It has been a long time since I've updated, and I am so sorry for that! But I would like to thank everyone who faved my story, and to those of you who reviewed – charliewalflower, ministryofsound2189, smart-cinderella, synsystersixx, and silverpantherSM. You've all made my day! You are also the reason I'm continuing this, so thanks for the support :)
A/N: Starting from this chapter and continuing for the rest of the story, I'm going to try and slow it down a 'bit. The beginning of this chapter will probably be the last time I skip ahead a few months, so there should be more actual story instead of ground work (lol). I'm not sure how much that means to you, haha, but I just reckoned I'd throw it out there.
-Something else I would like to point out is appearances/descriptions. I know I've mentioned it before, but I figure it wouldn't hurt to say it again. In my mind, Girlie looks a lot like Amy from Secret Life of the American Teenager with curlier/redder hair and greener eyes. Dally looks like movie version Dally (I just LOVE Matt Dillon :] ). Sodapop, Darry, Steve, Tim, Johnny, and Two-Bit look the way they do in the book.
-In case you are confused…this is a little over a month AFTER the last chappie.
Again, thanks to those who are interested in this fic! And, of course, to S.E. Hinton for giving us the greatest book in the WORLD! Haha (I forgot to give her props before);p
Chapter 6~
Picking out something to wear has become a bit of challenge.
It's strange looking into your closet, seeing all of your clothes, but not being able to fit into any of them. I've always been a little bit on the petite side, and so my clothes would had to have been the same, which is the problem, because I haven't needed to buy new clothes in awhile. Being near 5 months pregnant has changed my usually small body, and my already limited wardrobe has become even more limited. I have never been this big before and I know I'll just keep getting bigger. It makes me feel like I'm going to explode before I even have a chance to have the kid.
The guys have barely noticed, being the guys that they are, but they have noticed, and I know it won't be much longer that I can hide behind the "I'm just gaining a little extra weight" lie. It's a good lie, though, I have to admit. It helps that I keep myself as busy as I can and away from the house as much as possible. The only time I'm ever home anymore is to sleep or get ready for work. This summer I finally convinced Darry to let me get a job. I'm waitressing now at the Dingo, the hotspot for all of us on this side of the tracks. It may be a little rough around the edges- the paint is peeling off and there are stains and tears in most of the seats- but anyone will agree when I say that it serves some of the best food there is, and it has a clean and inviting atmosphere. Dottie is the lady that owns the joint, and she takes care of the place the best she can. That's what makes my weight gain excuse so convincing; nobody can resist Dottie's loaded potato-bites and bacon cheeseburgers. Seeing that I work there 5 to 6 days a week, the issue of me gaining a "few extra pounds" doesn't seem out of place to the gang, especially considering that I've been working there for over a month.
I smoothed my hands across my stomach, straightening out the invisible wrinkles of Darry's old shirt. It's a nervous habit I picked up, to look in the mirror all the time. I'm paranoid that someone is going to notice the hard swell of my belly, recognizing my growing size for what it is. But the too large shirt, belonging on the wide shoulders of a boy and not hanging off the slender ones of a girl, covered me nicely; nice enough that my bulge was hidden and I just looked like I was gaining some meat around my stomach. My bra size has gone up a bit, too, and my hips have a softer curve to them. Finally some curves for the growing girl, everybody has been saying. Two-Bit's teasing is driving me crazy.
I was used to this particular green and gold plaid button-up. I've wore it so much because there is only a few things I can wear. About a couple of months ago I went through the hallway closet that has all of our old clothes in it. No one goes in there anymore, not since mom and dad died. I had found some things, not a whole lot, but enough to do me until I saved up enough money to get out of here. There was about four of Darry's old shirts from high school stuffed in there-I had to steal Darry's because Soda has a smaller frame and they didn't cover me all that well-and a couple pairs of his and Sodapop's jeans. The jeans looked like they've been ran through the mill once or twice, but I didn't mind much because they had fit me with a little room to grow in. The only thing I really had to do was hem them. My brothers are tall and I'm, well, not so tall. My hips look weird in them, too. Boys are narrow where girls are curvy, but until I can afford to buy some new skirts I refuse to complain.
Then there were the clothes that had belonged to mom. I could barely stand to look at them while they were on the hanger, but when I forced myself to try on a few of her more flowey blouses, it's like I couldn't stop looking at myself. I was transfixed by what I had seen-I had looked so much like her, so much that she was almost here again. Now I wear her clothes as often as I can. There is a beige colored one with little pink roses on it that I can't get enough of; it's my favorite blouse. The first couple of days that I'd worn her stuff had been hard on my brothers. It was too painful for them, too soon, but I just didn't have a choice. They told me that I had never looked more like mom, but eventually it was because of that very fact that they have come to actually like my new clothes, my new clothes from an old wardrobe that wasn't mine.
I felt like I could be close to her again. I needed that. I had questions that I had to ask her, things about my hard belly and growing size. I was too young to have a baby, I knew that. But I don't blame the kid, it's my fault, and I'm worried about how it's doing. Is it growing right inside of me? Does it have all its parts, all fingers and toes? Would mom and dad be happy they were going to be grandparents? I have never felt so lonely in my life. It's not like I have anyone I could talk to about it. It's rare that girls my age get pregnant, I've only known of one other girl personally who did. Her name was Susie Maywood, and as soon as word got out, she suddenly had to go visit a sick aunt in Idaho. Nobody has seen her since. That's what happens to young girls that get pregnant: they either leave town or walk into school married all of a sudden. Let's just say that I wasn't expecting to get married anytime soon.
I'm worried about the baby. I have to get out of Greaser territory. I don't want the kid to have to put up with all the rivalries; it already has to be brought into this world by a screw-up like me.
It has to be brought into this world at all….
