Chapter 11

Guise

"It isn't that easy to get pregnant."

"How would you know, you ever try?"

I opened my mouth then closed it again before answering, "Everybody knows that…that's why you have to try."

"What was that thing they used to do…pissed on some fucking grass to find out."

A chuckle came from deep in my chest, my shoulders lifted up off of Angela's carpet and dropped back down. "My mama always said she'd know when she started craving pickles."

"Sliced or whole?"

I laughed again. When she didn't, I turned my head to look at her. She sat propped against the edge of her bed, her eyes were unfocused and cast toward a spot above my head. I sighed, I needed to get back to my house. "You ain't pregnant, Angela, you just ain't."

She blinked, her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "I figure if you're wrong, all I need is to get my stepdad riled up and he'll take care of the miscarriage for me."

"Won't come to that."

"You don't know that."

I didn't have any reason to be angry with her, irritated maybe, but not angry. If I were an understanding person, I would've mulled over my observation and let her wallow. I never had been that person. I never would be that person. "Does that upset you?"

She looked at me then. "What?"

"You want to be pregnant don't you, just a little?"

"Fuck you, Liz."

I sat up and got to my feet, and loomed over her as I said, "Get the fuck over it, get the fuck over him, I've already got that creep Steele up my ass about the whole thing, we don't need you getting hysterical and blabbing to the cops when you never even liked him."

She looked up. I expected her to sock me in the stomach, to leap up and rip half of the hair out of my head. But when I looked into her eyes there was nothing new, only the same grief and exhaustion I'd seen since the night Tommy died. I felt sick. I took a step away from her, and tore my eyes away from hers. I started to turn toward the door, before I could open it she spoke, "You're right, I never did, most of the time I just wanted him to fuck off."

I opened the door and stepped out, then shut it without looking back.

"What do y'all want to do for the fourth?" Darry asked through a mouthful of mashed potatoes at dinner that night. I wanted to shoot him a sarcastic grin, but figured I needed to be as pleasant as possible since we'd sat in silence for half-an-hour already. Soda hadn't made eye contact with me yet, as opposed to Ponyboy who kept shooting me looks like he wished I'd burst into flames.

I shrugged and went back to dragging my fork across my plate. I wondered if I should offer to do the dishes, or if that would seem too fake, if Ponyboy would scoff in my face as he handed me his plate.

"We could go to the lake," I didn't look up when Soda spoke, "or grill out here with the rest of the gang and some firecrackers."

"Maybe the smartest combination would be lake and firecrackers, if you're gonna use 'em." I could hear the amusement in Darry's voice.

"Hey, that was Lizzy who almost burned the house down last time." Then I did look up, and I could see the earnest and warmth in his dark brown eyes. My throat felt thick, and I wondered how I could be so dismissive toward my second oldest brother, that I could honestly believe he'd be nasty to me after every sour word I'd shot his way. That wasn't Soda.

"Nearly got away with blamin' it on you too." I smiled back at him.

Soda looked content, "Two-Bit'll like the lake idea better, all kinds of girls in bikinis for him to pick up."

"All kinds for you to shoot firecrackers at too. Didn't that used to be your favorite move?"

He knocked me in the shoulder.

I heard the screen door open while I sat on the porch later that night. I knew who it was.

"Where do you get the dough to buy so many of those?" Soda nodded at my pack of kools. I took a drag from the one already lit between my middle and index finger, then cocked an eyebrow at him. He smirked, "Oh right, right, I forgot you've been cozying up to the Shepards these days."

"What do you mean?"

I stared at him, the headlights of a car struck the right side of his profile as it cruised down our street. I could see the lines on his face more clearly, worry lines that hadn't been there before I left. He tapped my wrist and his eyes darted down to my pack. Once he had lit one up he turned to me expectantly. I felt something icy in my stomach, did he know? About the robberies, about Tommy, about Steele? I was pig-headed when it came to Soda, like most everybody else. I had always thought that if one of them were to catch me it'd be Ponyboy, Darry was too busy with work and other adult things.

"You are so lucky I didn't say nothin' to Dar with the way you been talkin' to me lately." I stayed silent, and he furrowed his brow at that. "Shit, what's up with you? What the hell do you think I'm gonna say?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. You've been catchin' me by surprise ever since I got back."

