A/N: Awww... you guys are too sweet. i heart my reviewers! k, i had most of this written already and just felt like posting it to get it out of the way because i have so many other things in the works. hope you like it!
Disclaimer: nope. still don't own em.
After the third attempt, I finally was able to yank open the lock on my locker, and a piece of paper came flying out onto the floor. Odd- I didn't remember placing any lose papers there.
Upon picking it up, I realized it had been the algebra test that I had taken that morning, only it wasn't mine. The name Randy Adderson was written on the top, and a large red F was circled on the front. I flipped it over.
Jaime-
I studied for this test for a week. You caught me so off-guard that I couldn't concentrate. You seem real nice, and I want to get to know you a little better. What do you say? If you want, meet me at the Nightly Double at seven.
Randy
Two-Bit threw his arm over my shoulder. "You ready to head home, kid?"
I rolled my shoulders back to make him release me. "I gotta go to work, Two-Bit. Tell Dar I'll be home by six."
"Sure thing, shorty," he replied, walking in the other direction.
I walked to the dinner on the corner of Picket and Sutton. Nothing really eventful happened, unless you call getting straw wrappers blown at you by Curly Shepard "eventful". I was ecstatic when I changed out of my uniform, my boss handed me my paycheck, and I was able to start walking to the Curtis' house.
I stopped short. Soda was walking down towards the park, his fists jammed in his pockets, his shoulders shaking. Was he crying? I jogged to the end of the block and crossed the street to meet him by the fountain.
"Sodapop, are you alright?"
He looked up at me suddenly, tears flowing over the brim of his eyes. "Yeah, Jaime, I'm fine."
I grabbed his shoulders and sat him down on the edge of the pool. He sat down with a thud and I knelt beside him. "You don't seem fine."
"It's about Sandy," he choked.
I rolled my eyes. How many times had I expressed to him after she moved to Florida that she wasn't worth his time? Apparently those speeches made little difference to him.
"What happened now?" I questioned, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, but failing miserably. I sat down beside him, aggravated.
He shoved his hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a crumpled envelope addressed to Florida with a seal in a corner that read "return to sender". Upon further examination, I saw that it had not even been opened. I rolled my eyes, wondering why this bothered him so much, but then I saw the tears that were escaping his eyes.
I gently brought his head down on my shoulder and let him cry it out. "Shh, Soda. Come here, baby, it's okay."
He wiped his eyes. "I really thought she loved me, Jaime. But it wasn't my baby. It wasn't my baby," he sobbed into my neck. "I told her everything would be okay, I told her I would marry her, I told her not to worry, that it would all be alright. And she didn't even read the letter. I thought she loved me."
I hugged him and he clung to the sleeves of my sweatshirt. Sighing, I knew I had to tell him the truth. "Sodapop, it's my fault."
He looked up at me, his eyes red and puffy. "What do you mean?"
I rubbed my hands up and down my arms. "Let's just say that I had a little, um, conversation, with Sandy before she left."
Soda now pushed himself up and looked at me, nearly furious, and it scared me because I had never seen him so serious. "Jaime, what did you do?"
I shrugged and said casually, "Nothing! I just explained to her, quite calmly, that if she got in contact with you again, I would hunt her down and rip her eyeballs out of her sockets, break both of her legs, and torture her in ways so beyond her imagination that she would need therapy."
He pushed my shoulder back. "Jaime!"
I pushed him back down and began explaining, "Look, Soda, I'm sorry, but she took advantage of you. She was carrying another guy's baby and she broke your heart. No woman is worth your tears," I whispered, smudging a falling tear, "and the one who is won't make you cry. Thinking about a little whore like that, who caused you so much pain already, is just a waste of your time."
He grinned. "I guess you're right."
"Sodapop, I'm always right."
He lovingly punched my shoulder. "Well you don't have to rub it in."
I stopped as I examined the envelope once more, noticing that the "return to sender" seal was over a month old. "Sodapop, when did you get this?"
"Two weeks ago," he said, still shakily.
I laughed cheaply to myself. Two weeks ago- two weeks ago Dally and Johnny had died. Two weeks ago, Ponyboy was writhing in his bed, insisting how he hated baloney. Two weeks ago, I saw my brother harden all the more and turn his back to everyone but Soda. Two weeks ago had been a different world.
"Then why are you…" I trailed off, wondering.
He shook his head. "Yeah, Pony and Darry cornered me about it one night, but I've just been feeling alone the past few days. Thinking on this just made it worse. What did I do wrong?"