It was bad enough to be looked down upon for being a Greaser, which is something we have no control of. Being a pregnant sixteen-year-old? That was something I did have control over. I was going to be judged for the rest of my life, but I was prepared for that, and used to it in a way. At least I'll be out of here soon. At least I'll be around people I don't know; why should I care what people who don't mean anything to me think about me? I was being a coward by running away, but I just wouldn't be able to handle telling my brothers. It's not so much Darry I'm worried about, he hated me anyway. It was Sodapop. I don't think anyone could ever stand hurting him. But I did care about Darry. It doesn't matter, though, because as soon as word gets out the state will take me away from him. That's why I've decided to just leave on my own. Seems better to just walk away, instead of dragged out of your own house like a bad puppy that bit at the kids and needed to be taken away because it probably had some kind of disease. That's what they all thought about us anyway…Just a disease that needed taken care of. Nothing more than that. No voice, no feelings, no real importance. Nothing.
The same clock I've used since I was old enough to get myself up for school was sitting on the faded dresser of my vanity. I always set it far enough away from the bed that I have to actually get up to turn it off, otherwise I'd just keep turning it off by reaching over to the nightstand and never move from my bed.
It was 12 o'clock and I haven't even left my room yet. I moved back in here about a week after I found out I was pregnant. Soda and I have this habit of cuddling, and he likes to fling his arm over my neck or waist. I always loved being close to him, but I guess I've always known that I couldn't sleep with him forever. We started sharing his bed when mom and dad died because I was having what doctors had called "night terrors". The doctor had a simple solution, though: read more, draw more, play more. It had worked. By the time I was ready to go to sleep my mind was so exhausted that it just didn't want to dream anymore. Now, I have work to keep me busy. That's why I had woken up so late, I was just so tired from my shift last night. I used to wake up early, early enough that I could watch the sunrise break through the morning mist and evaporate the dew that coated the grass. Those days seemed like years ago, not a few months ago.
The house was quiet. Almost too quiet. No one's here, I thought, because if they were there would be some kind of noise going on. Darry, Sodapop, and Steve were at work. I would be at work too if Dottie didn't give me the day off for hauling the extra hours from another girl's shift. Okay, so I didn't want the day off, I hated being worried at home, but she practically forced me; said I worked too hard for a kid.
I gulped down a glass of orange juice, taking extra care to avoid confrontation with chocolate milk, and then pushed open the door. I made sure to leave it unlocked. We never locked the door because too many times one of the boys in my gang need the place, whether it was for sleeping off a hangover, lying low, or simply a place to eat and take a shower. We don't have anything worth stealing anyway, no one on this side of town does, and so there usually aren't any house robbers that even bother. The door will always be open for whoever needs it. One time I had come home from school and actually found Tim Shepard sitting in Darry's chair. He looked up when he heard me come in, gave me a smile that had unnerved me-the kind that said he knew something- and nodded in my direction. What had surprised me more than the fact that Tim was in my living room in the first place, was when he folded up the paper and sauntered over to me with enough sly grace to make me jealous. He's always been sleek like that, he reminded me of a big cat, and at that moment I felt like a mouse. "Hey, Baby Curtis," he had said while wrapping his scarred arms around my waist. Tim Shepard, leader of the Shepard gang, had kissed me that day for the second time in a month. I wasn't surprised enough that I didn't know what was going on, but I still didn't know how to react. So I kissed him back. What else was I supposed to do? He left shortly after when we heard Soda and Steve come in on their lunch break. They had perfect timing, I had thought. Guilt crept on me and flashes of that night at Buck's gnawed at my conscience until I couldn't stand it anymore.
Thinking back always made me feel guilty, but I've decided to just let it go. The damage is done and there's nothing I can do about it. I can't live my life dwelling on something I can't change, eventually it would destroy me. I needed to focus on something else, so I took a good look at my surroundings. There was a stocky figure snoring on our porch swing, a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels snuggled safely in his arms as he swayed back in forth. I wasn't surprised to find him there. He has fallen asleep in stranger places, a trash can being one of them. I walked over to him.
"Two-Bit." He grunted. I rolled my eyes and tried again. "Two-Bit wake up, ya lazy bum."
"Ahh, come on, mom…" He mumbled while throwing one of his arms over his face. I couldn't tell if he was actually asleep or just trying to be a pain in my back. You could never tell with the neighborhood funnyman.
"Oh, no you don't. Get up!"
"Go away!"
"Up, Two-Bit!"
"Leave me alone!" He whined. Whined, can you believe it? An eighteen-year-old Grease whining because he didn't want to wake up. I shook my head in mild disbelief, grabbing the bottle tucked next to his chest. Two-Bit was caring for that bottle like it was a new born. "Hey!"
"Get up and get in the house and I'll give it back. You can fall right back to sleep on the couch. You look like an idiot sprawled out the way ya are on the porch swing-on my porch swing, mind you-in broad daylight!"
He grumbled a few unintelligible words before making an effort to do as he was told. His long arms stretched above his head and his back arched like a cat as he sat up. I looked at him for a minute, wondering what it was like inside his head. He was always looking at the bright side of things, and could find a joke in things that just weren't meant to be funny. Two-Bit believed that if you thought it was going to be okay and then said it was going to be okay, then it just had to be okay. He was almost nineteen and still a junior in high school. He had no job, no responsibilities, and no cares, and for the slightest moment I was mad at him because he didn't realize that he was an adult and I was a child. It wasn't fair that he was the one that got to live the life I was supposed to be living- carefree and void of restrictions, as a teenager.
"Why'd you have to go and wake me up, kid? I was havin' one of the best dreams…" He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to right himself and clear the sleep from his eyes.
"Because it's twelve o'clock and you'dve slept the day away if I hadn't. Why didn't Darry or Soda wake you up?"
"I dunno. Superman was yellin' at me on his way to the truck. I can't remember what about and he was in too much of a hurry to actually give a damn."
" You look awful."
"Yea, well, I feel awful." He grumbled, but amazingly his dopey smile was plastered on his face. "Gotta helluva hangover."
"You've always got a hangover, Two-Bit." It was true, he drank like a fish. "What'd you do last night?"
"Just some fun, baby." The way he said it mixed with that twinkle in his eye had me convinced that it was a whole lot more than that. He opened his mouth to enlighten me with the details of his "fun" and I wished I hadn't asked. "Me and this pretty little blonde-thing, you see, spotted this nice abandoned ally after that party I went to at the ol' Pexmille property. She liked it when …I…" He trailed off, his eyes focused on something far away. He stood up, looking out father behind my head. "Well, I'll be…Here comes trouble."
