(This is a sort of introduction, just so you can get to know Jessie Curtis)
I was not in a good mood. It was 8:53 on a Thursday morning, I was due at school in exactly 7 minutes, my hand was throbbing from where I'd burnt it on my curling iron, and I'd gotten into a huge argument with my brother, Darry, over my blouse. It was the same argument we had every morning when I refused to fasten the top button, which was frequently.
Sodapop had pulled me aside, told me to "pickmy battles", gave me a hug, fastened my top button, and shooed me out the door. I appreciated Soda's little peacekeeping pep talks, I really did, but I often wondered why he never stood up for me, yet was always so quick to Ponyboy's defense.
Ponyboy was my twin brother, my biggest tormentor, my greatest annoyance, and my best friend. I was 9 minutes younger and Pony was always quick to point this out, that and how "unoriginal" my name was. Pony and I had little in common, except for our mutual respect for one another.
Sodapop was my second oldest brother; he teased me endlessly, but loved me more. I idolized and adored him, and he was always there for support and advice. Soda and I had bonded from day one, yet there were not two more opposite siblings. Soda was soft-spoken and open-minded, I was loud and stubborn. Soda was affectionate, I kept myself gaurded; Soda was reckless, I was cautious.
And then there was Darry, my oldest brother, and the only one who could exercise an ounce of discipline upon me. Darry and I didn't talk - we argued and we bickered. Anyone could see how similar we were, which was clearly the reason why we were constantly at each other's throats. I was always picking fights with Darry, pushing his buttons and challenging his authority, but I never once disobeyed him, for reasons I'm still unsure of. I suspected he didn't love me, which was just fine, seeing as the feeling was mutual.
Chapter One
It had been almost a 11 months since Johnny Cade and Dallas Winston had passed away. The only time anyone ever mentioned it was if they were drunk or half-asleep. It was a sore spot with all of the Greasers - everyone felt responsible. Ponyboy had changed significantly - his youthfullness had been replaced with an icy barrier much like Darry's. He was as spacey as ever, and still a wise-ass, but throughout the months after Johnny and Dally's deaths his boyishness had vanished and a moody teenager had moved in. We were both approaching 15 and Darry was constantly reminding us to 'watch our tones' and 'wise up' - he said we were turning into young adults and was unimpressed with our 'childish behaviour'. True to their words however, Darry and Pony hadn't fought once since they made that promise to Soda. They bickered, sure, but they made sure never to cross the boundary into a full fledged argument. I was just as pleased as Sodapop - there was definitely less tension in the house, something we were all thankful for.
It was a gloomy afternoon in March and I was sitting on the steps outside of school, waiting for Ponyboy. He always forgot stuff in his locker - books, tennis shoes, his comb - he was notorious for being absent-minded and we almost never got out of school without him running back to retrieve something. I was thumbing through his copy of Gone With The Wind when she sat down beside me. Cherry Valance. I despised her whole-heartedly and she knew it, so it was a mystery to me why she'd decided to grace me with her presence.
"Hey, Jessica," she said tentatively. When I didn't respond, she pressed on, "Look, I know we never really hit it off, but I've been meaning to tell you something since ...well, since Johnny died." She said the last part quickly, as if it'd be less of a blow.
I glanced up at her. What could she possibly have to tell me about Johnny's death?
"No one knows this ...not even Ponyboy ...but I, um, I visited Johnny in the hospital and -"
"You did what?" I spat. Cherry Valance was a Soc, born and bred. It made me cringe to think of her seeing Johnny out of pity.
She gave me a hard look, "You weren't the only one who cared about him, okay? I know I didn't know him for that long, but Johnny was an okay kid and it tore me up inside knowin' he was hurt so bad. I guess I ...well, I suppose I felt responsible in some way." She paused, apparently regaining her composure, and then continued. "Anyway, while I was there he gave me a note for you. At least, I think it's for you. The reason I didn't give it to you sooner was because I couldn't make out the name on it - he just handed it to me and said, 'Give this to her.' I finally figured out it said Jellybean, and then yesterday I heard Sodapop call you that when he picked you up from school so ...I guess this is for you."
She handed me a piece of yellowed notebook paper, which I took numbly. I was absolutely livid. I felt like she had intruded on my private grief - she was involved in some way, and it bothered me immensely. I consoled myself with the fact that Johnny was probably half unconcious when he'd given her the note so I wouldn't pull her silky, red hair out.
"Thanks." I muttered quickly, before standing up and bolting down the stairs. Ponyboy could catch up whenever he was done dawdling around. My heart was in my throat, and I could feel my eyes tearing, but I angrily fisted them away. In the days after Johnny's death, I'd cried myself dry. I literally passed out from sobbing once or twice. It had taken me months to recover enough to function normally, and I knew this note would bring back all those past hurts, which is why I stuffed it in my pocket without so much as glancing at it. I was suddenly spitting mad at Johnny Cade. How could he let someone like Cherry Valance relay such an important message to me? I felt completely violated, and was still lost in angry thought when someone grabbed my shoulders. "BOO!"
I spun around so fast I nearly got whiplash. Two-Bit was standing there, his eyes dancing, his grin mischevious. "Scare ya?" he asked, and then cackled maliciously.
I gave him a good, hard punch. "Glory, Two-Bit you scared me half to death!"
"Sorry, Jellybean. You looked so out of it, I couldn't resist." He draped his arm across my shoulder, and we continued walking.
"What's up, kid? You know better than to walk home alone."
I shrugged, unconcerned. "Ponyboy was taking a year to get his homework, so I just left." I decided to leave out the part about the note. I knew Two-Bit would encourage me to read it; I stuffed it farther down into my pocket.
"What do ya say we head on over to the lot? You can tell me what's wrong there."
I didn't bother asking how Two-Bit knew something was bothering me. He'd known me for so long, he could read me like a book. Actually, I don't think Two-Bit could read, but you get what I'm saying. "Sure, I guess."
When we reached the lot I flopped down onto the grass and dropped my school bag beside me. I didn't have to worry about sitting a certain way - instead of the preppy skirts that dominated our era, I lived in skin-tight jeans that hit just above the knee.
Most greaser girls in our area sported the same kind of attire, but my wardrobe was lacking in midriff bearing shirts and I didn't wear nearly as much eyeliner as the girls in our neighbourhood did. Darry would skin me if I ever decided to dress that way. I usually wore simple cotton blouses or borrowed one of Soda's plain white t-shirts. They smelled just like him - gasoline and a hint of girly perfume (it varied depending on who he was seeing).
Two-Bit sat down beside me and plunged right into it, "So what's buggin' ya, Jellybean?"
I had been prepared to make something up - me and Darry had argued that morning, I got a bad grade on my math test - but all the pent up hurt that had been recovered through my encounter with Cherry suddenly surfaced. My nose began to prickle and my eyes filled up with tears.
"I miss Johnny. And It's all her fault, all Cherry's fault, he died!" I sobbed, miserably.