Chapter 15 (Bear with me, it's almost done. Any Advice?)
It's been 6 months since I last saw my best friend. I vaguely remember that day: social services came, my Aunt lied to me, I wouldn't be staying in Tulsa. California? I didn't want to go to California. They told me that they would come back in an hour when my things were packed, but I wouldn't go with them. I didn't want to leave, but I was so tired of other people running my life, telling me where to go and who to be. In one hour I'd be on a bus bound for Manhattan, my big blue suitcase at my side, filled with clothes, records, my entire life's savings, and a lone picture of Pony and me eating cotton candy at the Oklahoma State Fair.
I stepped of the bus on 51st street, I'd been traveling for over a day, it was mid-afternoon. I can't remember how I survived the first week; I managed to stay off the streets at night and eventually I found a girl looking for a roommate.
That girl's name is Grace. She's 19 and currently attending NYU. On her off days, she gives singing lessons to young girls.
I work at a small coffee shop just outside Times Square everyday after school and on Saturdays. Yes, I still do go to school, but Grace thinks I'm 18. Sunday is my day off, I can always stay busy. New York City amazes me, I enjoy every minute of it. Freedom is awesome; I can do anything I want, anytime I want to. Sometimes I sit outside Broadway theatres and picture myself walking out of the stage door to meet a huge crowd of fans asking me for my autograph.
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"What is it about you
You're big
You're loud
You're tough NYC
I go years without you
Then I
Can't get
Enough
Enough of the cab drivers answering back
In the language far from pure
Enough of frankfurters answering back
Brother, you know you're in NYC
Too busy
Too crazy
Too hot
Too cold
Too late
I'm sold
Again
On NYC"
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"Hello, Delia." Mr. Matsu greeted me from behind the counter of the food market.
"Good Afternoon, Mr. Matsu." I replied, picking up a grocery basket. I was the normal grocery shopper; Grace was too busy with school to shop. I paid for the food and walked four blocks to our apartment. Those stairs to the third floor were a killer, especially with two full bags of groceries.
"Grace?" I called as I set the bags on the counter. There was a note on the counter:
Delia,
Out, should be back around 10:30.
-Grace
I hung out on the couch the rest of the day, staring at the phone. Call? I'd tried to call him a few times before. I dialed the first six numbers, but I hung up. I couldn't bear to hear his voice, but I wanted to so badly. I wondered if he hated me, I would hate me if I were him. I missed him.
I picked up the phone, determined. I dialed the number, my hands shaking wildly. It was ringing...Someone picked up.
"Hello?" It took me a minute to figure out who it was because his voice had changed from when I'd last seen him. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. My throat had tightened up.
"Hello?" He said again. "Hello?"
"Pony?" That was all I could manage, my voice was shaking and had a pinched sound to it from having to contain the sobs of relief in my throat.
"Who is this?" He spoke a little softer than before.
"It's Delia...no...it's Mattie." Wow, I was not used to that name. I breathed deeply and bit my lip to stop my eyes from tearing, but it didn't help. He remained silent. "I called to...to...I don't know why. I'm sorry I called...I'm gonna go." I wished he would say something.
"Where are you?" He whispered.
"I'm safe, that's all you have to know."
"No, that's not all I have to know! You left without even a "Goodbye". You didn't tell anyone where you were going. I spent months looking for you, anything could of happened. You could have been..." He stopped short.
"Dead?" When he didn't answer, I continued, "I tried to call, Pony, I really did, but I couldn't. You'd have wanted me to come back, but I couldn't...I can't come back."
"Why?"
"They'll never leave me alone, Pony, the social services. I'd bet on my life that they're just sitting there, waiting for me to come back."
"I want you to come back."
"I know."
"Where are you?"
"Stop asking that."
"Please tell me. You're not in Oklahoma anymore, are you? Did you go back to North Carolina?"
"I'm not going to tell you..."
"Or maybe you went somewhere out west..."
"I'm not telling..."
"Or maybe you went to Texas, that seems to be a popular place to run away to..."
"I'm in New York! Okay, I told you, are you happy?"
"I knew you would tell. You were never as stubborn as you thought you were."
"Promise me you won't do anything crazy." I begged.
"You mean, like you did?"
"Promise me, Curtis!"
"Okay, nothing crazy."
"Listen Pony, I've got to go..."
"Why? Don't hang up. Please."
"Pony, this phone bill is going to kill me."
"Can I at least have your number?"
"No, I'll call you tomorrow."
"Promise me, Mattie."
"I promise."
"Don't forget."
"I won't."
"I miss you."
"I miss you, too, Pony."
"Bye, then."
"Bye."
When the phone clicked off, emptiness formed in the pit of my stomach. If I had my way, I would've gone back to Tulsa and spent the rest of my days with Ponyboy Curtis. Maybe some things aren't meant to be. I wanted too many things, would I ever be satisfied?
