Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns the Outsiders. Journey owns the song. I own Sam (and the plot line, of course).
Ch. 17 – Open Arms
So now I come to you
With open arms
Nothing to hide
Believe what I say
So here I am
With open arms
Hoping you'll see
What your love means to me
Open arms
Sam's POV
The next week or so dragged on for me, since I was still stuck at home for the most part, doctor's orders. Soda stayed with me for a few days but had to go back to work then. Darry, Owen, Steve, and Soda checked in on me on their lunch breaks and Two-bit often came and watched Mickey with me during the day, but I was very lonely. After school, Pony came and hung out with me like I had with him which was great because I felt like we were getting much closer, and hell, I liked the kid. But still, I couldn't wait to get back to work and get out of the house.
But with all the quiet, I had a lot of time to think. In the wee hours of the morning that first night after I woke up, I had done some speculation. I thought I might be scared after the ordeal, afraid to be alone or skittish about people, but I found myself to be none of those things. I was a bit angry, frustrated that I couldn't help myself better and pissed that those damn Socs thought it was okay to pick on me anyway. And for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why. Socs are jerks - don't get me wrong – but they don't' usually go around jumping girls on our side of the town. Maybe if a girl had wandered into their territory all alone – well, she'd practically be asking for it. But it's unusual to have some random greaser girl jumped over here. I guess it's useless to wonder about, really, but I had a LOT of time on my hands and nothing to do with it.
After a week, I was allowed to go back to work according to the doctor, but the guys were hesitant to let me go. Toby said it was "too dangerous" to which I mouthed off, telling him that Soda wasn't going to let me out of his sight if I wasn't in his house or mine and that I'd be fine. Owen seemed a little more willing to relent, so after my argument with Toby, I went to him.
"Owen?"
"What?"
"Can't you convince Toby that it's okay to let me go to work? Please." I was not above begging if it got me out this house, not anymore. "I am going stir crazy, O. Just talk to him. You know I'll be safe."
Owen looked a little bit pained for a minute, like he understood but still couldn't fathom being the one who convinced Toby to let me go if something happened.
After a minute, his expression softened. "I'll see what I can do." With that, he turned around and walked away from me like he was scared to hear me talk anymore.
I did a little dance of happiness then, excited at even the prospect of normalcy.
The next day, Toby called me to breakfast and I made my way downstairs, a very much smaller feat than it was a week ago. I was walking mostly normal; I could sit and stand and even jump if I wanted to. Soda was kissing me again (thank the heavens!), though it was hesitantly. I had hardly any pain, though it did occasionally surface around my ribs if I overdid it, so I mostly took it easy.
When I sat down with some cereal, I already had a plan. I was determined to get out of this house, no matter how I did it, no matter what it took.
"Sam," Toby started slowly, watching me for any reaction at all. "I know you think you're ready to go out again right now, but I think you need a few more days. What happened to you was absolutely unfair and I want you to be completely ready if something happens again. Owen and I are going to show you some things we think you need to know in the way of fighting, and I NEVER," he paused and gave me a look that said he was not kidding at all, "EVER want you to be alone. Never."
I paused, hesitant to say anything and mess up the "few days more" promise he'd made, but decided in a stir-crazy insanity to push my luck.
"Toby, I know you think I need more time, and maybe I do. Maybe I need to strengthen up a little bit before I go out to face the big bad wolf again. But I have got to get out of this house. I am going insane." I paused, ready to make my plan happen, praying that it would. "Maybe I need to go somewhere else, just to get out of here." I paused again and to let the idea soak in. "I was thinking that maybe it would be nice to see Jake."
Silence. My suggestion was met with complete silence.
Toby spoke eventually, what felt like an hour later. "You will take someone with you. Period. I don't particularly like the idea of it being Soda, but I'm pretty sure you'll insist that it is, so I'll try and get used to the idea. I like him anyway and he's about as mad as I am, if not more. I'll call Jake tonight."
With that, he stood, turned away from table, and continued getting ready for work, leaving Owen and I stunned. I don't think either of us expected it to be that easy.
I let a small smile slip from my lips when I stood up from the table, but waited until both of my brothers were gone to really celebrate. I jumped for joy and pumped my fist in the air, then promptly sat down, winded and in a bit of pain. But still, ecstatic.
Soda came over that night after work and it took everything in me to not tell him my good news. Toby still had to talk to Jake and work things out, but I was pretty sure Jake wanted to see me as much as I wanted to see him. I was always really close with Jake, and the decision to move us was hardest on me because I missed him something fierce. I really was excited to see him, and if it worked out like I wanted and Soda could go – well, that might be the best thing ever in my book.
Soda got to my house around 5:30, about a half hour before Owen was to get home and long before Toby ever made it back into town. I was in the kitchen swaying to Elvis' crooning, much like the night Soda met my brothers. I was washing and peeling potatoes at the sink when I felt hands on my hips and smiled at the familiarity of it all. I hadn't heard the door open, and was surprised at the fact that I hadn't freaked out. In my time at home, I decided I wasn't going to be jumpy and nervous – we all take our licks, and we all move on. I was not about to let some bastards who think they're all tough change me. No, siree.
