Jake was waiting for me outside of school and we headed home, keeping half an eye out for the rich bastards who wanted to mess with us.
It was understood without even speaking about it that Jake would come to my apartment. He really tried to avoid his parents as much as possible.
"Here," I said, tossing him an apple. He had sat at the kitchen table, and caught the apple with his right hand. Bit into it. Diane always bought fruit and stuff for snacks, never junk food. But it was better than Jake's house, they never had food there. They got food stamps, of course, like we did. But somehow his parents never managed to have enough food in the house.
He ate his apple and I ate mine, looked out the living room window at all the kids outside. Living at the Village was like living in the middle of a giant, wild recess. Kids ran, yelled, swung on the swings, balanced on top of the jungle gym, ran into the buildings, ran out. Chaos. Pandemonium. Jake watched it all with his solemn eyes.
We were alone at my apartment. Shawn was still working, or maybe off somewhere with Seth. And Diane worked every night. She was a waitress.
"Have you seen Derek lately?" Jake said, tossing his apple core into the trash. I shook my head.
Derek Washington was a 16 year old punk who was good friends with Diane and Shawn, and Jake practically worshipped him. I didn't know, though. He was trouble. He did drugs, he was in and out of lock up. His parents had given up on him. He was unpredictable, prone to fighting. Truthfully, I didn't like him. Of course I'd never say that, like when he shows up in the wee hours of the night, high as a kite, looking for a place to crash.
Seth and Shawn barged in, laughing, rummaging through the frig.
"Working tonight?" I said to Shawn, ignoring Seth. I knew he probably wasn't since he skipped school to work all day. I just asked to find out what he was doing.
He grinned at me, his wide, expansive grin. He had straight white teeth like a movie star. He was actually very handsome, and he knew it.
"Nope, no way. Got a big date tonight,"
Shawn kind of amazed me. He was carefree, despite how things kind of sucked. Diane was a bit of a wreck, trying to keep the family together despite the fact that our mother flipped out when dad left. And I was kind of serious and very aware of what may happen. Mom was incapable of taking care of us, and while they couldn't really touch Diane because she was 19, they could ship me and Shawn off to some foster hell and that would be that.
It had happened to Jake a few years ago. He got a beating that landed him in the hospital and then DSS yanked him out of his house and put him in a foster home. I think he was 12 or so and it was a foster home on the edge of the city. Diane brought me out there to see him and he looked awful. I felt a weird thing, like he was lost and beyond help in a way. When we left I thought I'd just never see him again. But after a year or so his parents pulled their act together enough to get him back. He never talked about that foster home, never talked about what happened to him there.
"How late is that office open?" Jake said, referring to Diane's job as a filer at a doctor's office.
"She isn't there. She's waitressing,"
"Oh,"
We went out and played a little basketball with some younger kids. The court was okay except I think they put it in during the 60's. It was all cracked and the net was long gone.
Jake got an impossible three point shot. It was just a fluke, he wasn't great at sports. Neither was I. He gets the three point shot, the younger kids stare at him in amazement, and he smiles. It was that sweet smile, that sweetness about him that makes us all want to protect him, even Derek. Maybe especially Derek.
Once it got dark we headed in. The drunks and the drug addicts come out at night like vampires, and they'll jump you for money.
Back at my place we flipped through the channels as the room grew darker around us. We were left with the flickery blue glow of the T.V.
We both fell asleep, and the door opening woke us up. I blinked at the clock. One a.m.
"Hi, Paul," Diane said softly. She was dressed in her funky waitress outfit, a white button shirt with a 70's collar, black tie, black skirt and tights, chunky shoes. She worked at the Organic Manic downtown.
"Hi,"
She kicked her shoes off, closed her eyes, put both hands on the small of her back and stretched. Then she came in the living room, ruffled my hair and then Jake's.
"Hi, Jakey. You staying over?"
He was blinking sleepily, yawned, and stood up.
"Naw. I gotta get home,"
"Okay, honey. See you tomorrow,"
Jake left and Diane crashed in the living room, the remote in her hand. So I went to my room. It was actually Shawn's room, too. I didn't mind sharing a room with him. It was kind of comforting.
Even though the next day was Saturday I thought I'd start reading the book for English, "The Outsiders".
x……………x……………….x…………………..x
"Rise and shine, buddy," A pillow was thrown at my head and the sun streamed into the room full force. Another pillow, smack.
"Cut the crap, Shawn, will ya?" I rolled over and tried to get back sleep.
"C'mon, Diane cooked breakfast. Pancakes!" He jumped on me.
He was fully dressed, looked like he'd been up for hours. That kid had more energy than anyone I ever knew.
I stumbled out to the kitchen. Sure enough, there were pancakes. Diane sipped on coffee. I noticed someone asleep on our couch, covered in the afghan.
"Jake?" I said to Diane. Sometimes Jake came over if his parents were giving him a hard time. He came over at three in the morning one time. She shook her head.
"Derek," she said. I raised my eyebrows.
"Hey Derek! Get up!" Shawn yelled, soft tackling him. Shawn is the only one who dared do that. If I did that Derek would flatten me.
"Hey, man, back off," Derek shoved him off and curled up under the afghan. Shawn shrugged. Nothing fazed him.
I shook my head, amazed at Shawn's audacity. He was one of those people who never ceased doing head shaking things.
I finished up breakfast, got dressed, and headed over to Jake's. I had the book with me. I'd read the whole damn thing last night.
"Where are your parents?" I whispered.
"Sleeping. Don't worry," he said, and I followed him into his room.
Jake's room was sparsely furnished. Just his bed and a dresser. Some movie posters. He loved movies. Escaped in them the same way I escaped in books.
"Why haven't I read this book before?" I demanded, holding it up. He frowned, took it from me.
"Because it was published almost 40 years ago?" he said.
"That doesn't matter, it doesn't matter,"
"I saw this movie," Jake said.
"There's a movie?"
"Yeah,"
"I never saw it,"
"Well, it came out in the 80's," Jake shrugged.
"Jake, this book, it's about me,"
Jake looked at me blankly for a second.
"Huh?"
"It's about me. It's my life,"
He looked at me cautiously, the way you might look at the guy muttering to himself and shaking his fist at the sky.
"Paul? It's about Ponyboy Curtis, a greaser in the 60's, from Oklahoma,"
"Yeah, Ponyboy Curtis, Paul Cameron,"
Jake licked his lips.
"You have the same initials, so what?"
"We all do! We all match up! It's me, or I'm him. Jake, this is weird,"
A/N: Thank you for your reviews! I love you guys!
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