I turned my head to see what he was talking about, and saw one of the last things I would've expected to see. When Two-Bit said that trouble was on its way, I trained my ears to pick up the sound of a red Corvair or possibly a sharp looking Mustang. I thought that some Soc's had taken it upon themselves to venture onto Greaser territory, again. I had thought wrong. Trouble didn't come in the form of Soc's, and now that I think on it, the way Two-Bit said it was in a teasing sort of way. Now, I know why, because trouble came in the shape of our good buddy.
Dallas Winston was walking down the street with his head held high and a strut to his walk. He was as mean and tuff looking as the last time I saw him. His eyes were the same blazing brown, burning with a hate for the whole world. As hard as I tried to block the image of a different burning in his eyes, I couldn't. I'll never be able to forget what Dallas looked like without all the hate and anger and bitterness, and that's because I've only seen him without all of those things a handful of times; they were apart of him, after all. But never had he lost it all on me. Dally had a pleasured expression on his face that night from all of the booze and the weed and the sex, but he still had it, and it had amazed me while it lasted. It's like he had absorbed my eyes, soaked up all my attention in such a way that I had even dreamt about it. His face…
The smaller figure of the boy next to Dallas stole my attention for a moment, because this wasn't a dream or that night at Buck's. This was the present, and presently, I couldn't care about anything else whenever I'd see him. Especially whenever he had a new bruise or scar, or when there was that slow calculating look in his eyes that told the world he was weary of everyone. This boy would have my attention until I knew every part of him was safe.
When I had walked passed the old couch in my living room I had wondered where Johnny was, afraid that he had slept the night in the lot or at his folks' place. Sometimes, I knew Johnny would just meander around until it was daylight so he could waste time with Two-Bit or at the DX. It upset me when he would do that, and it also made me feel horrible. Over a month ago, after my birthday, when I had fallen asleep with him on the couch, things haven't been the same between the two of us. It wasn't him, it was all me. It's always me. I had chickened out. I didn't tell him. I don't know what was wrong with me that morning, anyways. Must have been the hormones. I can't really explain it, but it's like I fell asleep in his arms with every intention of telling him what happened and about my feelings for him, but woke up with every urge not to.
By the time they had pushed open the rusty door of our gate, I was sure I had picked every little string that had hanged loose at the ends of my shirt. Well, not necessarily, but I was so nervous that I may as well have. Didn't help much that I gave up on cigarettes, cause usually when I'm nervous or anxious a smoke or two always calmed me down. I had relied on them for a long time, but for some reason cigarette smoke makes me have the worst headaches since I've gotten pregnant, and what's worse is they make me incredibly dizzy.
But, man! What I'd do for a weed right now.
"Well, hey man! Johnny, where'd you pick up a hood like this? I thought they were all out of stock down at the market!" Two-Bit laughed in that merry way he does whenever he makes a joke that he thinks is absolutely hilarious. He jumped off the porch with more enthusiasm than a person with a hangover should, though I should know by now that something as trivial as that couldn't keep ol' Two-Bit down. He rushed down to meet them half-way up the walk, but I choose to hang around the porch for just a bit longer.
I felt unsure of myself. The last time I had talked to Dallas was the day he got arrested, and that was over three months ago. It was different then. Even after the morning he brought me home from Buck's with a hangover, things weren't any different between the two of us, or not that different, anyways. Everything carried out the same, especially for Dally. He acted the way he always has, just like I knew he would. He continued to treat me the same way, but some of the things he had done even before that night I had never really noticed before. Things like the suggestive remarks he would direct my way, how he would always invade my personal space and lower his voice to make a point, or how his hand would "accidentally" brush my thigh or backside. Though, I had to admit, he did get a little more forward with me, more abrasive, and I was a bumbling mess because of it, which he found very amusing. Strangely, he never told anyone about it-strange because Dallas was one of the worst to brag. Whenever the guys would start getting riled up in their sex stories-something even Sodapop joined-, I was terrified Dally would slip and say something about us, or say something anyways just because he could. He never did, though. And I have a strange feeling it was because he was trying to not hurt Johnny, that and he didn't want Darry to find out. Nobody would want that. Dally had stayed loyal to his word and started to watch Johnny and me like a hawk; as far as he was concerned, it would be a cold day in hell that another Soc touches either of us. Eventually, I had relaxed whenever Dally was around. I had nothing to worry about, I thought.
That was then, and then I didn't know Dallas had gotten me pregnant.
"I didn't know you were out of the cooler yet, Dal. I thought you were in for 'bout 150 days." I was trying to be brave by talking to him, taking that first step to a normalcy I knew would never really be again.
"Got out early. Good behavior."
I set the Jack Daniels down and made my way over to them one slow step at a time, stopping to stand by Johnny. "Sure, Dally. For some odd reason I find that hard to believe."
"Believe it or not, baby, here I am."
"Yea, yea…I'll be sure to put an ad in the paper warning the rest of Tulsa," I managed to joke. I just hoped he couldn't see through me, couldn't see how awkward he was making me just by being here.
He smirked slowly and blew smoke in my face. I pushed it away with my face scrunched up dramatically. "Don't think it would matter none, but help yourself." Dally's cold eyes looked me up and down from where he practically towered over me, and I shied back to being a little girl. I almost forgot that he intimidated me thoughtless. "In fact, let's go inside and you can help yourself to all that you want." He couldn't be more suggestive if he tried. When his smirk grew wider I averted my eyes, totally speechless and knowing he succeeded in turning my face a betraying shade of red. Stupid face.
Dally laughed at this and so did Two-Bit, and even Johnny (whose face was also red) chuckled a little. This was horrible. I felt myself getting upset and a part of me wanted to cry, but I held my hormones back long enough to remain cool.