I leaned towards him as his unshed tears resurfaced. "Sweetheart, you didn't do anything wrong, okay? Besides, have you forgotten something?" I cupped his face in my hands. "You're not alone. You've always got me."
He smiled and kissed my cheek. "Thanks, Jaime." I gasped before I came back to earth. Even if I had known Soda my entire life, no one can recover from the slightest touch of him instantly.
I ruffled his hair. "No problem, Sodapop. Now, come on. I've got to hurry and get this to Darry," I said, patting the envelope in my pocket so that the coins within it jingled.
He put his arm around my shoulder and we walked the few blocks to the Curtis house. Of course, it was loud as usual- we could hear the general racket of everyone inside even though we were half a block away, but we were shocked to find that it was only Darry, sitting at the dining room table paying bills, and Ponyboy, watching television. I hopped over the arm of the couch onto Ponyboy's lap. Pony got the wind knocked out of him, but once he got used to my weight on him, he smiled and embraced me warmly. Sodapop threw his jacket to the floor and plopped down beside his brother.
I got up and walked over to Darry. "Hey, Superman," I said, handing him my paycheck envelope. I winked. It was the least I could possibly do. Steve and I both gave Darry our paychecks, since he did more for us than our own father. In essence, Darry was like a father to me. He made me stay inside with Ponyboy most of the time and study, he made sure he was the one who saw my report card, and he was the one who I had to deal with if I screwed up. He really didn't have only two kids to take care of. We all ate there, slept there, and took refuge there. He really had five kids. Sure, I had a father, but Darry was my Dad.
I used to give him every cent after his parents died, but he must have thought it was pity because he told me to stop and keep most for myself. I really could've cared less about the money, since one time or another my father would cross the line and get Steve or me annoyed and give us money the next morning.
He smiled and gave my shoulder a playful punch. "Thanks, Jaime."
I gave him a hug from behind. "No problem, Darry."
He smirked. "Now hand it over."
I winced. I had hoped he'd forgotten.
Ponyboy laughed and motioned to a folded piece of paper on the coffee table and a torn envelope beside it. "He saw mine already, Jaime. He knows you have yours. It's not worth it, just give it to him."
I let my shoulders fall and pulled out my report card from my back pocket, sitting down between Pony and Soda resignedly.
He sat down in his armchair and looked it over. "How did you go from an A to an A minus in English, but you got an A plus on your progress report?"
I explained, "I missed a few assignments that week when Ponyboy got sick, Dar." I didn't have the heart to say that I missed work because I had to attend Johnny and Dally's funerals, and Darry knew it.
Just the thought of it made me sick and Ponyboy held me tighter. The images wouldn't leave my mind: Proud Dallas was lying in a casket, his numerous bullet wounds visible beneath his shirt and the same satisfied smirk still etched on his face. Johnny's funeral was worse if it was possible- he looked as if someone threw him into his casket, his horrifyingly horrible burns clearly visible and his hair not even greased. Steve had played with it as he knelt down at the edge of Johnny's casket. "Dally always said you could never keep that hair back," he whispered in a broken voice so that only me and Sodapop heard him. "That's what you get, then, eh? That's what you get."
Darry gave a solemn nod of understanding, though he still didn't seem that pleased. I sighed and leaned my head against Pony's shoulder, watching whatever it was that was on TV. "You got a C in Physics?" Darry shouted, outraged, shooting out of his chair and letting the report fall to the floor.
I cringed and moved closer to Pony.
Ponyboy patted my shoulder. "Sorry, kid," he whispered, urging me to stand up.
Darry crossed his arms over his chest and angled his face upwards, not needing to say anything, just emphasizing that I needed to explain myself, and fast. "Darry, that's a college course! I only got promoted to senior today, and that's still my junior card. Give me a break, yeah?"
Ponyboy stuffed his face in a pillow to keep from laughing. He knew as well as I did that Darry would never go for that excuse. I elbowed him roughly in the ribs.
"That's the point, Jaime! You're a senior now, even if you are only sixteen, and if you're smart enough to be promoted, you should be smart enough to take control of this course! Why they even bothered promoting you with a C, I have no idea," he hollered, and continued rambling about my irresponsibility.
I interrupted, "They said I wasn't 'being challenged enough' in the majority of my courses. Physics wasn't included because I was already in advanced placement for that. Come on, Darry."
Ponyboy was about to stick up for me, but Darry pointed his finger at him before a word could escape his lips. "You're in the same boat as Jaime right now, Ponyboy Michael, so I wouldn't dare open your mouth if I were you."
Pony sat back and just watched me take it then.
