"Roger," I call out to the man that just came out of the record store and when he looks up, I know I got the clown I'm looking for. Flicking away my cigarette, I amble towards him slowly, sizing him up. He's closer to thirty than twenty, that's obvious right off the bat.

"What do you want?" he asks, looking back and forth between me and Ricky uneasily, his hands holding his keys, trembling slightly.

"You work a birthday party at the bowling alley a few nights ago?" I step in front of him and he straightens up.

"What the fuck is it to you?" he snarls out and I shove him so his back is pressed against the wall of the building.

"Here I thought that clowns were supposed to be friendly," I say in an over cheery voice. "But that wasn't very friendly."

"Not friendly at all." Ricky shakes his head in fake disappointment. "Kind of rude, actually."

"Very rude," I agree, keeping him pinned against the wall.

"Just take my wallet and leave me alone." He spits out but the fear in his eyes betray him and I know he's scared and I like that. I like that a lot.

"You heard the man." I grin at Ricky. "Take his wallet."

I let him go and he fumbles for his wallet and shoves it at Ricky, who opens it and takes the money out. "Three dollars? Really? Must not be making much in the clown business, huh?"

"Fuck you," he mutters and starts to walk away but I grab him by the back of his shirt and yank him back, causing him to stumble and almost lose his balance.

"Maybe if you didn't grab teenage girls' asses you would make more money, think of that?" I give him a shove towards Ricky, who catches him and drives his fist into the clown's stomach, causing him to double over.

"What the fuck," he coughs out. "I don't even know what you're talking about!"

Ricky sends him sprawling back towards me and I raise my fist, slamming it into his face with a satisfying crunch, sending him to the ground. "I think you do know what I'm talking about."

He wipes the blood dripping from his nose. "Oh her." He smiles, showing bloody teeth. "Maybe if she didn't dress like a whore, I wouldn't have treated her like one."

Blind rage fills me and I reach down, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and hit him again and again. I ignore the pain that slices into my hand, when my knuckles break open.

I can hear Ricky shouting my name but it feels like it's coming from far away. When someone grabs my shoulder, I turn ready to swing at whoever it is.

"Woah, calm down, man." Ricky has both his hands up. "He's had enough, alright? Let's get out of here before someone calls the fuzz."

Breathing heavily, I give myself a shake. "Yeah, sure." I glance down at the clown. "Remember this the next time you grab a girl's ass." With one final kick in his stomach, I leave him curled up and walk away.

XXXxxxXXXxxx

"Damn Curly." Ricky breaks the silence after we walk a few blocks. "Didn't even know you had yourself a girl. That's why you've been AWOL lately?"

"I don't." Adrenaline still pumps through my veins and I flex my fingers, making sure I didn't damage anything. I know my ribs aren't healing the way they're supposed to be. Between all the work I do at Cassie's house and now this I'm starting to wonder if they'll ever heal.

Ricky is staring at me curiously. "Then what was that about?" He pulls out his pack of cigarettes and holds it out and I dig one out.

"Nothing," I mutter. I light the cigarette and take a few long drags. "He just messed with one of my buddy's sister." It sounds like bullshit even to my own ears.

"Uh huh." I don't have to look at Ricky to know he's smirking. "Who is she?"

"I told you- "I start to say but he cuts me off.

"Yeah, yeah, she's the sister of a buddy, but if that's all she was a clown wouldn't be back there with the shit beat out of him."

I stare at the glow of my cigarette. I forgot that Ricky knew so much because he was also very observant. He caught things that most people don't notice. There's no point in lying to him. "I like her." I admit for the first time out loud.

"No shit," Ricky laughs. "Must be some broad if you're doing all this for her."

I drop the cigarette and grind it into the pavement. "She's a pain in the ass." I tell him, smiling slightly. "She can be kind of mean sometimes, but she's also never to proud to say she's sorry or admit when she's wrong. She's really independent, but also knows when she needs help. She humble but not shy." I stare down at my bruised knuckles. "She's kind of the only friend I have outside of the gang really."

Ricky stops by the bench at the bus stop and sits down. "She good looking?"

"Yeah," I take the spot next to Ricky. "She's pretty…easy on the eyes."

I don't say anymore. I can't tell him that it's hard seeing her everyday and acting like she's not the reason it's worth getting up in the morning. I can't tell him that at first, I told myself that I was helping her out because I felt bad about her parents and guilty for the way Tim treated her, but I know deep down that it was always more than that. That those feelings I had when we were in sixth grade had lingered all this time.

XXXxxxXXXxxx

I can still feel Cassie's body pressed against mine even though it's been a few days since she hugged me. I can still smell the scent of her skin, and fuck me the way my stomach fluttered. The truck is still parked in the driveway of the house and I glance down at my watch. It's after nine, Darry and Sodapop are always gone when I show up and I wonder if Cassie passed on her bug to them.