Two-Bit clapped me on the back harder than necessary- he was often senseless to the fact that I'm a girl and he should be easier with me- and laughed. " Now, Dally…Don't go givin' Girlie here any ideas that she's full grown and can mess around like the big girls do. We all know what kind of trouble she can cause." He winked at me, referring to Tim, and I wanted to hit him. When he smiled at me, though, I had to smile back. He and Soda just had that ability.
"I'm sixteen."
"So?"
"So that's only two years younger than you, stupid!"
"Oh…," He said, absolutely clueless. "When'd that happen?"
"Over a month ago." I rolled my eyes good-naturedly.
"You were there, man. She had a party 'n everything." Johnny piped in. He looked far too amused at the whole situation, but he looked happy. And happy looks good on him.
"He was probably too drunk to remember, like that's a shocker." Johnny and I broke into a laugh, Dallas merely shook his head, and Two-Bit was trying keep his face locked in an indignant expression.
"Hey, now! I didn't ask to be picked on like this."
"You didn't need to ask, dumbass," Dally said slyly. "You're just so naturally stupid that opportunities keep poppin' up to say shit about ya. The way I look at it is you deserve it."
I snickered at the cheesy grin on Two-Bit's face as he said, "Aw… I love you, too, Dal!" Dallas let out a string of friendly curses as Two-Bit continued. " You know what we should do?"
"I'm kinda afraid to ask," Johnny whispered as Two-Bit flung his heavy arms over his and Dally's shoulders. Dally shrugged him off, but Two-Bit didn't notice. If he had he never showed it, or never cared.
Two-Bit ruffled Johnny's hair. "Don't be that way, kid. I was gonna say that we should celebrate our good friend Dallas and his new found freedom."
"For however long it lasts?" I kidded, looking at Dallas from the corner of my eye. He scowled at me, looking as mean as ever. I bit my lip and muttered a 'sorry' before looking back at Two-Bit. It scares me just how scary Dally can be, I thought, even if he is my friend and looks out for me. And I still slept with him. " I ain't fixin' to get in any kind of trouble tonight. Darry'll skin me."
"Who said anything 'bout trouble? Look, all I'm sayin' is lunch and a movie." Knowing Two-Bit, there was probably some form of alcohol going to be included. I didn't care how innocent he tried to look, I just knew him too well.
"Yea, sure. I'm down for anything other than sittin' around all day. I gotta enough that in jail, man," said Dally. "What about it, Johnnycakes? Girlie, you comin'?"
I saw Johnny nod, so I answered for both of us. He doesn't like to speak unless he has to. "Me and Johnny'll go."
"Alright!" Two-Bit clapped his hands then turned to walk to the gate. "Welp, I guess I'll see you kids later!"
I stopped him as he was getting his car keys out of his pocket. One of these days he's going to kill himself drinking and driving. "Where are you goin'? Ain't you coming with us?"
"Nup. I'm headin' home for awhile."
"It was your idea, genius." Dallas said from beside me. When did he get there?
"Yea, I know." Two-Bit started his car and rolled down his window to yell, "My momma will have a heart attack if I don't show up soon. Haven't been home in a couple of days. I'm plannin' on gettin' boozed up, though, Buck's havin' quarter pitcher night. But if I don't get too drunk I'll come a by little later and join ya'll."
"Don't bother, man. I'll be there tonight. The movies can wait 'til tomorrow." Dallas lit up another cigarette and looked at Johnny and me. "That cool with you?"
"Sure." Johnny said.
I didn't really want to go to the movies tonight, anyways. "That's fine. I gotta work from 10 to 6, though."
Dallas nodded. "Whatever. We'll just meet you there then."
Two-Bit's car grumbled as it rolled down the street and to his house. He drove like a maniac. "Cool enough," I said.
"Come on, you two. I'm starvin' and there's a burger at the Dingo with my name all over it." Dallas started walking, and, of course, we followed him. I didn't tell Dally that I was sick of taking the same walk to work everyday and would rather go somewhere else, if merely for the change of scenery. He was in a surprisingly good mood and I'm not going to be the one who ruins it. Besides, I've been craving one of Dottie's cherry-chocolate milkshakes, anyways. "So, uh, I didn't know you were workin' now, Girlie."
"Darry finally let me. We're headin' there now, actually."
"The Dingo?"
"Uh-uh. Waitressin' over a month, now." I was fighting to keep my voice steady. Life was getting too surreal at the moment, like I wasn't actually living it but reading about it as if someone else was going through this nightmare.
"Hey, Girlie," Johnny said, walking between us. "Don't you get a discount or somethin'?" He sounded concerned.
I had forgotten about that. Johnny had his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet as we continued on. I wondered if he had any money, if that was what he was worried about. "50%," I answered, smiling at him. "That means I'm buyin'."
Johnny nodded, and as he smiled in gratitude my heart soared, as cheesy as it sounds. I watched as dark pieces of greasy hair fell over his tanned face. This is what I love, I thought, making Johnny happy, helping him feel like he belonged and was loved by us. He wasn't a burden, not by a long shot, and I took every opportunity that presented itself to make sure he understood that.
Dally and Johnny had slowed their pace without realizing it. They were talking, catching up, but I stayed quiet. I didn't even know what they were talking about and I didn't really care; I was just grateful that I didn't have to say anything. My thoughts were everywhere and all over the place, but I took some comfort in how familiar this was. Walking and goofing off like the old days. I felt my face sag into a frown when I realized how they could act the way they were. As far as they knew, nothing was out of place, everything was normal. They didn't know everything. I did, though, and I felt like a liar. It just felt wrong acting like everything was the same, when I knew very well that it wasn't. If they knew what I did they most certainly wouldn't be carrying on the way they were. If Johnny knew, he would either be holding my hand or possibly hiding from me. If Dally knew…well, if he knew he would undoubtedly scream at me then go get drunk and do something to get himself hauled in, again. No. I knew how things should really be right now, and how they should be terrifies me something awful.
We passed by the DX and tried to talk Soda and Steve into going to the Dingo with us. Sodapop wiped off his hands with a rag that only made his hands even dirtier. "Nah, we can't go. Wish we could, though. Man, is it hot out here! I'd kill for a 'shake ."
