I woke up late Monday morning and covered my head with the pillow. I
forgot to pull the drapes again.
"Marcia!" My mother's horrible, 'wake up now' tone. I didn't want to go to school, though I did look forward to seeing Two bit.
"Breakfast?" My mother pushes breakfast on me though I usually just have a cup of coffee. What should she care if I eat it? The maid cooks it anyway.
In the car I start thinking, I start thinking that my associating with Two bit might not go over so well. Sure it was fun to kind of bug Randy and Cherry but everyone? That's the one hand. On the other it makes it forbidden, and at that thought I get a funny twinge of pleasure deep in my stomach.
I pull into the parking lot and glance around for Cherry's little sting ray. I don't see it. I didn't really expect to. She's mourning.
I go into school, head held high. I realize I don't know where Two bit hangs out at school, I'd never noticed him at school really. But the greasers, when they even go to school at all, tend to hang out in a few spots. The smoking yard by the football field, under the bleachers, and the far end of the parking lot. Us socs have the hallways, the smoking room in the school and the break room by the counselor's office, and the part of the parking lot near the school.
I'm surrounded almost the moment I walk into the school. Word doesn't take long to get around. Bob was a very popular guy, very good looking, and a charming bastard, too.
They all talk at me at once, I can't make out anything. I just catch snatches here and there.
"Marcia, what happened..."
"You were at the movie with the..."
"Did you see..."
"Marcia, did..."
I wanted to cover my ears and hum. But I just stood there and let them bombard me.
"Was he drunk? Was Bob drunk?" The first complete sentence I could make out in the din. A blonde with scooped up hair and a flair skirt said it.
"Drunk? Of course. When wasn't he?" I was still trying to get to my locker. Maybe famous people feel this way. They must hate it.
"You were at that movie with the kid who killed Bob?" Another girl said this, she had mousy hair and fancy clothes. I nodded at her, pushing through people to get to my stupid locker.
"What was he like? Did he say he was gonna kill him?" she pressed me, blocking my way to my locker.
"He was, I don't know, quiet. Of course he didn't say he was gonna kill him," I shoved her aside, as gently as I could, and started twisting the lock of the locker.
I gathered my books and went to my homeroom, where everyone stared at me and whispered behind their hands, but I could make it out. 'She was there that night, she sat with the murderers at the movie..." and on like that.
I couldn't pay attention in class, I could only pay attention to the sunlight patterns on the polished floors of the classrooms, I could only hear the soothing, sleepy tones of the teachers' voices but couldn't make out the words.
At lunchtime I wanted to go home, I wanted to search the greasers' hang outs for Two bit, I wanted to go sit in my car and ignore everything. I went to the cafeteria and sat with my usual group of acquintances. They grilled me about Friday night in high, girlish tones.
"Oh my God, Marcia! What happened that night?" I closed my eyes and spoke, "I really don't feel like talking about it," They wouldn't quit, though.
"Ponyboy was in my english class. I never thought he'd be involved in something like that! He's so smart, and quiet, so polite..."
"Yeah, for one of those dirty greasers, I guess he was polite..."
"It wasn't Ponyboy who killed Bob, though. No. It was that other kid, the kid with the black hair, what's his name?"
"Johnny Cade, right? Yeah, that kid is so quiet, wouldn't say boo to a ghost..."
"It never would of happened if Cherry hadn't ditched Bob at the movies..." My eyes were still closed. How did they know all this?
"Marcia?" They gasped collectively and I opened my eyes, knowing already who I would see. Two bit Mathews.
"Uh, hi," I felt weird, felt so happy to see him but also acutely aware of the dissapproving eyes of my girlfriends. Their mouths were little o's.
"My car is working, you wanna go for a drive?" The girls at the table stared at me in horror and I had to suppress a giggle. He looked tough with the cuts from his fight with Randy and the clothes he wore, like a hood. His hair was long enough to touch the collar of his shirt. I couldn't resist him.
"O.K." I said, getting up, feeling the eyes of the girls on me. I didn't think I'd be coming back to school.
The day was bright and cool, perfect weather for a sweater. Two bit lit up a cigarette and handed it to me. I took a few puffs and felt the nicotine buzz, I squinted up at the sun, heard the click click of our shoes on the asphalt.
"It's all over school, huh?" he said, pitching his cigarette toward an orange mustang. It landed on the hood. I didn't think it was an accident.
"Yeah, they won't leave me alone," I said, and pitched my own cigarette. We reached his car and by the looks of it it was a wonder it could even run. I got in and felt the heat trapped in the car, felt the stinging heat from the leather seat. Through the warped window the parking lot and the school beyond looked hazy, rippled, distorted. Two bit started up the car and flipped the radio on. A Rolling Stones' song came on. I liked the funky, devilish rhythm of those songs. Two bit leaned over and kissed my neck softly, then my cheek, then my lips. I closed my eyes and noticed the scent of his cologne, felt the softness of the old leather jacket he wore.
"Where do you want to go?" he said, his voice soft and deep.
