Chapter Twenty Nine

Sodapop pulled me through the doorway and I looked at him with agitation. "I'm not trying to cause any trouble."

Without a word in response, Soda locked the front door.

"Soda, lock the back door and make sure the windows are all latched tight," Darry barked an order.

"Sure thing," Sodapop replied to Darry. Then without looking at me he headed off to the back of the house.

Furious, I looked to Darry and started to plead my case, "Darry, I'm not trying to cause any trouble! I'll be good! I'll be careful! I just want to come home."

"My decision is made, and I'm tired," Darry grumbled as he turned away and began to hobble back to his bedroom.

"Darry, please!" I yelled and ran through the room to get in front of him so he could see how his decision was making me feel. "I can't stay at Ashford. I don't belong there. I need to be home with you two, and Ponyboy."

My brother made a conscious effort not to look at me as he pushed past me to his bedroom door.

"Please!" I groveled, "I miss Ponyboy so much already. I can't be gone from him forever! I don't want to be sent away for good. I promise to behave and get good grades. I'll even find a job so I can help to pay the bills. Please, Darry…"

Darry paused in his doorway and looked over his shoulder at me. "Scout, you know it's not about money. It's about you being safe."

"I'll be safe!" I cried out, "I will be sure to be with someone all the time. Anyone can look out for me, Two-Bit, Steve, Owen…"

"And what about them?" Darry interrupted with a yell, "Who is going to protect them? Who will keep this from happening to them?" Darry turned towards me and lifted his undershirt to show me the long, puffy scar on his abdomen where the surgeons had cut my brother open to save his life. "Do you really want to have to live with that?"

My lip began to quiver and pout at the sight of what I had done to my brother. "Darry, you know how sorry I am for what happened. I didn't know he was going to…"

"I'm not mad at you for what happened. I just don't want to see it happen again. Do you have any idea what those guys out there might have done to you?"

I didn't have an answer.

"I made a promise to Mom and Dad to take good care of you. You may not like it, but I plan to do whatever it takes to be sure I keep that promise, no matter how I have to do it," Darry said assuredly.

I let the heavy tears fall from my eyes, but Darry didn't see them as he pushed his bedroom door shut to avoid any further discussion.

The frustration inside me begged that I open the door and argue my point, but my heart knew to leave my brother alone. Embittered, I turned and looked into the kitchen as Darry's little buddy busied himself with checking the windows to be sure they were safely locked tight.

I walked through the kitchen to the doorway that led to the dinning room. With a quivering lip I asked softly, "Soda, you're not going to let him send me away. Are you?"

Soda didn't look at me when he replied, "He doesn't want to send you away, he has to. If he doesn't, who knows what James or his friends might do to you."

Stunned to hear Sodapop was in agreement with our brother, I implored, "All I want to is to be home. I'm only fifteen, I need to be with my family."

"James Young is a dangerous kid, and so are his friends. Darry is right. Ashford is the safest place for you," Sodapop said, and for the first time since we came into the house he looked at me and I noticed the pain in his blue eyes.

"No, Ashford is all wrong for me. There is nothing for me there."

"I heard your best chance of getting a college scholarship is at Ashford."

"You heard wrong! I don't stand a chance at earning a scholarship from Ashford! Those scholarships aren't' for smart girls like me. Colleges offer scholarships to Ashford girls who are pretty, socials who'll make good wives for wealthy men."

"You don't know that." Soda said with aversion.

"Yes, I do! I know that the girls selected for scholarships last year barely had an A average, and the classes at Ashford aren't even challenging. The girls selected were just gorgeous debutantes from wealthy families. That's not me! I know that if I come back to Tulsa High I can be valedictorian, and I'll join a club or team or something to put on the scholarship application. I'll do whatever it takes."

"You don't get it, Scout! It's dangerous for you here." Soda paused a moment and turned towards me. A tear rolled down his cheek before he softly spoke, "I'll never forget that moment… kneeling in the street, holding you in my arms thinking you were going to die. I already went through that once, and I don't want to do it again. Not with you, or anyone of us."

I let the tears roll from my eyes. "But this is my home and my life. I should be able to choose how I get to live it."

"Well, you're not old enough to make that choice," Sodapop cried softly and wiped his eyes. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'm going to see if Darry needs any help with things." Soda pushed past me through the kitchen and into Darry's room.

Stunned, I looked around the quiet, empty rooms and grew sick to my stomach. I hated feeling so alone. It was the same way I felt at Ashford Academy. There was no way I was going back there to stay!