"Why not?" I whined. Soda being there with us would make today so much better. He is my favorite person, after all.
Steve threw the bottle of Coke he was drinking in the trash, it shattered and I could imagine what the pieces looked like. Sharp and pointed, like the way he was unnecessarily glaring at me. "Look around ya, twerp. We're busy today. It would be impossible to get a early break." He smirked. It was so frustratingly rude and cocky that I almost picked up the end of that broken pop bottle and sliced his face with it. I'm feeling crazy enough lately to do it, too. "Darry's right. You really can't use your head, can ya?"
"Fuck you, Steve!"
"Ponygirl!" Soda was looking at me with a shocked expression, everyone was. Especially Steve. Johnny's eyes had gone wide and Dally was grinning. It's not like me to cuss, not at all. I just don't do it. I'm kind of like Soda that way. But I couldn't stand it any more! Not myself, not this mess I've gotten myself into, not Dallas, and definitely not Steve Randle! I've had all I could stand of him and I'm not going to put up with his crap any longer. I've done nothing to him, never, and it's time he starts showing me some respect. He was unknowingly throwing the mistakes I've made during the last few months in my face, and I had reached my boiling point.
"No, Soda!" I shouted. "I've had as much of you, Randle, that I can stand in one lifetime!" I shoved him, hard enough that he stumbled back, out of shock more than anything. I couldn't tell you what got into me, but lately I haven't been able to control myself. And there's things that I've been wanting to get out in the open for a while now. "You've treated me like shit my whole life. If ya ain't noticed, you are only a year older than me. I'm not some kid, some tag along, and I have the right to be near my brother any damn time I want!"
Steve was getting embarrassed that I was causing such a scene. It doesn't look real tuff when a girl tells you off in front of everybody. "Listen here-"
I grabbed the finger he wagged in front of me and shoved it back in his face. "I don't wanna listen to you, Steve. I hate the sound of your voice! Yer like a screeching bobcat. I ain't never done anything to you but tolerate you, and that was for Sodapop's sake." I threw up my hands, shrugging like nothing mattered. "But ya know what? I just can't find it within' myself to care anymore. From now on I'm treatin' you the way I feel like treatin' you. I don't give a flying fuck what Soda feels about it!"
I turned on my heel and started to storm off in the direction of the Dingo, ignoring Soda's pleading with me to come back and Dally's laughter. I was still mad, so mad that I didn't care who I yelled at, including Dallas. "If you two are gettin' something to eat I suggest you hurry." I called out from over my shoulder, still walking away from them. "I ain't waitin' on ya and you need me if you want that discount!"
"Watch your mouth, girl!" Dally threatened, but he was beside me in an instant, Johnny right behind him.
"Don't you tell me what to do!" I snapped.
My anger flickered to almost nonexistent when he grabbed my arm and turned me to face him. Dallas' eyes amazed and frightened me. I remembered the last time I was this close to him, it was under entirely different circumstances, and I'm sure he was wanting to do something other to me than yell in my face. "What did you say to me?"
Boy, was he dangerous. If I didn't know Dallas so well, I could've sworn he was going to hit me. But, I knew he would never do that. Still, I gulped and stuttered, "S-sorry, Dal." I looked down to the ground and concentrated on his cowboy boots, I couldn't see my own feet anymore.
"Wise ass." He muttered. I could feel his breath on my cheek and his hand digging into the muscle of my arm. Why hasn't he let go of me? I made the mistake of looking back up, and the first thing I saw was his lips. He was saying something, but I couldn't hear him. I was too busy watching his mouth move. It was such a dark pink, kind of rosy. I'd never noticed before. I bit my lip, remembering when I sucked on his bottom one. If I had obeyed my hormones, at that moment, Dallas would have had one heck of a kiss laid on him.
Why? Why did I have to sleep with someone that I'd have to see all the time? And why did he have to be so freakin' sexy? It's my fault…I knew I thought Dal had certain, um, attributes that I found…fascinating.
"Yea, he's right, Girlie." Johnny's voice made my eyes go wide. Dang! How'd I forget about him?
"Okay." I blinked stupidly, then quickly shook my head. "Wait…What'd he say?" Something else I couldn't control, wanting to have sex that is. A couple of weeks ago, I'd stolen a book on pregnancy at the local bookstore. Some things in it scared me, some made me laugh, some made me embarrassed, others made me want to throw up, and some things I didn't believe. Take for instance, being horny. That book said that around the fifth month of pregnancy, your hormones would basically start going crazy. One minute you'd want to scream at everyone, the next you'd start crying. Another minute you'd rip anyone's head off that wanted to touch you, then the next you'd want to jump their bones so hard they'd break. I didn't believe it; now, however, I'm standing by it as my number one excuse.
By the way Dally was smirking at me, I had a gut-wrenching feeling he'd caught me starring. "I said, Girlie." Wow. "That if Steve so much as looks at you the wrong way, I'd rip him a new one. Got it? I meant what I said. No one's gonna bother you and Johnnycakes anymore. I don't care if it's a buddy or a stranger. "
I wanted to say, "No. I can take care of it myself." But I didn't say that. I was irrationally emotional and angry right now, true, but I was in no way stupid. My head bobbed up and down in the affirmative. "Sorry."
"Geez…" Dallas sighed. His eyes rolled and he shook his head. He looked exasperated. "Kid, you have gotta stop doin' that."
"What are you talkin' bout?"
"This whole "I'm sorry" business. You've said it at least three times in the last hour. You're startin' to bug me, so cut it out."
"I…" Before I could get the word sorry out of my mouth, Dallas shot me an annoyed look. There are three goals I try to stick to: Keep Darry happy, avoid the Soc's, and never, not by any means, have Dally's anger directed at me. I decided on a different route of thinking. "I…just…don't know what's gotten into me. I've been snapin' at everyone lately."
"Whatever. Just knock it off."
"Fine. But, uh…" I glanced down to where his large hand circled my arm. "You're kinda hurting me, Dal."
Dally let go of me so quick I thought I'd burned him. He ran a hand through his hair and lit another cigarette. "Come on, Johnny. Let's lead the princess to her castle."
