Why We Ended Up Here
Disclaimer: No, silly, I never have nor will I ever own The Outsiders. S.E. Hinton owns The Outsiders. *sighs* :( I simply borrow them for my own creative enjoyment purposes.
Candymouse22: Thank you so much for taking the time to review! And I most definitely will! I just wanted to set up a solid basis before I switched to Darry. The next chapter after this one or so should have Darry in it.
FrankElza: Thank you so much for your review. Here is the next chapter. :)
Amanda (Guest): Poor Ponyboy indeed! It is totally okay that your review is short, I appreciate that you took the time to review!
HappierThanMost: I'm glad that you enjoyed! Thank you so much for your support, as always! :)
FebruaryMarch: Thank you so much for your review! I'm glad that you have been enjoying the story so far.
Moontrail: I'm glad you enjoyed the nightmare scene! I'm always insecure about those. And I'm glad my Ponyboy is good so far. Thank you so much for your review. It means a lot!
Chapter 5: Candles and Bills
~ Monday, January 10, 1966 ~
After the ease of Sunday died down, Monday rolled around, responsibility and school in full force. Sodapop and Ponyboy were woken up at six o'clock sharp, ushered down to the breakfast hall, and then tossed reluctantly into separate classrooms.
Ponyboy soon found himself surrounded by around seven other ninth graders. He desperately wished to be back with Sodapop, but he knew it wasn't an option. He needed to grow up and figure out what he was going to do, because Sodapop was going to be around all the time to watch out for him like he was used to. His safety and comfort was gone, leaving a hollow ache in his chest.
Ponyboy sighed softly, sitting down at his assigned seat as attendance was taken. The room was overpoweringly filled with the stench of the candle his teacher, Mrs. Roberts, had lit. He rubbed his nose, mentally cursing the entire boy's home. He hated everything about it, down to the candle, as small as that particular detail seemed to an outsider, it struck his last nerve.
Ponyboy was given a math book that was falling apart at the seams before his teacher instructed the class to open up to page 163. He opened up the book just to find that they were learning radicals, something Ponyboy had aced back in seventh grade at his old school back in Tulsa. He laid his head down on the desk, fighting to keep his heavy eyelids open.
"Ponyboy Curtis, if you think you are above this lesson you can just sit out in the hallway," Mrs. Roberts drawled in a firm, yet shrill voice. "Do you want that?"
"No, ma'am," Ponyboy mumbled. "I'm sorry."
"Get your head off your desk and pay attention," Mrs. Roberts reprimanded, returning her attention to the examples on the board.
With a reluctant sigh, Ponyboy ripped of a sheet of lined paper from his state-provided dark red notebook, copying the examples down mechanically.
World History passed with little improvement. The class was covering Germany and the Franks, a topic Ponyboy hadn't learned yet, but the difficulty level of the class remained the same as math. He missed his honors classes, where the homework was sometimes bothersome, but at least he had something to do. He needed something to occupy his mind with. It seemed here that the challenge he loved about school was gone, replaced with an easy but repetitive boredom.
English came and went after a lunch break, as did Biology. After what felt like forever, the class was allowed to escape to an class hour of free time outside. It was outside in the courtyard where he was able to see Sodapop for the first time that day.
"Hey, Ponyboy. How was school?" Sodapop greeted as the two met each other, pasting a smile on his face.
"Boring, but exhausting," Ponyboy responded honestly.
"Yeah, school's always boring though," Sodapop pointed out. "To me, at least."
"Yeah, but they're teaching me the same math I already know," Ponyboy complained.
"Shoot, reckon you'll pass with flying colors then, huh?"
"Guess so. Do you got a smoke?"
"Yeah, but I ain't got a lighter," Sodapop offered up his pack, pulling a cigarette out for himself. He heard footsteps behind him, so he turned around, laying eyes on a familiar character.
"Hello, Daniel," Sodapop greeted in a disinterested voice.
"Can I bum a smoke?" Daniel requested, just as Ponyboy pulled his lighter out of his shoe. Unable to say no, Ponyboy reluctantly held out the pack.
"Thanks, man."
Just as Ponyboy finished his cigarette, one of the workers signaled with a sharp whistle that their outdoor time was over.
Looking back into the Boy's home, Ponyboy felt a heavy weight sink into the pit of his stomach at the thought of being back inside. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take being in here, and it had only been a few days.
Darry better figure out something fast, Ponyboy thought, swallowing thickly. Or I don't know what I'll do.
~ Tuesday, January 11, 1966 ~
Darry held his head in his hands as a pile of bills sat on the kitchen table. Each time he attempted to pay the electricity bill, his mind wandered to his brothers. What were they doing? Were they okay? And so on and so forth. The thoughts swirled in his mind, a pit of worry stubbornly refusing to leave his stomach long enough to choke down even a few measly bites of cold tomato soup.
It had been four agonizing days since Darry had last seen his brothers, but it seemed like months. Since they were taken he had hired the family's lawyer to try to get custody. He was working full time at his new roofing job, and he was even looking into getting a second job. He hoped he could show how committed he was to his brother's well-being, but even his lawyer, Adam Cunningham, informed Darry it was going to be a long and painstaking process.
Since the accident the gang seldom made an appearance, except for the occasional run-in from Two-Bit, who briefly informed the older man that most of the gang was spending their time down at Buck's getting drunk, and Darry was welcome to join them if he wanted to take a load off.
"You know I can't, Two-Bit. Even if I wanted to. If anyone caught me, I would never get custody," Darry sighed.
Two-Bit agreed begrudgingly, escaping the awkward atmosphere a few minutes later and had yet to show up again. The loneliness ate at Darry, silence louder than words, two empty bedrooms screaming at him that nothing was okay.
If only he knew how long of a process getting his brothers back was going to be, and if only he knew what kind of rehabilitating results would come from their stay in state custody.
A/N: Oh my goodness! I am most certainly not dead and I am so sorry this took me absolutely forever. I offer no excuses besides my teachers love to cram things in at the end of the semester. Sigh. Anyway, please review. I appreciate your guys review so much, they kept me going writing this as I drowned (and continue to drown until May 30) in homework. Love you guys!
Stay Gold,
~ Alee XxX