I took a moment to let the sorrows and the rage I was feeling build up inside of me, then I marched over to Darry's bedroom door and pushed it open. I was ready to fight for what I wanted, but the scene before my eyes quickly stopped the words of anger from leaving my mouth.

Darry sat on the edge of his bed weary and slumped over like an old man. Sodapop knelt at his feet, helping Darry to remove his shoes and get ready for bed. My two brothers looked up at me with exhaustion on their faces. A lump formed in my throat halting my attack. I wiped the remaining tears from my eyes.

Darry spoke up, "Make sure you get to bed early. If you are called to the witness stand tomorrow you are going to want to be well rested."

I looked to Darry and softly spoke, "The attorneys are going to call Owen before they call me. The told me that at Ashford."

"But if they don't you'll want to be ready." Darry told me with a tone of annoyance.

"Why wouldn't they call Owen first?" I questioned in argument.

Darry sighed heavily. "After your little spat today, Owen's not exactly seen as an ally by the court right now."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snapped.

"Scout! Pay attention!" Darry snarled, "all those brains in your head and you can't see way the two of you fighting plays right into the defense attorney's lie?"

Sodapop rose to his feet and prepared himself to be the mediator if needed.

I furrowed my brow and my pent up frustration got the best of me. "Darry, you pay attention! We're not fighting anymore. He came here tonight to give you a job that will help bring Pony and me home and keep our family together. He told me he loved me, but you sent him away so I never got to tell him that I loved him too." Darry opened his mouth to speak, but I raised my voice to silence him. "You might be willing to live your life all alone, but I'm not! I need my family! I need my friends! I need to be with Ponyboy again, but even though Owen gave you a job to help bring us together, you don't want to see that happen. All you want is for me to be gone! I'll tell you what; if you ship me back to Ashford to stay until college, I promise you, I'll never come home again. I will be as dead to you then as if the Northside boys had killed me tonight. Think about that!" I yelled and then I stepped out of the room and slammed the door behind me.

My heart pounded in my chest. I wasn't proud that I had yelled at my brother, but the words were exactly how I felt. A few seconds later, I realized there was one other person who needed to know exactly how I felt and I planned to tell him immediately.

Knowing I had to move fast if I was to avoid getting caught leaving the house, I stormed over to the piano and pulled down a ceramic bowl that often held loose change. Inside, I found fifty-seven cents. That was more than enough for a round trip bus ride to the south side of town. I reached over and grabbed a hooded sweatshirt off of the back of a dining room chair then I unlocked the front door and slipped away from the house, unnoticed.

With a brisk pace I headed towards the bus stop by the steel warehouse. I wasn't sure of the time, so I had to guess by the level of twilight that surrounded me. I turned the corner and dumped my handful of change into the front pocket of my blue jeans. I zipped up the sweatshirt and noticed the sound of a car behind me. I sidestepped to my right and looked over my shoulder at the rusty car that pulled up beside me.

"Scout Curtis! Fancy seeing you back in the neighborhood. Rumor had it you were shipped away, never to return."

I looked through the passenger side window and smiled at Curly Sheppard who had pulled the car up to the curb. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and walked over to the car. I casually rested my forearms on the windowsill of the car door and smiled. "Well that remains to be seen Curly, but I think it's more of a miracle seeing you around the neighborhood than me."

The boys in the car laughed along with the driver. Curly asked, "Where you headed?"

"To the bus stop by the steel warehouse. It's nice seeing you, but I've got to get going or I may miss my bus."

"Hold up!" Curly called out, "Save your nickel. I'll give you a ride, jump in."

I smiled graciously. "I don't know. I am headed all the way to the south side of town. I'd hate to have you go that far out of your way."

"Hop in," Curly told me again.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yeah, a hot looking babe like you can ride in my car anytime." Curly replied and pushed on his friend with the hair lip, Lou, who was sitting in the passenger seat. "Where are your manners? Get in the backseat and make room for the lady."

The lanky boy opened the car door for me then he scrambled over the seatback landing in the backseat next to the Weston brothers. I looked up and down the street for my brothers. They were nowhere in sight so I climbed into the car, shut the door and much to Curly's dismay I stayed on my half of the car seat.

"Why are you headed to the south side of Tulsa?" Jon Weston asked.

"To see her quarterback boyfriend, no doubt," Jon's brother answered him.

"He's a running back," I said simply.

"Running back, quarterback, doesn't matter, he's still a Soc," Jon said with an air of arrogance.

I didn't address the stereotype, neither did Curly as he asked, "So how's your brother, Ponyboy doing?"