I skip going to the front door and go straight to the back. I observed Cassie long enough to know what I'm supposed to be doing without her supervision. I work for an hour straight, without an appearance of Cassie and I wonder if she's still feeling weak.

I debate on going inside for a drink or just using the hose outside, but I can't fight the urge to check on Cassie. I don't knock and just go through the backdoor that leads into the kitchen and I'm surprised to see Cassie filling up glasses with ice tea. Her hair, which is usually piled on top of her head, hangs down her back, being out in the sun so much has turned it an even lighter blonde.

I clear my throat deciding to let my presence be known and she jumps slightly before whipping around, her hand over her heart. "Why do you insist on sneaking up on me?" she asks. "Are you trying to give me heart failure or something?"

I don't answer because I'm completely focused on her face. Her nose is bruised and swollen and I step closer to her. "The fuck happened to you?" I ask, gently taking her chin between my fingers and examining her nose.

"Accident with a soda bottle, but listen this isn't really the best time for you to be here- "

Before she can finish Darry walks into the kitchen with a man next to him. A man I recognize. Tom Booker.

I instantly drop my hand and take a step back, shoving my hands into the pocket of my jeans and leaning back against the wall.

I can see Darry shoot Cassie a questioning look and she gives a shrug of her shoulders.

"This is one of Ponyboy's friends," Darry says, putting an emphasis on me being one of Pony's friends. "He's been helping out with getting the garden up and going." I can tell that Darry doesn't want the social worker to think that some hood is here for his little sister.

"Isn't that nice." Mr. Booker smiles and sticks out his hand. "I'm Mr. Booker."

I stare at his hand for a second, surprised but grateful that he isn't revealing that we already know each other and why.

"Curly," I mutter, shaking his hand, playing along. "But I only dropped by to get something I lent to Ponyboy, but I can get another time."

I make my escape through the front door, barely giving Ponyboy and Sodapop a wave on my way out. I only get a few blocks away when a car slows down next to me. I glance over and see Mr. Booker.

I stop walking. "Curtis's place was probably a lot more pleasant than my place, huh?"

He half smiles. "Mildly."

"Able to get out of there pretty fast," I remark.

"Just like I won't discuss your case with anyone else, I won't discuss someone else's case with you. I'm sure you can appreciate that."

"Sure, sure."

"I'm actually glad I ran into you today. Your mom hasn't been returning any of my calls."

I rock back on my heels slightly. "She's been busy." With the new pills the doctor just prescribed her.

"How about I treat you to a burger and we can talk."

I start to decline, but a free meal is a free meal, so I walk around the car and get in.

"Things okay at home?" Mr. Booker asks when I'm on my second burger.

"Oh, yeah great," I finish off my fries, realizing I haven't eaten since yesterday. "You just caught my mom at a bad time, you know?"

He smiles again. "We all have those days, I suppose." His words don't come out condescending, but I know he doesn't believe it and is just pretending to.

"Curly…" He says my name slowly, deliberately. "You have every right to be angry."

"Uh, thanks?"

"And I understand you're angry, you've been dealt a rotten hand, but there's other ways to express your anger."

"Am I supposed to know what you're talking about?" I ask taking a drink from my Coke. Did he somehow know about the clown?

"Cassie has a busted nose." He's watching me carefully.

"I know, I saw."

"And I don't think any one of her brothers would do it."

I set my glass back down. "They wouldn't."

"You have busted knuckles; she has a busted nose and after seeing you two together earlier it's not hard to see that something is going on between you two."

"Wait a minute…" I rub my forehead. "You think I hit her? You think I busted her nose?"

"Listen Curly, I'm not judging you, okay? I want to help you…like I said I get your angry. Your dads in prison and after meeting your mom- "

"Shut the fuck up," I cut him off angrily. "I didn't hit Cassie; I would never hit a girl." I take all the money I have in my pocket and fling it at his startled face. "I don't want shit from you."

I storm out of the diner. Did I have the mark of the beast on my fucking forehead that everyone always just assumed the worst about me? I kick the trashcans by the alley, knocking them over, but that didn't do much to let out any of my aggravation.

I head home, the food that I had scarved down so greedily, turning into acid in my stomach. I'm madder at myself than anything because I actually liked Mr. Booker, thought he was an okay guy, but all he saw when he looked at me was my old man.

XXXxxxXXXxxx

If I was thinking earlier, I wouldn't have stuck around the house so long, knowing Tim would show up eventually and let me have it for not being around lately. He was mad, but I couldn't really seem to make myself care. It's funny because once upon of time all I wanted was his approval and now I couldn't care less about it.