"You and Curly Shepard, I mean, sweetheart, don't tell me you thought that was insider knowledge, now." I started cursing before he finished his sentence, heat racing up my neck.

"Two-Bit said something didn't he?"

Soda studied my face, something glinted in his eyes. "Well no...cocky little bastard was tellin' anyone with two working ears at Buck's for a while, then at the Ribbon. Heard it from a couple of buddies of mine."

I scoffed. "Yeah, well…that's over, that's long, long over."

"Sorry if I don't take your wo—"

"Soda," he breathed heavily out of his nose, and put out the half-burned cigarette. I wished he would look at me. "I know…shit, if you were to ever believe a word I've said, Curly and I…just the whole things been ruined, you see. There ain't ever gonna be anything there ever again, for as long as I live, alright? Hell, I was just…I don't know…bored."

He chuckled. "You know I got Steve to come with me one night, all riled up and ready to put my foot up his ass," he opened and closed his mouth, then looked at me hesitantly, "listen, I believe you, and if you're gonna be tellin' me the truth right now, Lizzy, then I…"

The icy feeling in my gut returned. "What?"

"I found him in a back room…never seen somebody that gone before. I guess he's been doin' smack…is that why…Lizzy…"

I almost baulked in his face, or burst into laughter. "No, if he was shootin' up he never told me."

"You see Lizzy I knew that kid, I knew him his whole life, watched all the stupid shit he'd do to impress his brother. But I didn't recognize that person, couldn't even lift himself off of the bed when he saw me comin'."

I looked away from him, at the paint and wood chipping off from our porch, at the dust accumulating on the sides of Darry's windshield. "Yeah, must've been a sight."

"I thought you were gonna be tellin' the truth."

"You didn't ask me a question."

"Lizzy."

I lit up another cigarette. There was no telling what else Curly had blabbed about, surely there were a handful or more people who knew about the robberies, though that seemed like loaded enough information that it really might've been something Curly was rational enough to keep secret. Maybe Soda had known this whole time, maybe he was waiting for me to confess before he went to tell Darry. Maybe he did know about Tommy, and he'd been playing me since he joked around with me at dinner.

"What did you mean when you said it was all ruined?"

I exhaled smoke, and tried to sound embarrassed. "Do we gotta talk about this Soda, you really want me to give you the nitty gritty of me and Curly?" I turned to him expectantly, as if my half-assed attempt was enough to disinterest him. He said nothing. "Curly was…wantin' to get serious or something else stupid, and was…was in with a bad crowd of people and he always wanted me to come and hang out with 'em, so I just thought I might as well get out before things got messy. Clearly I was right."

"I can go and have a conversation about this with Darry this second if you don't start fessin' up."

I turned to him coldly. "I am. Every word I've told you is true, Soda, every single one."

"Who were the people he was gettin' involved with?"

"Out-of-towners, probably the same people dealin' him smack. I wasn't gonna wait and find out…isn't that enough?"

I supposed that the warmth he'd been adopting with me earlier really was a ploy, because now he felt as distant as ever. He stood up and brushed off the front of his jeans. "It'll be enough so long as we don't have any drama with social services, so long as that crowd don't turn up on our front por—"

"You honestly think I'm bummin' around with heroin dealers now?" I asked incredulously.

He cast a guarded look down toward me. "I don't know what to think about you these days. But I'm hopin' you put this family first. Pony and I could still get sent to a boy's home, you know that right?"

"That would be the worst thing, wouldn't it? Being sent away."

He turned away from me. "Don't be selfish." He shut the door behind him.

The next day I headed to the DX around lunchtime to get a Pepsi. If I wanted Soda to quit being suspicious of me then I needed him to think I wasn't angry, that I wasn't scared of getting caught. Besides, I wouldn't be spending much time with Angela or Curly anymore, and there wasn't much else to do around the house except watch Ponyboy do sit-ups and push-ups to get back in running shape.

There was a tuff looking blood-red car parked at one of the pumps. A dark-haired young man around Darry's age climbed out of the driver's seat, and I almost hissed and bolted when I saw his face.

Steele's pearly white smile lit up when he saw me, and he laughed out loud and clutched his stomach. "OK, it's got to be fate now, princess."