"I don't care," I said.
"Marcia!" My mother's horrible, 'wake up now' tone. I didn't want to go to school, though I did look forward to seeing Two bit.
"Breakfast?" My mother pushes breakfast on me though I usually just have a cup of coffee. What should she care if I eat it? The maid cooks it anyway.
In the car I start thinking, I start thinking that my associating with Two bit might not go over so well. Sure it was fun to kind of bug Randy and Cherry but everyone? That's the one hand. On the other it makes it forbidden, and at that thought I get a funny twinge of pleasure deep in my stomach.
I pull into the parking lot and glance around for Cherry's little sting ray. I don't see it. I didn't really expect to. She's mourning.
I go into school, head held high. I realize I don't know where Two bit hangs out at school, I'd never noticed him at school really. But the greasers, when they even go to school at all, tend to hang out in a few spots. The smoking yard by the football field, under the bleachers, and the far end of the parking lot. Us socs have the hallways, the smoking room in the school and the break room by the counselor's office, and the part of the parking lot near the school.
I'm surrounded almost the moment I walk into the school. Word doesn't take long to get around. Bob was a very popular guy, very good looking, and a charming bastard, too.
They all talk at me at once, I can't make out anything. I just catch snatches here and there.
"Marcia, what happened..."
"You were at the movie with the..."
"Did you see..."
"Marcia, did..."
I wanted to cover my ears and hum. But I just stood there and let them bombard me.
"Was he drunk? Was Bob drunk?" The first complete sentence I could make out in the din. A blonde with scooped up hair and a flair skirt said it.
"Drunk? Of course. When wasn't he?" I was still trying to get to my locker. Maybe famous people feel this way. They must hate it.
"You were at that movie with the kid who killed Bob?" Another girl said this, she had mousy hair and fancy clothes. I nodded at her, pushing through people to get to my stupid locker.
"What was he like? Did he say he was gonna kill him?" she pressed me, blocking my way to my locker.
"He was, I don't know, quiet. Of course he didn't say he was gonna kill him," I shoved her aside, as gently as I could, and started twisting the lock of the locker.
I gathered my books and went to my homeroom, where everyone stared at me and whispered behind their hands, but I could make it out. 'She was there that night, she sat with the murderers at the movie..." and on like that.
I couldn't pay attention in class, I could only pay attention to the sunlight patterns on the polished floors of the classrooms, I could only hear the soothing, sleepy tones of the teachers' voices but couldn't make out the words.
At lunchtime I wanted to go home, I wanted to search the greasers' hang outs for Two bit, I wanted to go sit in my car and ignore everything. I went to the cafeteria and sat with my usual group of acquintances. They grilled me about Friday night in high, girlish tones.
"Oh my God, Marcia! What happened that night?" I closed my eyes and spoke, "I really don't feel like talking about it," They wouldn't quit, though.
"Ponyboy was in my english class. I never thought he'd be involved in something like that! He's so smart, and quiet, so polite..."
"Yeah, for one of those dirty greasers, I guess he was polite..."
"It wasn't Ponyboy who killed Bob, though. No. It was that other kid, the kid with the black hair, what's his name?"
"Johnny Cade, right? Yeah, that kid is so quiet, wouldn't say boo to a ghost..."
"It never would of happened if Cherry hadn't ditched Bob at the movies..." My eyes were still closed. How did they know all this?
"Marcia?" They gasped collectively and I opened my eyes, knowing already who I would see. Two bit Mathews.
"Uh, hi," I felt weird, felt so happy to see him but also acutely aware of the dissapproving eyes of my girlfriends. Their mouths were little o's.
"My car is working, you wanna go for a drive?" The girls at the table stared at me in horror and I had to suppress a giggle. He looked tough with the cuts from his fight with Randy and the clothes he wore, like a hood. His hair was long enough to touch the collar of his shirt. I couldn't resist him.
"O.K." I said, getting up, feeling the eyes of the girls on me. I didn't think I'd be coming back to school.
The day was bright and cool, perfect weather for a sweater. Two bit lit up a cigarette and handed it to me. I took a few puffs and felt the nicotine buzz, I squinted up at the sun, heard the click click of our shoes on the asphalt.
"It's all over school, huh?" he said, pitching his cigarette toward an orange mustang. It landed on the hood. I didn't think it was an accident.
"Yeah, they won't leave me alone," I said, and pitched my own cigarette. We reached his car and by the looks of it it was a wonder it could even run. I got in and felt the heat trapped in the car, felt the stinging heat from the leather seat. Through the warped window the parking lot and the school beyond looked hazy, rippled, distorted. Two bit started up the car and flipped the radio on. A Rolling Stones' song came on. I liked the funky, devilish rhythm of those songs. Two bit leaned over and kissed my neck softly, then my cheek, then my lips. I closed my eyes and noticed the scent of his cologne, felt the softness of the old leather jacket he wore.
"Where do you want to go?" he said, his voice soft and deep.
"I don't care," I said.