"Not bad," I said, "he's been at Barrington Boys Home ever since… you know."

"Yeah, I heard that," Curly said, "and I heard you went off to some fancy school for rich girls?"

"Yeah," I answered with a sigh, "but it's not like I fit in there."

"Yeah, right!" Jon yelled out in disbelief, "You seem to fit in with the Socs just fine."

"Maybe I should, but I don't," I told him.

"How long you have to stay there?" Lou leaned forward in his seat and asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Not much longer, if I have anything to say about it."

"You got anything to say about it?" Jim Weston asked from the backseat as he puffed away on his cigarette.

"No," I said and looked out the passenger window.

"What's the problem?" Curly asked as he turned onto the highway that would take us south.

I looked over at him and thought about Two-Bit's demand, an eye for an eye. I knew if I told Curly about what had happened he and his thug friends would probably drive right into the Northside territory and go looking for a fight. In turn, that would give the Northside boys a reason to come looking for me, or someone else just to even the score, so I chose my words wisely. "Just a little family feud."

"Yeah, I can kind of see that. From what Ponyboy always said your brother Darry is really harsh on you and him." Curly informed me.

I shrugged my shoulders. I wasn't sure if I wanted to change that perception or not. My silence led to one of the Weston brothers changing the subject to something about a kid they knew who lifted a car and got away with it. I listened in and enjoyed hearing a story that wasn't about me.

As darkness fell upon the city, Curly followed my directions on how to navigate the unknown streets on the south side of town. I noticed the houses becoming larger and the cars parked in the driveways becoming fancier. I looked over at Curly and thought about the rust-bucket of a car we were traveling in. Being in the upper class territory could be bad news for a greaser, so I directed Curly to pull over blocks away from Owen's gated neighborhood.

"Right here?" Curly asked as he pulled the car to the curb and looked at the more than modest house he was in front of.

"This will do, I'll walk the rest of the way."

"Too embarrassed to be seen with us." Jim Weston growled.

"No," I clarified, "I just need sometime alone."

"You sure it safe for your to walk around these neighborhoods alone? You know, you being a greaser and all." Curly asked with true concern.

"Quit worrying about her," Jim Weston barked, "she's the frickin' winter queen of the Socs. Crimeminey, you got that picture from the newspaper taped on your damn wall! Them Socs aint gonna skin one of their own!"

I ignored Jim's assessment of me, and smiled politely at Curly to put his mind at ease. "I'll be fine. It's only a few blocks."

"Okay, suit yourself," Curly said with a slightly red face from his friends embarrassing comment.

I opened the car door and climbed out. "Thanks for the lift. It was good to see you again."

"No problem," Curly replied and he pulled the car back onto the road and headed out of the area.

Once I started walking towards Owen's house I began to question whether it was a good idea to stop by. After all, it was getting late, and it only crossed my mind now that he might not even be home. Then, like a bad omen, lightning cracked across the sky followed by a window rattling blast of thunder. In a moment, tiny raindrops began to fall. I quickened my steps. A second flash of lightening cracked through the clouds followed by a long roll of thunder and an unexpected flood of thick and heavy raindrops.

I rolled my eyes in disbelief, and hoped this wasn't a bad omen. I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt up over my head, and began sprinting down the street. At once point, the rain was so thick I actually missed the turn to the narrow road that snaked though Owen's neighborhood. By the time I reached the top of Owen's driveway there wasn't an inch of me that wasn't soaked. I started up the driveway and noticed that none of the lights in the house appeared to be on. I wondered if my trip was in vain, but then I spotted Owen's car parked in front of one of the garage doors.

Inhaling deeply, I climbed the stone stairs that led to he large, wooden, ornate doorway at the front of his house. Standing under the portico the rain was off of me, but the water ran from my clothes making large puddles at my feet. I stepped forward, rang the door buzzer, and then stepped back to wait. In the seconds that passed, I practiced in my head how I would greet Mr. or Mrs. Jasper if they opened the door. I wasn't sure how to explain why I was soaking wet on their front porch, so I hoped they wouldn't ask.

With the rain pounding on the ground I wasn't able to hear any movement inside the house, so I stepped forward to ring the buzzer again, but before I did the porch lamps lit up above my head. I stepped back again, heard the door lock turn, and watched as the wooden door swung open. I looked up at the person in the doorway.

"Scout?" Owen asked as he casually rested one hand on the knob of the door, "What are you doing here?"