"Goodnight, Pony."
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Please Review!
It's been 6 months since I last saw my best friend. I vaguely remember that day: social services came, my Aunt lied to me, I wouldn't be staying in Tulsa. California? I didn't want to go to California. They told me that they would come back in an hour when my things were packed, but I wouldn't go with them. I didn't want to leave, but I was so tired of other people running my life, telling me where to go and who to be. In one hour I'd be on a bus bound for Manhattan, my big blue suitcase at my side, filled with clothes, records, my entire life's savings, and a lone picture of Pony and me eating cotton candy at the Oklahoma State Fair.
I stepped of the bus on 51st street, I'd been traveling for over a day, it was mid-afternoon. I can't remember how I survived the first week; I managed to stay off the streets at night and eventually I found a girl looking for a roommate.
That girl's name is Grace. She's 19 and currently attending NYU. On her off days, she gives singing lessons to young girls.
I work at a small coffee shop just outside Times Square everyday after school and on Saturdays. Yes, I still do go to school, but Grace thinks I'm 18. Sunday is my day off, I can always stay busy. New York City amazes me, I enjoy every minute of it. Freedom is awesome; I can do anything I want, anytime I want to. Sometimes I sit outside Broadway theatres and picture myself walking out of the stage door to meet a huge crowd of fans asking me for my autograph.
#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%
"What is it about you
You're big
You're loud
You're tough NYC
I go years without you
Then I
Can't get
Enough
Enough of the cab drivers answering back
In the language far from pure
Enough of frankfurters answering back
Brother, you know you're in NYC
Too busy
Too crazy
Too hot
Too cold
Too late
I'm sold
Again
On NYC"
#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%#%
"Hello, Delia." Mr. Matsu greeted me from behind the counter of the food market.
"Good Afternoon, Mr. Matsu." I replied, picking up a grocery basket. I was the normal grocery shopper; Grace was too busy with school to shop. I paid for the food and walked four blocks to our apartment. Those stairs to the third floor were a killer, especially with two full bags of groceries.
"Grace?" I called as I set the bags on the counter. There was a note on the counter:
Delia,
Out, should be back around 10:30.
-Grace
I hung out on the couch the rest of the day, staring at the phone. Call? I'd tried to call him a few times before. I dialed the first six numbers, but I hung up. I couldn't bear to hear his voice, but I wanted to so badly. I wondered if he hated me, I would hate me if I were him. I missed him.
I picked up the phone, determined. I dialed the number, my hands shaking wildly. It was ringing...Someone picked up.
"Hello?" It took me a minute to figure out who it was because his voice had changed from when I'd last seen him. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. My throat had tightened up.
"Hello?" He said again. "Hello?"
"Pony?" That was all I could manage, my voice was shaking and had a pinched sound to it from having to contain the sobs of relief in my throat.
"Who is this?" He spoke a little softer than before.
"It's Delia...no...it's Mattie." Wow, I was not used to that name. I breathed deeply and bit my lip to stop my eyes from tearing, but it didn't help. He remained silent. "I called to...to...I don't know why. I'm sorry I called...I'm gonna go." I wished he would say something.
"Where are you?" He whispered.
"I'm safe, that's all you have to know."
"No, that's not all I have to know! You left without even a "Goodbye". You didn't tell anyone where you were going. I spent months looking for you, anything could of happened. You could have been..." He stopped short.
"Dead?" When he didn't answer, I continued, "I tried to call, Pony, I really did, but I couldn't. You'd have wanted me to come back, but I couldn't...I can't come back."
"Why?"
"They'll never leave me alone, Pony, the social services. I'd bet on my life that they're just sitting there, waiting for me to come back."
"I want you to come back."
"I know."
"Where are you?"
"Stop asking that."
"Please tell me. You're not in Oklahoma anymore, are you? Did you go back to North Carolina?"
"I'm not going to tell you..."
"Or maybe you went somewhere out west..."
"I'm not telling..."
"Or maybe you went to Texas, that seems to be a popular place to run away to..."
"I'm in New York! Okay, I told you, are you happy?"
"I knew you would tell. You were never as stubborn as you thought you were."
"Promise me you won't do anything crazy." I begged.
"You mean, like you did?"
"Promise me, Curtis!"
"Okay, nothing crazy."
"Listen Pony, I've got to go..."
"Why? Don't hang up. Please."
"Pony, this phone bill is going to kill me."
"Can I at least have your number?"
"No, I'll call you tomorrow."
"Promise me, Mattie."
"I promise."
"Don't forget."
"I won't."
"I miss you."
"I miss you, too, Pony."
"Bye, then."
"Bye."
When the phone clicked off, emptiness formed in the pit of my stomach. If I had my way, I would've gone back to Tulsa and spent the rest of my days with Ponyboy Curtis. Maybe some things aren't meant to be. I wanted too many things, would I ever be satisfied?
"Goodnight, Pony."
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