"Sure, man." Johnny laughed. I loved it when he laughed. He hardly does it anymore, not since he got jumped a few months back. I hurried to catch up with them. When I linked my arm through Johnny's, he looked up with wide black eyes. "I thought you were mad at me or somethin'." His voice was barely a whisper, but I heard him.
"No. You ain't done nothin'. You're always thinking that and I'd wished you'd stop it." Pause. " But…there's something you gotta know."
If my arm wasn't linked with his he would've stopped walking. "What about?"
"I don't wanna tell you here. Soon, I promise."
"Is this what you were gonna tell me on your birthday?"
Dallas interrupted by merging between us. When he threw his arms over both of our shoulders, I could smell the soap he used from his shower that morning. Soap, cigarettes, and leather. Great, I thought, now I have his taste, his face, and his smell memorized. "Well, so sorry to interrupt the love birds, but, uh…you's two wouldn't be talkin' bout me, would ya?"
"Come on, Dal. You know we were. Yer just too dang interestin' not to."
"Damn straight." Dally said with a smirk- a smirk that was actually a smile, one he saved whenever Johnny decided to open up and play a little-while holding Johnny in a headlock. It was rare that Johnny got sassy like that.
"Ow, man!"
"Say uncle!"
"Come on!" Johnny struggled unsuccessfully to get free. I laughed as I watched them goof off together. It was times like this that you could almost forget that Johnny was beat at home and Dallas was a hood and that I was a pregnant teen by the hood. Almost being the key word. "Alright, alright! I give, okay. You win! Would ya let me go now?"
"Well, since we are here an' everything, I guess I'll have to." Dally let go of him and popped his collar before strutting into The Dingo. I swear, he could walk through any door and make it look like he owned the place.
Johnny and I followed Dallas inside. He was sitting at a booth in the back tormenting Molly. Molly was a pretty brunette waitress. She was taller than me, but not by much, and built even smaller than I was. She's been working here a few months longer than me. Even though she's about five years my senior, we hit it off pretty quickly and she's become a good friend and confidant. Molly is someone you shouldn't judge too quickly. Sure, she's soft spoken, but she has a short fuse and isn't afraid to unleash her opinion on anybody. And, boy, is she opinionated. She's the only person who knows I'm pregnant. I didn't tell her, she just…found out. She had walked in on me changing last week and saw my bump. I spilled everything to her and she's helped me out a lot. With a kid of her own, I can afford her advice. Also, with her knowing, with someone knowing, I wasn't so alone anymore.
"If you don't stop shootin' straw paper at me, I'm gonna throw you out myself!"
I jumped in before Dallas could say anything back to her, knowing he wouldn't leave without the cops escorting him out. "Dally! You ready to order?"
Molly placed her hand on a cocked hip, looking somewhat surprised. "Yer here with this idiot?"
With a nervous chuckle, I said, "Uh, yea. He's my buddy." I took a deep breath before introducing him, knowing she'll remember his name. "This is Dallas Winston."
As expected, she remembered. Her blue eyes grew round. "Him?" She hissed. "Oh, Girlie…"
"And this is Johnny Cade."
Molly was annoyed that I cut her off, but I could tell she was glad I stopped her from elaborating whatever she was going to say. She gave me that look, the one that said 'we're talking about this later' and left no room for discussion. Finally, she smiled and extended a hand to Johnny. "Hi, there. It's nice to meet ya. Girlie goes on and on about ya all the time!"
I saw Johnny's face get darker, and could feel mine become a little heated as well. "Hey."
"What? Don't I get a handshake?"
Molly glared at Dallas before looking back at me. I think she blamed him for everything; if only it were that simple. "I guess I'll see ya tomorrow. And don't think I'm gonna let you off the hook!"
"See ya." I muttered.
I sat in the worn, red circle booth, scooting closer to Dally to make room for Johnny. Dallas was starring at me. "What was that about, huh?"
"Not sure. Guess I'll find out tomorrow." I tried to shrug, but it came off feeling uncomfortable. I'm sure I looked every bit as awkward as I felt.
There were only two other waitresses working today and they were swamped, so Molly ended up seeing more of me that day then she had thought. We had no time for chit-chat because she was awfully busy herself. She quickly took our orders, throwing angry glances at Dally the whole time, which caused him to glare at me. He was smart and so he knew I was hiding something, and Dallas hated not knowing things, especially when they involved him. I guess if I had to spend my life guessing how other people were going to treat me everyday, I would be the same.
Johnny and Dallas had ordered more food than I could eat in three days. I watched Johnny scarf down his second cheeseburger and third order of fries, and wondered how such a small guy could eat so much. Dallas I could understand. Standing at 6'1, he wasn't exactly a little fella. Dally had lost some weight and I knew that had to do with his most recent time in jail.
"I bet you're pretty sick of prison food, huh, Dally?"
He licked his fingers clean of barbeque sauce. "No kiddin'."
I tried to imagine what it must be like in a place like that but my mind was completely empty of such things. I kept conjuring up images of dank and musty hallways and cells, places that I read about in my novels. They were mixed with stories that I'd heard from some of the guys I knew, the guys that had the experience first hand, and so the thoughts in my head weren't clear at all. I didn't know what to picture. None of those guys had spend hard time like Dally, though, and none of them had been there quite so many times. I can't imagine why he'd keep pulling stunts like he did to wind himself back there, but I knew Dallas was of the sort to never stop. Not unless something happened to stop him.
"Dallas…" I started, too curious for my own good. "What's it like?"
He stopped inhaling his third sloppy-joe. It's not often that Dally hesitates, and I was scared that I had crossed some invisible line with him; he had quite a few of them. "What's what like? Jail?"
I nodded slowly, not really expecting him to give me a straight answer. Johnny was quieter than usual. He was just as interested as I was. We had often stayed up late, just talking like we always do. The topic of "what is Dally doin' now?", while he was actually in the cooler, rose up more often than a person would think.
