Stumble

Chapter Six

Disclaimer - I do not own The Outsiders. Or Standing In The Rain by Billy Talent.

-- And if you want me, well, I guess I want you --

I needed out of this house. It had been a little more than a week since my fathers beating and I needed out. I hadn't been out since that fateful night. I had been holed up in my room, trying to recover.

I made my way down the hall, being as quiet as possible so I could avoid another confrontation with my father. I crept to the door and opened it, amazed at who I saw on the other side. Vanessa. What was she doing here?

"Nessa?" I asked, trying to make sure that this wasn't just some dream I was having.

"Hey, Morgan," she said, trying to smile at me, but I could tell it was forced.

"What are you doing here?" I questioned, still astonished at the fact that she was standing on the front porch.

"Mom died," she answered, her eyes glazing over with tears. "I wanted to get here sooner, in time for her funeral, but…I just couldn't, y'know?"

I nodded my head. Vanessa was my fourteen-year-old sister. I hardly ever saw her, though, because she went to this fancy boarding school for art students in Atlanta. She only ever came home for the summer and Christmas.

But now, here she stood, hair pushed behind her ears, her blouse wrinkled, and her suitcase in hand. I couldn't believe it.

Then a thought struck me. What was I going to do with her? My father was an abusive man, I couldn't leave her alone with him, could I? My father had always liked Nessa better. Probably the reason he paid the expensive tuition for her school while I had to go to Will Rogers High.

I wanted to stay with her, but I couldn't stay in that house a moment longer. "Look, I gotta go, but why don't you go unpack and stuff," I told her. "I'm sure you had a long trip and all."

She nodded and silently made her way into the house, down the hall and into the bedroom that belonged to her. I watched until her door was shut and then I left.

I knew exactly where I was going, even though I could hardly believe it myself. I didn't think I would ever go back there, at least, not by choice. But I needed an escape, and I knew that I could find one there.

I made my way down the street and already I could hear the sound of Hank Williams. I cringed a bit and started to second guess if I should be going there. But I was so close now, I couldn't turn back. I didn't want to turn back.

I entered Buck Merrill's house and immediately went to the kitchen. Buck was in there this time, hunched over and loading the fridge with bottles. I looked down at one of the coolers on the floor. I leaned down and grabbed a bottle, I had a little cash in my pocket this time.

"How much?" I asked. He jumped a bit when I spoke, then turned to look at me. He smirked.

"Didn't expect to see you 'round here again," he commented.

"How much?" I repeated.

"For a pretty little thing like you," he said, considering it. "Ten cents."

I pulled a dime out of my pocket and placed it on the counter next to me. Then I turned and left.

I walked around the house for a while, taking it all in. Suddenly I was stopped by a boy. He smiled down at me. "Hello," he greeted. He seemed a bit drunk.

"Hi," I replied, deciding to play it nice.

"I ain't never seen you before," he slurred. "You new 'round here?"

"No," I answered. "I just don't get out much."

He laughed, thinking it had been a joke. I let him laugh, not caring either way.

"So, uh, you wanna go upstairs?" my my, boys around here don't beat around the bush do they?

I was going to flat out refuse, take my bottle and go, but then a thought occurred to me. I couldn't keep living with my father. I needed out. He had beat my mother to death and it was just a matter of time before he did the same to me.

So, I sucked up all the courage I had and said, "What's it worth to ya?"