I growled, and hesitated a good ten seconds before briskly walking over to him. The way he grinned down at me made my cheeks burns, but did nothing to quell my irritation. "Keep your voice down and quit lookin' at me like that, my brother works here."

Steele raised his eyebrows and turned to look at the garage behind him. "Oh, he does, does he? Maybe I should go say hi and ask if it'd be alright for me to take you out this Friday."

I raised my arm to punch him in the shoulder, but lowered it just as quickly. Something told me he wouldn't maintain his good humor if I took any swipes at him. "Like you didn't know that already, you've probably been followin' me around the past two days."

He blew out a puff of air that just barely fluttered the bangs around his eyebrows. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks, then said sarcastically, "You caught me, you're just so sweet Elizabeth Curtis I coul—"

"Fuck off." I groaned and stormed toward the main shop. As I got closer to the garage, the sound of his laughter was drowned out by Steve's drilling.

I walked straight to the refrigerator to grab my Pepsi, and barely said anything to the gangly middle-schooler behind the counter. I couldn't remember what Soda had told me his name was, Gabe or something like that. Once I got my drink I turned to look out the windows of the shop, hoping Steele had already gone, but he sat leaned against the side of his mustang. Soda must've already filled him up, because Steele handed him a wad of cash and the two exchanged grins before my brother lumbered off back to the garage. It sounded like he and Steve had a number of repairs to do.

Steele moved to dig around in his pocket for something, and then suddenly turned back to look at me through the window and smirked. Idiot. It was too bright outside for him to be able to see anything through the glass except his own reflection. Come to think of it, maybe that was why he was grinning so big.

I took a gulp of my soda before walking outside, no doubt he would've waited until I came back outside.

If I was smart I would've walked toward the back and looped around back to my house from that side, or I would've wandered into the garage despite how much it would annoy Steve with how busy they were. Instead I boldly strode back the way I came. I wouldn't let Steele think he could scare me away at my brother's place of work.

He chuckled at me. "I thought you'd be back to get my number."

"Yeah, right."

"Maybe I'll see you later, you and Curly have any big plans for Buck's tonight?"

I flipped my hair over my shoulder as I walked past him. "No, but you're gonna be over there to stick the needle in his arm, won't you?" That was the wrong thing to say, I knew that even before he grabbed me by my bicep.

"Actually he prefers it between his toes." Then before I knew it he was helping me into the front seat of his car. I barely had time to move over to the passenger side window before he had moved in beside me and pressed the gas pedal to the floor.

As we pulled out onto the main road I looked back toward the DX, hoping that Soda, or Steve, or even Gabe-what's-his-name had noticed the altercation. But as nobody came running out into the parking lot to get the plates on Steele's car, I figured I was out of luck.

I should've screamed, I should've screamed or something when he shoved me into his car. I should've leapt across the row to open the passenger side door. I should've done a lot of things differently.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"If you're gonna go throwing out little assumptions like that, baby, then it's time you and I have a conversation, there's a pretty good steakhouse a couple of miles away, and," he turned to eye me up and down, "you don't look too shabby right now."

"Look Steele, I'm not—I don—"

"You already put it out there, didn't you? Quit scrambling, bolder suits you better."

I turned to glare at him, my anger calming my anxiety. "I'll jump out of your car, I'll barrel roll, I don't give a fuck."

He didn't fully turn his head to look at me, his chin tilted slightly up. It was hard to tell if he was smiling or smirking, but the way his eyes seemed to burn against the coppery-glow of his skin made me feel woozy. "No you won't or you would've done it by now. If you really wanted out of any of this you would've called the cops that night that Tommy died, you would've stayed far away from the Shepards, and you would've gotten your big brothers to teach me a lesson, isn't that right?" My cheeks burned. "You could stop this anytime, baby, so I don't think you hate me half as much as you'd like. I don't think you hate me at all."

When I didn't say anything he nodded and turned back to the road.

Steele's animosity and sarcasm seemed to simmer as my own did. I didn't speak at all the rest of the way to the restaurant. Not that I really believed he was taking me out to a restaurant. I thought he might drive us back to the ominous storage compartment he owned, or maybe take me to Angela's house. I never would have been able to predict that the place Steele would bring the car to a stop was in front of a Baptist church, about ten minutes north of my neighborhood.

