Identity Crisis
Eight
I spent the rest of the morning at the Curtis house with Ponyboy. Turns out once you hit the right topic he could really get started with the conversation, but I was having more and more trouble hitting those topics.
"Hey, Lauren? How old are you?"
"Huh? Oh, I'm sixteen...why?"
"I dunno, I was just wonderin'... I couldn't really guess..." He said with a shrug.
"How old are you?"
"I'll be turning fourteen soon?" He sounded like he was testing that answer. Maybe he was waiting for me to go into a shrieking fit of laughter, fall over, laugh some more and come back up with a smile on my face and say, "No, seriously".
"Are you kidding? I could've sworn you were older than that..." I muttered. I had thought he was my age. He seemed happy that was all I said though.
"Yeah? I thought you were older too."
"When's your birthday?"
"Well... July 22nd, but... I won't be fourteen until... next year."
I giggled then.
"So, wait, you're twelve? Oh wow. You sure don't act like it."
It got quiet after that.
I groaned and lay back on the porch that we had been sitting on for the past few hours. It was nice out, but it was cool outside. Ponyboy said it could mean rain was coming and then it would get hot again. Turns out he already knew what was going on with me, which he let me know when I was trying to jump around questions that may be difficult to answer.
"Sodapop already told me ya know. He tells me a lot of things. He was surprised he lasted as long as he did."
He didn't ask me much about the time period I came from. Just basic things. Was there anything really different? Well, we have phones that are cordless and can work pretty much anywhere, if you can get a signal. Oh, and we have computers, which are basically super fancy machines that you can use to write by pressing the right keys, and if you're rich enough, you could talk to people around the world with the Internet.
He didn't ask too much about those. It would have confused both of us. What about books? There are a lot of books. A lot, a lot. There's even books where you can pick what happens by picking the next chapter to read. If you mess up, you start from page one again. It took awhile to explain that book, and I wished I hadn't brought it up.
"Music changed too...and so did dancing. I wish it hadn't... my family, the older ones anyway, are always telling me about stuff from this time period and I'm always listening to the music... but no one ever teaches me how they danced."
"How do you dance?"
"Uh, we basically jump in time to the music and uhm..." I paused at this point, trying to find the right words. "Some people uh...get rather close and...well, it doesn't look like dancing. We'll leave it at that."
"Is it really that bad?"
"So bad, I can't show you," I said with a laugh. "Trust me, you really don't want to see it. But there are other dances I know that I can show you. You'd never be able to do them...until the 90's maybe, but, ya know, what ever. It'll be something to do."
So for the afternoon we hung around in the backyard while I taught Ponyboy different dances I happened to know. I'd have to sing or hum the songs so he could get the beat down, but, he got the Electric Slide pretty fast and for kicks, I taught him the Macarena...but I told him to never do that dance. Ever. But, it was really funny to watch. He was so awkward doing it. I had mastered the dance and knew every wiggle and shake.
He didn't ask why he could never do it. He thought it was just as ridiculous as I did and I could tell. I recollected what I had learned in my week of salsa classes I had taken last summer with my friends and a few other hispanic dances that I had learned through the people taking the classes. Those took a little longer, but he agreed to teach me some dances he knew.
It was when we had switched places so I was no longer leading that he seemed to lose confidence. So I did a quick review and he gave it another go. It ended up being a joint effort, if he forgot, I would lead him into the next step. I wondered how odd we looked. Ponyboy was tall sure, but I was a few inches taller than he was, so I had to look down my nose if we were standing close together. Which seemed to be happening more often now that we were wasting time dancing in his backyard.
Soon though, we were just goin' at it, falling over each other we were dancing so bad.
"Hey Pony," A quiet voice said. Ponyboy jumped and pushed me backward as I spun. I managed to catch myself and straighten up my hair a bit, before I met Johnny's questioning gaze.
"Free dance lessons. Want some?" I asked. I sounded a bit winded. He shook his head. The look on his face was on the verge of, "What drugs are you on?"
"Looks fun, but no thanks. I was just wonderin' if I could stay at your house tonight Pony."