Dally's eyes got serious. Not the kind of serious that they have when he's planning something or about to fight somebody, the kind saturated with anger and hate and everything else I never thought about him living with. This was a different type of serious. He means whatever he's going to say and he wants us to realize it, to understand it from him so we won't have to understand it for ourselves. He pointed those eyes at me. "What it's like, Ponygirl, is a place I never want you and Johnny to go. It's like me…and it'll make you like me. Ya don't want that. Do ya understand, kid?"
"Yea, Dal. I get it." It took awhile to shove that sentence out of my mouth. Hearing Dally talk like he cared about something other than a fight was a practically nonexistent occurrence. In a lame attempt to lighten Dally's mood, I grinned and said, "What's so wrong with bein' like you?"
He half-smiled. "Well, ya wanna be liked, dontcha?" I couldn't tell if he was kidding or not.
Not really thinking about it, I responded with, "I like you."
"No you don't!" He shook his head, laughing. I couldn't tell you how relieved I was that he was still in his good mood. "Well…" He grinned. "I guess you'd have to like me just a little bit, huh?"
As per usual, Dallas was being Dallas and found another chance to talk dirty, even if everyone else was clueless when he was doing it. I honestly believe that he couldn't help making people uncomfortable. I felt a hot blush spreading across my cheeks and down my neck. Not so normal, I told him the truth. "I guess so."
Dally's eyes didn't widen, he was too cool for that. But his eyebrow rose in a silent surprised question. He couldn't believe I had just said that, and I couldn't believe that was the way I actually felt. For so long I haven't liked Dally. After everything that's happened, I've had time to think, realizing that it wasn't that I never liked him, I was just always too scared of him to actually think about him as the liking type. I knew he could never care about anyone else, so why bother? But he does care, doesn't he? About Johnny. About the gang. About me. Why would he consider us friends? He has to care. After all, there's things about Dallas that he refuses to share, his feelings being one of them. He fights harder than anyone else I've ever known to remain cool, unaffected, to keep his reputation in tact. It shows weakness to people who would probably kill him if he didn't, and kill those he cares about. I know he's probably risked more than he liked with Johnny and me. Who knows what actually goes on in that crazy head of his? I was too scared to find out, so then why does a large part of me want to know? I wonder if having a kid would kill him?
My straw started sucking in air, making those annoyingly funny slurping sounds. I was having an inner debate on whether or not to get another cherry-chocolate milkshake. I shook the cup a little, willing more ice cream to magically appear, and when it didn't I got up. Dottie was standing behind the register her fake smile changing into a sincere one when she saw me.
"I thought I told you to stay clear of this place today! I meant it when I said you were too young to be workin' so much."
"I know, I know. But me and my friends are out celebratin' today and everybody knows you're the greatest."
She rolled her dark-green eyes. "Uh-huh. Suckin' up to the boss won't get ya a raise, ya know?"
I laughed. "That wasn't what I was doin, at all! They insisted on comin' here cause it's the truth."
"Oh, so they found out about the discount ya mean."
It wasn't a question, and that's what made it so funny. "That too."
"What did ya need, hun?"
I shook my empty cup. "Refill, if you'd please."
"Cherry-chocolate." I didn't answer, but she knew it was what I wanted. I watched her make it and was upset that she couldn't make it faster. "I swear…you could have an unlimited supply of these things and it still wouldn't be enough for ya. You inhale these things like a pregnant woman!"
I didn't know what to say, and when she looked me up and down I didn't know how to breathe, either. "Girlie, I don't mean to pry…" She placed her hand over mine, the warmth of it melting into my skin. "But I've been…noticing some changes in you since you first started workin' here. I just want you to know that I'll be happy to lend an ear anytime you wanna talk." I starred at her. "No questions and no judging. Promise."
She handed me my shake and motioned for me to leave. "Shew, now! Go have fun with your friends while ya can."
She knows! My brain shouted.
I didn't dwell on it, because at that moment Angela and her girls walked in. I haven't had a decent conversation with her since she found out about Tim. Not because I made-out with her brother, mind you, but because she was mad when I hadn't told her, or invited her to come along. It was all she wanted to talk about, and the last thing I wanted to remember. She was one of my best friends, but when summer started I didn't have time for anything other than work. Now, it's just awkward to be around her. Apart of me is bold enough to admit I didn't know how much I trusted her, not anymore.
Her dark blue eyes found me as I sat my shake on our table, and I excused myself to the bathroom as quickly as I could. I found the single bathroom to be unlocked, but before I could close it, a well manicured hand stopped me.
Angela stepped in the cramped space and locked the door behind her. "What is your deal?"
Well, if anything, she's to the point. "I don't know what you're talking about, Angel." I said, using her nickname as if to prove my innocence.
"I don't know what you're talking about," She mimicked in a high-pitched voice. Her curvy hip was slanted, her hand placed there in a fit of girly attitude. "Ya know what I'm talkin' about, Ponygirl Curtis. You've been avoiding me like I was a cop or somethin' for months! I wanna know what the deal is."
"I've just been workin' a lot, is all. Ain't nothing personal, I swear."
"So, what? You're fingers broke or somethin'? Ya couldn't have picked up a phone?"
Oh, boy, I thought. Here comes my own attitude. "Like you're any better. The phone line works two-ways, ya know!"
"Listen…" She sighed and ran a hand over her face. Angela was still as pretty as ever while I was fat cow. "I didn't come in here to fight with ya, alright."
"What did you come in here for, then?"
"Well, before you started actin' like a complete bitch, I was gonna tell ya that if I did anything that I was sorry!"
She was mad, and I felt guilty. I'll admit it and say that at first I blamed her for everything- it was her constant persuading that had me convinced I needed to have sex, anyways. "It ain't nothing you've done." I lied, because I felt she had done something.
"Good." She smiled and I couldn't help but think of Tim. All the Shepards have the same smile. "Then let's just go back to normal, okay? I want my friend back, my real friend. I miss us."
I nodded, feeling awkward and reluctant, but smiling over her words. Normal sounds nice. "Yea, okay."
Angela held open her arms and stepped towards me. I was pressed against her before I could take a step away from her. It was too late. "Oh, shit!" I froze. She held me at arms length. "I didn't believe 'em until now, I swear. But…oh, shit."