It was an interesting question; because somehow I wasn't sure why I had even chose to come. I figured I would rush right over and Owen would welcome me with open arms, but instead I found him with the same aloof attitude he had in the courtroom. Confused, I searched my brain for another reason why I had come. "I… I wanted a chance to say thank you."

"Thank you, for what?"

"Thank you, for offering Darry that job. It means a lot to everyone, and I know you didn't have to do it."

"Like I said, I offered Darry the job because he's exactly the kind of guy we were looking for." Owen paused, stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his khaki pants, and stepped out onto the porch in his socks. He questioned, "Is there anything else?"

I looked down at the puddles I was leaving on the stone floor, nodded my head and looked back into the boy's eyes. "Yes…. Yes there is. I want you to know how sorry I am for all the trouble I've caused, and I want you to know, I love you too."

Owen pulled his strong hands out of the pockets of his pants. In one quick motion, he reached towards me, grabbed two fists full of my soaking wet sweatshirt from my chest, and pulled me towards him. He leaned in close and passionately kissed my lips. My knees nearly buckled with euphoria as my warm lips kissed his.

The boy finished with his kiss, exhaled in relief and told me, "you have no idea how hard it was for me today to be so mad at you and so in love with you at the same time."

"Pete told me you were pretty good at being stubborn," I said softly.

"Did he?" Owen said with a smirk.

"Yeah, and I'm glad he did because it almost tore me to pieces to see how badly I had hurt you." I shivered with cold.

Owen took notice of my chill. He let go of my wet sweatshirt, and ran his warm hands up and down the sides of my arms. "You must be freezing. Come on inside so we can dry you off." He pulled on my sweatshirt and I followed him into the warm home. Once inside the foyer, I watched Owen reach behind me and lock the front door, then I looked around and noticed how empty the home seemed to be. "Are your parents home?"

"No," Owen answered, "they left this morning with Oliva for their annual spring trip to Pocono Pennsylvania."

I furrowed my brow. "You have to testify in court this week and they left you behind to go on vacation?"

Owen flashed half a smile. "My lawyer is with me, so to them it's no big deal."

I shook my head in disappointment and shivered again.

"Scout, look what you did to yourself. You are soaked to the bone. We need to get you into some dry clothes or you'll surely catch pneumonia." Following his words, Owen stepped close to me and unzipped my sweatshirt. It had been so long since we had the opportunity to be so close and alone that our lust for one another amplified with every warm breath. As Owen pulled my soaking wet sweatshirt off of my shoulders he leaned in and kissed me again. I kissed him back and stepped out of my wet shoes. Then I pulled away from him for a moment to pull off my wet socks.

Owen took my hand in his and walked backwards towards the grand, walnut stairway inside his foyer. "Let's go find you something dry to put on."

I couldn't help but grin as I gazed into his blue eyes and allowed him to pull me along.

At the bottom of the stairway, Owen was still walking backwards as he lifted his foot to climb the stair and tripped. He fell backwards onto the steps with his hand in mine. Immediately, I lost my footing and tumbled onto his chest. Owen exhaled from the impact then the two of us laughed out loud.

"Nice tackle," Owen laughed.

"I didn't tackle you," I said in amusement, "you fumbled."

"I rarely fumble," Owen said with a grin and a well-timed kiss. When he was satisfied he stood up and pulled me to my feet. With my hand in his we climbed the remaining eight stairs to the large landing that housed an ornate stained glass window.

As the outdoor lights shown through, I noticed how wet I had made Owen's polo shirt as a result of our tumble. "Looks like I'm not the only one needing dry clothes."

The boy looked down at his damp shirt and looked back at me. "I guess you're right." Then he dropped my hand, pulled his shirt off over his head, and tossed it over the railing.

I gawked. The action caught me by surprise, and it was the first time I had ever seen Owen without his shirt on.

Owen reached over with his index finger and pushed upward on my chin to close my hanging jaw. He stepped towards me and with a warm breath in my ear he slowly searched for the bottom edge of my wet t-shirt. When he found it he slowly lifted it over my head. I allowed his advances towards me as I tried to contain the rush of emotions that surged through my body and yearned his affection. He then wrapped his long arms around my small frame and I felt the warm touch of his skin on mine. Owen held me close and whispered in my ear. "Are you warming up?"

All I could do was wonder what his intentions were, and mutter his name in question, "Owen?"

"It's okay, I'll take care of you." He softly said then he kissed my lips and ran his hands down my back to the back of my thighs. In a swift motion, he lifted me up. I continued to kiss his lips as I wrapped my legs around his waist and he carried me up the stairs and down the hall into his bedroom.

