Chapter 10:
I got home at around 9 o'clock, which was a time that Darry wasn't happy with, considering it was a school night and all, but it satisfied him. When I first walked into the door I prayed that he wouldn't bother me with questions about my night at Meg's, and to my surprise, he didn't. I think he was too busy and tired from doing taxes, trying to keep me and Soda at home, and worrying about him in the hospital. I was glad he didn't ask.
Weekends for me have always been about going to a movie at the Nightly Double or lighting up behind the bowling alley with the guys. But for whatever reason, this time I felt like I wanted to do something with Meg. Don't get me wrong, I loved hanging with the guys. It was a time where we could all get together and just...be. We never did anything spectacular (except of course for that one infamous night with Johnny), but somehow I always felt happy being with them, arguing over what cars are tuff and what the hottest movie out now was. Since Johnny's death, though, I found our conversations a little bit tainted. I found myself wondering what he, or even Dally for that matter, would have said in response to Two-Bit's remark on the Mickey Mouse's latest scheme. I found myself missing the two of them more than I usually did. I found myself feeling lonely. So, most of the time I just forced the ideas out of my head before they began to elaborate any further.
"Hey," I said, walking up behind Meg, her bright blonde locks of hair bouncing as she whipped around to see me. She smiled and replied with the same word as I had started our conversation with.
"Um, so this weekend . . . I was wondering if you'd wanna' do something?" I said, in a pretending-to-be-casual-but-really-trying-very-hard way. I think she picked up on this, but nonetheless she said she'd love to. I felt a huge weight being lifted off my shoulders, but that carefree feeling went away shortly.
I walked into seventh period English, feeling happy-go-lucky at the thought of my date with Meg. A felt my stomach drop suddenly when I looked over at the seat next to me. Cherry was sitting there by herself, surprisingly with none of her friends laughing and joking immaturely by the side of her desk. She was just sitting there, twiddling her pen, waiting for class to start. I suddenly felt an obligation to talk to her, to ask what was wrong and how I could make it better. WHAT? I heard a little voice asking in my ear; well, screaming in my ear. I had never once talked to Cherry at school, why would I start now? I didn't realize, up until that point that I had been staring at her this whole time. I quickly looked away, but I still thought about her.
While I was thinking of Cherry, I also began asking myself why we had totally ignored each other this year. I pondered this throughout most of class. Finally I came to a conclusion. She reminded me of Dally and Johnny, and of the kids in the church, and of blue mustangs and sunsets. So much had happened in such a short time period it seemed, and Cherry was a walking, breathing reminder of everything. I found that every time I looked at her, I saw Johnny lying face-first on the hospital bed, or Dally scrambling to catch his breath while running into the bright streetlight. It was just too much to take, and while I knew a part of me wanted to talk to Cherry again, I wasn't sure if I could. Or at least, not yet.