I still had to listen to him though and that's why it's three in the morning and I'm sitting in a car on the corner of Sutton, doing a job for him. Ricky is the driver so I don't mind so much, what I do mind is the third guy, Tim decided to stick us with, Joey.

A guy who didn't know how to shut the fuck up and keeps talking a mile a minute.

"He's flying," Ricky mutters and I sigh. When Tim finds out that one of his boys is getting high, he's going to be pissed. Tim was a strict leader and he absolutely despised drugs. Won't even sell them. Says they are destroying the streets.

Ricky checks his watch. "Okay, let's get this over with." He gets out of the and we follow.

The sidewalks and streets are almost completely deserted, the only other soul around is some homeless guy, sitting in the alley with a dog.

While me and Ricky discuss strategy, Joey starts rambling about something that only seems to make sense to him, then starts yelling at the homeless guy, moving his hands around in wide motions.

"Stop looking at me, stop fucking looking at!" He's shouting over and over.

The homeless man is staring at him, but it's obvious he's seeing something else. His stare is completely blank.

"Would you calm the fuck down," Ricky snaps, grabbing Joey by the shirt and giving him a shake. "He doesn't understand a thing you're saying, he's deaf. Now ignore him so we can get this shit done."

We leave Joey to keep lookout against better judgement, but it's not like we have much of a choice. We creep up the stairs of the old building, with Ricky explaining on how to start the fire so it will look like an accident.

He begins to splash the gasoline around the room but before he can start the fire a shot rings out from outside and instinctively, we drop to the floor.

"Shit," Ricky mouths and jumps back to his feet, running out of the room, with me right on his heels. We burst out of the back of the building to see Joey waving a gun around.

"I told him, "He screams out. "I told him!"

Ricky rushes him, grabs the gun from his hand and hits him with the butt of it, sending him crumbling to the ground.

"Oh shit," I gasp out, doubling over, with my hands on my knees.

Laying on the pavement, is the homeless man, blood pouring out all around him, gleaming in the moonlight.

I swallow the bile that fills the back of my throat and take a step towards the man. Thinking maybe I can stop the bleeding…that I can do something…anything. Before I can take another step Ricky grabs my shoulder.

"We've gotta go." His voice comes out calm, he has full control of the situation. "There's nothing we can do for him, alright? He's dead. We need to go."

He's already heading back to the car and opens the trunk. "Help me get this dipshit in." He's struggling to get Joey to his feet, who lets out a groan and a part of me wishes he would have died.

I take a step back then another one. "I can't."

"Curly, where the fuck are you going? Curly!"

Ignoring him, I turn and run and I don't stop running into I feel like my lungs are going to burst and my legs give out. I'm not surprised by the lawn I fall onto. I didn't plan on coming here, but it's where I ended up.

I don't want to go through the front door and risk someone being in the living room. Instead, I creep around the side of the house. Cassie's window is open and I work on removing the screen as quietly as I can, but it's not easy since my hands won't stop shaking.

I pull myself through the window. Cassie is fast asleep on the bed, her hair fanned out behind her on the pillow. She must sense someone else in the room because her eyes open.

I quickly clamp my hand over her mouth before she can scream. "Cassie, it's only me. I'm gonna remove my hand. Don't scream, okay?" Her head bobs up and down and I take my hand away.

"Curly, what is wrong with you?" She half whispers, half hisses and reaches over, turning on the lamp next to her bed. "If Darry catches you in here, he'll kill you. Without hesitation."

I clench my fingers into fists to try to steady them some. "I'm sorry…I just need some place to sleep tonight."

"Darry won't care if you sleep in the living room, he'll care if you sleep in here though."

"I'm sorry. I'll leave." My whole body is trembling and I can't seem to make it stop.

"Wait," Cassie says and gets out of bed. She grabs a chair and pushes it in front of her door. "You can stay." She's watching me carefully.

"No, really, I'll go," I pace around her room, feeling like a caged animal. "I shouldn't of come here."

"Curly." Her voice is soft, her fingers touch my arm. "It's okay really. Come sit down."

I let her lead me to the bed, where she pushes me down, then sits down next to me. "Whatever happened, I'm sure it's going to be okay." Her fingers brush against my cheek and that's all it takes for me to break. That little bit of human contact. With a strangled sob, I lean forehead, my face falling against her neck, tears falling from eyes. I hate myself with each tear, with each sob that racks my body, but I can't stop crying. Her fingers in my hair, her soothing words, just make me cry harder. How long has it been since someone comforted me?

"He's dead." I say the words, once my crying has subsided. I take a shuddering breathe. "He's dead and it's all my fault. It should have been me."

xxxxXXXxxxx

Would love and appreciate feedback!