Leaning back into him with my wet, potato-y hands still in the sink, I continued to sway, swept up in the faint smell of grease, cologne, and soap that made was Soda. After drying my hands on a dish towel, I turned into him and pressed as close to him as possible. We spun slowly and swayed gently in the middle of my kitchen, not for the first and hopefully not the last, as Elvis sang to us a song about his true love. As the last chord rung out, Soda bent his face to mine and planted a sweet, gentle kiss on me that bordered on chaste. I brought a finger to my tingling lips and basked in the afterglow of the moment we just shared. To my surprise, Soda stepped forward a minute later and picked up the potato and the knife, starting to peel the potato I had been working on and making my heart swell with love and gratitude. I truly was the luckiest girl that ever lived.
After dinner, cleaning up, and a few joking minutes with my brothers, they both went upstairs and left Soda and I to our devices, namely the couch. I had wanted to talk to him for a while, but decided that it would wait until tomorrow when I could let him in on my Oklahoma City secret trip. He sat down on the right side, where he always sat and I, essentially speaking, jumped him. I didn't actually jump on him, but I did go as fast as I comfortably could and attached myself to his lips as if I was getting my breath from his. My hands were in his hair and I was holding onto him like he was the last stable surface on the face of the earth. I wanted him like you wouldn't believe and made no effort to hide the fact. Still sensing that he was holding back, I backed away and off of him, retreating to the other side of the couch with my feet planted in his lap. I was pouting and I knew it, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why he'd been acting so funny. He knew I was feeling better, after all.
"Did I do something wrong?" I asked tentatively, almost afraid of his answer.
"No, not at all," he answered quickly, catching his breath, but otherwise acting as if nothing was wrong.
"Well, if that's the case, Soda, and you know that I'm feeling better, why won't you kiss me like you used to? What is going on?" I really was confused and asking a genuine question, but it came out whineier than I'd have liked it to.
"Sam…" Soda whined, himself, "I did kiss you. I very definitely just kissed you."
"But you're not passionate like you used to be. You're treating me like I'm going to break. I decided that I'm not going to let this little incident change me, Soda, and I can't take it if you let it change you and change us. I want you to kiss me like you mean it, like you're not afraid that I'm going to break or cry or something." I was demanding now, and while I didn't mean to be, I felt like it needed to be done. "I know I'm being pushy, but I can't do this alone. I need you to be sure like I am. Please, Soda." My eyes were pleading with his, and I could feel his unwitting resolve dissipating. "Kiss me."
Soda paused for only a second and then bounded over to me, catching me with his lips and doing exactly what I asked. His hands roamed through my hair and held my neck still. His lips ravaged mine; his tongue battled with mine in an act of pent up passion I knew he had been hiding. I, in turn, mirrored his actions and for what seemed an eternity, we were caught up in our separate passions until he finally pulled away.
He looked at me with pleading eyes and asked the question I didn't particularly want to hear, but knew he had to say: "Are you okay?"
I nodded my head and smiled, but decided that after receiving what I'd asked for, my body needed a break. After a few minutes of cuddling, I walked him to the door and gave him a sweet kiss.
"I love you, Soda."
"I love you too, Sam."
He set off down the street and my heart danced up the stairs, dragging the rest of me along with it.
I wasn't called to breakfast the next morning, which alarmed me as I shot out of bed and assumed the worst regarding my visit to Jake. I padded down the stairs, still in my nightgown, and looked at the table, hoping for some sign of my brothers or their decision.
I found a note on the table in Toby's handwriting – short, sweet, and to the point, just like him.
Sam-
I talked to Jake last night and he said it would be fine if you come visit him. He said he'd like to meet Sodapop too. Call him and set it up for this weekend.
Love you,
Toby
I shrieked and checked the clock to make sure Soda would be at work by now before dialing the number hastily.
"DX station, Steve speaking."
"STEVE! Hi Steve, it's Sam. Is Soda in?"
"Yeah, are you okay? You're talking really fast." Steve seemed genuinely worried which I reflected on as he went to get Soda after I assured him I was fine.
"Hello?"
"Hi, babe. I have a question for you."
"Hey, Sam. What's up? Are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine," I replied. Geez, enough with the okay questions. "You're off on Sunday, right?"
"Yup. Wanna do something?" I could hear him smiling, and it made me smile even more.
"Well, yeah. Do you think you could take off Monday too?" I asked, praying the answer would be yes. "I'd like to go somewhere and I want you to come with…"
(Note: important information in the Author's note below. Do not skip!)
A/N: I AM SO SORRY! I'm sort of a jerk, I know. But I started school, and I"m working a full time job. And my mom broke her wrist so I'm doing her job at my dad's business too. Ah. It's been crazy. But I'm SORRY!!!!3
But, here it is. I feel like I should give you a warning that the rating will probably change to "M" next chapter. Oklahoma City is going to be an interesting trip...
I only got a few comments on my last chapter, which did not aid in the whole writing process, so leave lots to keep me encouraged!!!
I'm not going to make a promise this time for when I'll have the next chapter, but don't worry - I haven't forgotten about you.
Keep reading!