I turned to Steele. "Isn't this a bit much?"

"I've seen your home. I thought I'd share something with you." He said soberly. I followed him as he exited the car, and we walked through the white double doors and into the lobby of the building. I began to get worried that Steele might be an extremely pious Christian, and that he would lead me to the front pews of the sanctuary. It was a Wednesday afternoon, there was no service in session, but I was wary nevertheless.

He stopped at the third pew from the back and held an arm out for me to step in first. He took a seat next to me, and looked toward the altar.

"Why did you bring me here?"

He didn't answer me right away. I couldn't help but think that he actually looked kind of handsome when he wasn't grinning to make me squirm. He didn't grease up his dark hair the way the rest of the boys in my neighborhood did, he made an attempt to keep his neatly styled back, but his bangs were long so they fell past his ears to frame his face.

"Why do you think I have anything to do with Curly's little drug habit?"

"I guessed. He wasn't doin' that shit when I was with him."

He smiled. "I never thought you two were official."

"We weren't, but when we were…seeing each other, I guess. Most he ever did was smoke a joint."

"Which still doesn't answer my question."

"Figured you'd want him dependent on you, I don't know."

"You think that little of me?"

"Well I met you because you came to dispose of a corpse," He laughed, "so, maybe."

"We have more in common than you think."

I sighed. "My dad was half-Cherokee, I didn't grow up on the res or nothing."

"Neither did I, not really." I shot him a look of confusion. "My father died when I was little, drinking is what my mother told me. And uh, she went missing before I was eight, everybody said it must've been some white guys from Oklahoma City or here, or some other bumfuck-Oklahoma-town, or Texas. I don't know." He ran his palms up and down his pants. "I spent a couple of years looking, but, cops and hospitals don't care enough to keep records about our kind."

I looked down at my lap. "I'm…I'm sorry about that."

He nodded. "Well, I didn't have anybody else I could live with, so I went to live in a boys home in Oklahoma City for a while, crazy fuckers. Bounced around after that, an old Baptist couple took care of me in Tulsa for a couple years, they were the only people who didn't look forward to giving me the strap."

"Curly told you that my parents died, then...that I was sent away."

"He did. But I've always thought I could recognize someone like me."

"Well, I'm luckier than you were. I live with a cousin and I never get the strap."

His voice sounded lower, and he looked at me out of the corner of his eye again. This time his expression seemed somber. "You get something else then?"

I flinched, and clasped my hands together in my lap. I turned my gaze away from him to look at the stained glass windows to my left. Scenes of the nativity, of the Virgin Mary and her son, and angels and holiness. I would tell myself after that the reason I didn't lie was because it felt so wrong to do in a church, but that's not quite right. He had a charisma that compelled me to honesty.

"One of my foster sisters…well you remind me of her. It happens all over, doesn't it?"

I shook my head and felt tears start to well in my eyes. The last time I was in a place of worship was for my parents' funeral, my mind felt clouded.

"You put two and two together, good for you."

"How long di—"

"No." When I looked back toward him, he closed his mouth, his eyes softened a bit. "No, we're not doin' that."

"Are you going back?'

I wiped away a few stray tears that had leaked down along my cheeks. "Of course I am. The state says my brothers can't take care of me. I'll be 16 soon, and then two more years and I'm free."

He looked at me with a knowing expression. "You know I wasn't joking around when I said I wanted to take you out."

"Could've fooled me."

He chuckled and stood up, extending a hand to me. I took it that time. "Ain't you gonna pray before we leave?"

He seemed to consider this and turned to look back at the altar again, at the cross. He ran a hand through his hair and a mocking smile spread across his face. "I never was a Christian."

He turned and strode past the pews and into the lobby. "Aren't you going to tell the cops I covered up your friend's death, and got your boyfriend hooked on smack?" Something about his voice sounded cold. I stopped before we reached the doors.

Steele must've heard the halt in my footsteps and turned to look at me. Some warmth returned to his smile and he laughed. "C'mon I'm just messing with you, let's get you home." He didn't wait for my response, or wait for my expression to change before he opened the doors, and the bright light of the afternoon enveloped him.