"You know you don't have to ask, Johnnycake..." Ponyboy said, hitting him gently on the arm. I think we both noticed the wince, despite how fast Johnny tried to cover it up. Ponyboy just looked at him sadly, but I was on him in a heartbeat, asking him all sorts of questions. When Ponyboy finally got me to let up, Johnny was studying me.
"...You got hit too, huh? Girls shouldn't be beat like that," he muttered. We were all quiet then and I knew Johnny and I were even.
He could touch on tender subjects just as easily as I could. We had a mutual agreement then. Don't ask unless you have the right too.
xxxx
Pony decided to spread the news of the Freaky Future Femme Fatal to Johhny, who looked a bit disbelieving. I didn't blame him. Maybe he thought the world was on a permanent acid trip and he was the only one who could help his poor friends, so he just didn't want to believe Pony. That way, he could talk some sense into him later.
"...The Vietnam war is goin' on right now, right?"
"Yeah," Ponyboy said. He was looking at me, waiting for more, but I kept my mouth shut. Until Johnny leaned forward so he could see around Pony and stared at me too.
"No, you wouldn't believe what I told you anyway. It'll be over in a few years anyway," I said with a shrug, remembering what year it was. "Sorry..."
I didn't know what I was apologizing for, and I stretched forward. I liked stretching. It made me feel better. I was feeling worse and worse; this was the longest period of time I had been myself and I was worried that the next change back would break me. I really couldn't take this anymore.
So I sat there on the porch, feeling isolated despite the silent company, and stretched, thinking of Dally.
I need to be like him, I thought. I need to stop caring about it so much. I need to get a hold of my self and be like him and Angela. I have to let it bounce off of me and have enough will power to get back to where I belong.
You can do this Lauren. You know you can. C'mon... get hard. Like at soccer games. Don't look apologetic when you slide into someone and make them fall. If you make it in, look proud and untouchable and don't give that girl a second thought. The only time you care is if they're on the ground screaming.
And no one's screaming...
xxxx
I started studying the rest of the gang a bit more closely and when I'd see them, I'd study the Soc's too. They were kind of like the football players I knew; they'd never make anything serious. Ever. A divorce? Big deal. It ain't botherin' me. But you'd always find out later it was eating them from the inside.
I had to weigh things then. I was always told it was unhealthy to keep things like emotions inside... that it would literally start eating at you. My mother said that if you let it build, and something sparks it, it'll blow, and you'll go with it. Like standing on the top of a building you know is going to be blown to pieces to make room for a new one.
But I'd break anyway, wouldn't I? I couldn't take this much more, having to be two different people. I was willing to change one of those people... but who would I be then? I wouldn't be Lauren. I'd be some one else, with the same name. Like, an evil twin or something. So... hold it off and risk a bigger break or take the one I know is coming?
If I broke I may just end up like the people I've been watching anyway.
I wasn't sure how long I was thinking about this... maybe a few days... and still stretching for that matter (of course not straight days. I slept at some point, obviously), before Dally came wandering up to the Curtis house one day while I was doing a straddle. I glanced up at him, and did a double take. He looked pretty beat up.
"What happened to you?" I asked, before he could slip past me and get inside.
"What's it look like?"
"...Uhm... you fell?"
He stared at me for a moment and I guess I looked pretty odd, leaning forward in a straddle with my arms out in front of me, my fingers tapping the porch floor. I was thrilled, actually. During those days of thinking I mentioned, I was still Lauren. So the break wasn't as close, maybe. I was wondering if Angela had only managed a half way this time. He smirked and shook his head, before walking inside.
"Nice talkin' to you too," I called, knowing he'd hear me through the screen door. I'd been spending my nights at the Curtis's actually. I couldn't go back with Tim, since I wasn't Angela, but he told me that her mother hadn't even noticed this time. I said maybe she heard about me getting hit and figured I'd be avoiding home for awhile. He didn't say anything to that, but he shrugged, saying he had to go do... well, what ever it is he does. I wasn't really listening.
I stopped stretching for a moment and pulled my legs back toward me.
Dally or Lauren...?
Negative or Positive?
I still couldn't decide who I should be. I think I was realizing more often that there wasn't always an inbetween. You are or you aren't. I couldn't find the gray in this town...
I wondered if anyone knew where it was... and then I wondered if I should put up a 'Missing' poster. Of course, I wondered why I was so stupid after that.
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