Sodapop gave Darry an evilly harsh glare. I had never seen Sodapop look that angry, save the time he reminded Darry that he and Pony weren't to fight anymore, and, upon realization, he was probably giving Darry the same reminder about me now. Darry took one glance at him and apparently took it to heart because his reddened face returned to its normal shade and his muscles became less tense, puffing out a heavy sigh.
Darry sighed heavily. "But I guess you're trying your hardest, and that's what matters." Pony and I both let our jaws drop and I fell backwards onto the cushion beside him. Soda smiled in satisfaction.
He smiled at our reactions and scanned over the rest. "Other than that, Jaime, it's a fantastic report card, and I'm really proud of you."
I gave a hopeful smile. "Does that mean that I can go out to the Nightly Double tonight, Darry?" He didn't look convinced and I pouted out my lower lip.
"Do you have any homework this weekend?"
I shook my head.
"Any pending projects?"
I shook my head again.
"Are you just saying you're going to go to the movies and go to the drag race with Steve and Soda like last time?"
I shuddered at the memory and shook my head once more, as did Soda. I giggled. "Darry, you seriously think that Steve would bring me to another drag race after what happened last time?"
Darry chuckled. "I guess not. Who are you going to the movies with?"
I shook my head in an automatic reaction, but then responded, "Can't I just go by myself and have a good time either way?" I was just glad that I didn't have to tell him the truth right then. Then I shrugged, trying to make a legitimate excuse that would throw him off. "But if the guys want to come, they're welcome to." I knew that if the guys did decide to join me, I could and go with Cherry when I "ran into her", but of course I knew where I'd be later on- in the smooth leather seat of Randy Adderson's Mustang.
"Fine," Darry said, releasing the tension in his shoulders, continuing to scribble across the checks.
I got up and hugged him tightly. "Oh, thank you thank you thank you, Dar!" I had never dared to lie to Darry before, and to my surprise, it was easier than I had thought it would be.
Darry motioned that I was cutting off his air. I recoiled before I actually did.
I looked to Ponyboy, but he shrugged. "I don't feel like going out tonight."
Soda put up his hand. "I actually am going to the drag race." When Darry scowled at him, Soda said defensively, "But I'm not bringing Jaime with me, I swear." He placed one hand over his chest and the other up in the air. Then he did an impression of Darry's speech. "Sodapop, she's too young, and she could get hurt. You know how I hate the idea of you going enough, so Jaime is out of the question."
Darry nodded, unaware or uncaring that Soda was poking fun at him. Maybe he was just used to it by now.
Darry then turned back to me. "You had better watch your back, Jaime. Those Brumly boys are gonna be on your tail after your… um… encounter at the race. Don't you forget that-"
Sodapop interrupted him. "That the Brumly boys are perverts. She knows it already, Darry."
Darry nodded. "And-"
Ponyboy leaned back. "And they'll stop at nothing to get a girl."
Darry chuckled, but then continued. "And-"
I rolled my eyes again and finished, "And they'll do whatever they have to so they can get in my pants, so I should avoid them as much as I possibly can. Come on, Darry. If you've said it enough for Ponyboy to remember it, I think I've got the message."
Ponyboy, realizing the insult about a minute too late, whacked me with a pillow. I elbowed him in return. He hit me twice as hard with the pillow again, and I tackled him to the floor. He fought back, but not hard enough. He had me in a headlock, but with one swift kick to the shin, he released me and I took his neck in my arms and forced him into the carpet, twisting his arm behind his back as I forced his face into the rug.
"Cool it, you two," Darry said from his spot in his chair, not really using the tone that meant he was serious, so we ignored it.
"Holler uncle," I demanded.
"You wish," Ponyboy mumbled.
I pressed harder, digging my knees into the back of his thighs. "What was that?" I questioned. "I didn't quite hear you."
"No way," Pony insisted, and I applied more pressure.
"Are you sure that's your answer?" I murmured. I twisted his arm further and bent his thumb backwards.
"Uncle!" he finally cried.
I got up and threw my arms up in success. Sodapop shook his head and whacked us both with another pillow, muttering "Moron," to himself as he looked at me. I straddled him and pressed his shoulders into the couch cushion, kneeing him gently in the stomach. He had me down on the floor in an instant. We wrestled until he had his legs across my waist, my shoulders pinned to the floor beneath his hands. "Cry uncle," he demanded.
"Enough, all of you," Darry ordered. Sodapop let me go and helped me out, but had a victorious smile plastered on his face. I scrunched my nose at him and he stuck out his tongue. I smacked him in the back of his head and he was about to retaliate when Darry grunted, "Hey, I meant it. Quit it."