"What?" I whispered.
"Nothin' serious." She shook her head, her springy girls bouncing around her shoulders. Her eyes, however, were wide in astonishment, or maybe, realization? "Or…I thought not."
"Angel, what…are…you…talking about?" I said slowly and steadily, my voice dangerously close to screaming.
"There was these…rumors." I didn't care enough to correct her grammar. She lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out the side of her mouth. "About you and Dally." A tremor ran down my spin. "They started a few months ago, when it happened. They stopped until here recently, until they started saying that…ya know."
She waved her hand in the air, but all I could look at was the smoke gathering around her. I was becoming scared, so scared I was going to throw-up. But it was going to come out mad, I can feel it. My brain was borderline hysterical.
"That what?" I snapped.
"Don't play the idiot!" She growled. "And don't tip-toe around the truth by hollerin' at me. Pregnant or not, I'll kick your ass."
"Why would you say that? And who the hell did you here it from?"
She started to lift up my shirt but I slapped her hand away. "That's one reason."
"What?"
"Is that all you can do, huh? Ask fuckin' questions?" Angela was upset and hurt, but I saw sympathy in her eyes. A sympathy I did not want. "It ain't like you can hide it forever, Girlie. Yer gettin' bigger and more distant. People are noticing at it's makin' them talk." She put her hand on my belly, this time I didn't stop her. She was the first person to do so.
"Don't say anything." I whispered. Tear after tear slid down my cheeks, and I didn't even have to blink to get them to fall. I was shaking so bad my back hurt.
"You…you haven't told anybody, have ya?"
I shook my head. "It's gonna stay that way." My face felt so hot and my breathing was so labored that it burned. I stepped behind Angela to rest my head on the door, trying to cool down and wishing the bright pink metal would absorb me. Anything to escape.
"Girlie, yer gonna have to tell your brothers."
"I can't."
"You have t-"
"I said I can't!" I turned back around, but didn't open my eyes. I didn't want to see her. "Who's been saying stuff?"
"I couldn't tell ya who all knows, if that's what you're askin'. Like I said, it's just a rumor. But I can tell ya that it's mostly the girls around here."
"You mean the girls you hang around with?" It was accusing, I know.
"I haven't said anything, so don't even start blamin' me!"
I cracked for the second time that day. "It's all your fault!"
A bitter laugh escaped her bright red lips. "I just can't wait to hear this…"
"For the passed two years of my life you and your little horde of skanks have been pushing what I should and should not do down my throat!" She threatened me at that point, but I ignored her. "All I've heard is "You need to have sex"… "It's what we all do"… "You ain't nothing 'til you prove yourself!" You wanna know what I proved, huh? I proved nothing! Nothing but what happens when you care too much about what other people thought and not enough about yourself."
Her eyes were set in a glare so cold that they would have frozen anyone else. Not me. I wasn't scared of her, not now, not ever. What I was going through was scary. What could happen to me was scary. Angela…she was just a little girl.
"Nice job on blamin' other people for your mistakes. But it ain't like I was forcing you upstairs."
"Might as well have been."
"Oh, shut up!" Her high-heel made a loud smack echo through the room. "You honestly can't believe that you could do something like makin' out with Tim and goin' upstairs with Dallas Winston without people talking. Think about it, would ya! They are the biggest bad-asses in Tulsa, Girlie, people are gonna remember that. And you know what?" She started. "They did remember, Girlie! And when you started gettin' bigger and pissy and avoidin' people only a few short months after, well, they still remembered!"
She crossed her arms over her breasts, looking at me like I was an idiot. It mad me livid that I actually felt like an idiot. I was going to slap her face off if she kept looking at me like that. "It ain't like it takes a genius to connect the dots. Besides…girls can always tell this sorta thing about other girls."
"Right." I scoffed. "Of fucking course."
"What are you goin' on about, now?"
I glared at her, and I took small joy in seeing her back down a little. "That's the real reason you came in here, isn't it? You wanted to see for yourself, huh? Wanted to know if it was all true!"
Tears were streaming down my face again. I felt like I was trapped in hell. I had no control over myself; my tears wouldn't stop, my voice was getting louder, and my temper was on the verge of causing me to explode and beating someone to death. I had this fear placed on me, one I was expecting, but I was hoping I had skipped down by then. People were starting to talk about me and I had no idea about it, and Angel was just making me feel worse. Like I was being betrayed. I was so confused, I didn't know if I actually believed all these things or not.
"It ain't like that!"
"Sure it ain't." I hissed. " I don't know why I bothered, askin' you to not tell anybody. You could never keep your damn mouth shut!"
"Girlie…" She began, looking pained, like I had just accused her of all my problems, of being a horrible friend. I didn't stop, though.
"I'm sure all of Okalahoma will know come tomorrow." I turned to leave. "Just leave me alone."
I'm sure I looked crazy running to the table Dally and Johnny were sitting in with tears rolling down my face, black from my mascara smeared everywhere. "We're leaving." I didn't wait for them to answer, but continued to run until I was out the door. I couldn't be here anymore, not around these people. They looked at me like they knew all along, like me rushing out the way I was confirmed it.
"What's the matter with ya?" Asked Dally. He and Johnny were after me quicker than I thought possible.
"Hold up!" Yelled Johnny.
I didn't stop until I was half-way down the street, where I could still hear Angela's voice screaming at me. "Fuck you, Ponygirl!"
Things are about to get bad.
Again, sorry for anything that sucks: grammar, spelling, etc.
A few more things:
-I would like to point out that Girlie's thoughts and emotions are everywhere right now, making her act out a little and get upset/ hurt easier. She isn't OC. Or a lusty bitch.
-Okay, she loves Johnny. This is a fact. But that doesn't mean she can't wonder about other guys. She is obviously attracted to Tim, and Dally IS the father of her baby, so of course she gonna have thoughts about him. I'll give you a little hint on the situation… She is definitely confused about Dal. Help? No? haha
Thanks for reading! If you like, PLEASE review :) They encourage faster writing!