
"What about Aunt Lydia?" Darry asked handing me a handkerchief that I declined to use, wiping my eyes on the sleeve of my sweater instead. I didn't mean it as an insult, but I'm afraid that's what it looked like.
I felt like a hand was squeezed around my heart choking it up into my throat, I was sure I couldn't talk but somehow I managed the word "cancer," before tears spilled over again and prevented me from talking.
No one said anything while I struggled to control my crying, and eventually exhaustion took the place of emotion and I felt like I could continue, "by the time the doctors knew what was wrong with her, she was already so sick," I shook my head and swiped at my eyes again with my sleeve, "they tried to fight it, but she knew it wasn't working, she wanted me to be safe, we didn't have any other family so she told me to come here."
"After all these years, she finally told you the truth?" Darry asked
"She never meant to hurt me," I said, "I know it".
It didn't look like any of them believed me, or believed that it was me, and my eyes ached from tired and crying, but there was still something I needed to know:
I cleared my throat "Where are my parents?"
A new knot was forming at the pit of my stomach, there was no sign of parental care in the kitchen in which I was seated.
My brothers exchanged uncomfortable looks, Darry, who already looked tired, sighed, his way of taking on the task of telling me.
"Mom and Dad….died….about two years ago, in a car accident" He looked horrified to have to say those words out loud. He continued to speak but I couldn't hear him.
The cold from outside seeped inside, around the house, into the kitchen and deep down into my body.
Two times now I was an orphan, the reality hit me like a ton of bricks and I had to keep reminding myself to breathe.
"Do you want a cup of coffee or something?" Soda asked, his eyes full of worry and sympathy.
"Water," I mumbled, my throat felt so dry I doubted I could swallow.
I was handed a cold glass a minute later, wet with condensation and took a sip and put it back down knowing I'd throw up if I drank any more.
Standing up I made my way to the door, I had no more reason to be here, my parents, my real parents who I never really met were dead. I really had no where to go, no more parents, I was given more parents than most kids and yet I had already run out.
"Where are you going?" The voice sounded blurry as I stumbled towards the door. I felt drunk, it brought back the memory of the time my friend Maxine and I had gone shot for shot at my house in Arizona earlier that year, so drunk off Vodka that my mom had grounded me for a month when I came stumbling down the stairs singing Elvis at the top of my lungs.
I reached the door and hung onto the handle for dear life turning to see Ponyboy panic stricken.
You can't leave" He came over and pried my fingers off the door, his touch was real gentle but you could tell he was tough for his age, real strong.
He led me to the threadbare couch, I sunk down into it wishing I could disappear into the cushions, or at least lie down and sleep until this all went away.
"Please stay," his voice was real soft for a tough guy.