Sodapop and I obeyed Darry for about three seconds before we tackled each other into the couch. Darry stood up, and now we knew we were in for it. He grabbed us both by the collars of our shirts and separated us. Then he slung his arm around my shoulder and dragged me into the hall. "C'mon, Jay. Are you gonna eat before you leave?"
I shrugged. "Sure. What are we having?"
Darry shrugged as well as he sat back down and continued writing out checks. "I don't know. Ask Two-Bit."
I laughed. "Why would I ask Two-Bit?"
Darry said, like it was obvious, "Because he's cooking."
"What?" I screamed. I yanked on Darry's sleeve. "But Darry, I want to live!" He clapped me on the shoulder and laughed, not realizing that I was completely serious. I insisted, "Darry, do you want your entire house burnt to the ground? Dear God, think of the consequences!"
Two-Bit came in from the kitchen, and I clamped my hand over my mouth to stop guffawing. He was in one of Mrs. Curtis' old frilly laced aprons and had his hands inside over mitts with apples and butterflies printed all over them. I nearly choked at the sight of such a hoodlum looking like a pansy TV-mother. "It just so happens, Ms. Randle," Two-Bit said, imitating a high-pitched female voice, "that I am an excellent cook!"
I followed him back into the kitchen. "Then what are you making?"
He pointed to several pots on the stove and opened the oven slightly, now exaggerating his speech with a heavy Italian accent. "Today, we have your pasta primavera, some spinach alfredo sauce, and your marinated chicken fingers for the Mr. Ponyboy." He pinched three fingertips together, kissed the point where they met, and smiled.
I pointed to the temperature switch. "Well, Two-Bit, it might help if you actually had the stove on."
He blushed slightly and turned all the knobs to the highest setting.
I hopped onto the counter, swiping his switchblade out of his back pocket and began polishing it. When you can inconspicuously snatch things from the most notorious pick-pocket in the city, that is saying something. "So how come you're stooping so low as to cook tonight?"
"What's wrong with that?" Two-Bit questioned, turning around and only then noticing that I had snatched his knife.
"It's a Friday night, Bits. You'd normally be out carousing by now. What- is the blonde-bedding business slowing down?"
"Oh yeah," he joked. "It's real slow.
I smirked and raised one eyebrow. "Wow. Two-Bit, I'm impressed. You've brought it down from six whores to only five a night? Good job!"
He grabbed my legs and yanked me off the counter, grabbing his blade back in the process. "Smartass," he grumbled.
I kissed his nose playfully. "I learn from the best."
He swatted me away and smacked my ass with a spare oven mitt. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said begrudgingly.
I pointed to the thin stream of smoke that was slowly seeping through the opening at the top of the oven door and up to the smoke detector on the ceiling. "Does that mean that it's ready?" I said as the alarm started beeping.
He chuckled sarcastically as Darry ran in. "What the hell-" he muttered upon surveying the scene, but then glared in Two-Bit's direction.
I could understand Darry's nervousness. Ever since the fire that Johnny and Pony were caught in, all the gang had smoke detectors put in their houses. We didn't want to go through a repeat of Johnny.
Ponyboy and Soda strolled in and sat down, much more calm. Pony mumbled under his breath to me, "You can tell it's done when you smell smoke."
Darry pulled out a chair as Two-Bit poured the contents of the pots onto five plates. "What time are you leaving, Jay?"
I grabbed Pony's wrist and looked at his watch. "Shit."
Darry knocked my jaw up slightly. "Hey, watch your language."
"I'd better go now. I'm gonna be late. Bye, guys."
"I thought you said you were gonna eat before you left," Darry said.
I nodded. "You're right." I grabbed a roll out of Sodapop's hand and took a small bite out of it. "I'm done. Bye."
"Okay. Have a good time, Jay," Darry said as I hugged his neck from behind.
"Yeah- don't do anything I wouldn't do, baby girl," Two-Bit murmured.
"Okay, so that leaves- nothing," Sodapop commented.
"All right, then don't do anything stupid, kid," Two-Bit shouted.
I shrugged innocently. "Who- me? Why, Two-Bit, I'm a little angel!"
He nearly choked on his pasta. "Yeah, are the horns just keeping your halo straight?"
I bolted for an exit, but Darry whistled and called me back. "Jamie Theresa-Lynn Randle, you'd better not even think about leaving this house without a jacket."
"I didn't bring one," I whined.
"Take mine, Jay. It's on the couch," Pony called.
I jumped onto the couch, grabbed the leather jacket, and slammed the door behind me. "Bye!"
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