Gently, he lowered me onto his bed and I let my legs go loose. The two of us didn't speak and the sound of the heavy raindrops pounding on the window muffled our breath. Owen stood by the side of the bed, unsnapped my jeans and pulled down the zipper. Caringly, he pulled at the pants to remove them from my cold legs. He tossed them onto the floor, and laid his affectionate body on top of mine. We exchanged kisses as his hand rubbed my cool thigh.

I ran my fingers through his thick blond hair and rubbed my legs against his. Owen moved his lips to my neck. I let out a heavy sigh of satisfaction and raised my hip to rub against his. Owen then shifted his weight to the arm that had been warming my leg and with his newly free hand he ran his touch up my torso and gathered my covered breast in his hand. He squeezed the flesh firmly. I let out a small moan of approval as a large crack of lightning lit the room. Seconds later, the thunder rolled across the sky as Owen returned to my lips with a kiss.

As the lightning cracked again I heard a voice calling out in the distance. The thunder crashed again. I turned my head away from Owen's affections to question him. "Did you hear something?"

Owen lifted his head to listen, and then we both heard the voice call out, "Owen?"

Knowing someone was inside the house, Owen pushed himself off of the bed and turned to his dresser drawers.

"Who is it?" I asked as I sat up.

"Owen?" The boy's voice called again and we could tell he was coming to the second floor.

"It's Pete." Owen told me.

"How did he get in?"

"He knows where we hide the key."

"O!" Pete called out again. We knew he was coming down the hall to Owen's room.

My boyfriend yanked a long sleeve red rugby shirt from the dresser drawer and threw it my way. "Here, put this on." Then he darted for the bedroom door, slipped out, and pulled the door shut behind him.

I quickly pulled the shirt over my head and tip toed to the doorway to hear what was being said.

Pete responded to a question. "You said you'd call when you got back from seeing Darry. When you didn't, I started to wonder what was up."

"Oh yeah, sorry…um…I forgot," Owen replied.

"What's going on?" Pete asked with suspicion in his tone.

"Nothing. I was just getting ready for bed."

Pete must have sensed Owen wasn't being truthful as his loudly whispered he next question, "Don't tell me you've got a girl in there? O, what are you doing?"

"Nothing that you need to worry about," Owen spoke softly.

"Owen! Please tell me there isn't a girl in your room. I know how upset you are, but this isn't right. You know you love her. You two just need to forgive each other."

I stood on the other side of the door and knew it would be best to put Pete's mind at ease. As the lightning lit up the sky I grabbed my wet jeans and as the thunder rolled I opened the door. I slipped out into the hall and noticed Pete's eyes grow wide and his jaw drop open a little. "Hi, Pete."

A dirty little grin spread across Pete's face as he realized the troubles in his world were quickly mending themselves. "Scout, how nice to see you."

"It's good to see you too." I said in a friendly voice, and slightly lifted the wet jeans for Pete to see. "I got caught in the rain coming here and I needed to get out of these wet clothes before I shivered to death."

"I bet," Pete said with playful doubt.

I stepped past Owen, looked at him and pointed down the hallway to the stairs. "I'm just going to run these down to the laundry room and throw them in the dryer for a spell."

"Okay, it's just off the kitchen." Owen said as he folded his strong arms across his naked chest with a smile.

I hustled down the hall and steps to the landing to gather my wet t-shirt before Pete could notice I didn't have it in my hand originally. Next, I let my curiosity get the best of me as I wondered what the two boys were talking about. I tip toed back up the steps, pressed my back against the wall, and listened in to the conversation.

"… he could start the job when Casey comes running into the house screaming, 'Scout's in trouble, these thugs got her and they won't let her go.' Then she tells Sodapop they've got switchblades."

"What?" Pete questioned in disbelief.

"I couldn't believe it either, so I ran out of the room and followed Two-Bit out the front door and there they were. This greaser kid was holding onto Scout, and he had his hand covering her mouth so she wouldn't scream or nothing and when I saw that it was like a switch went off. Instantly, I wasn't mad at her anymore, no matter what she had done or why didn't matter. All I wanted was to have her back."

"What did they want with her?"

"They were friends of James. They threatened her and told her to side with James in court or they were coming back to take care of her."

"What? Did you beat the tar out of the kid?"

"Nah uh. Two-Bit held me off. That guy may seem like a goofball, but he can be real serious and scary when he has to be. He pretty much threatened to kill the kid. You should have been there, Pete. It was insane. The thugs had knives, Sodapop had a switchblade and Two-Bit walked right up to the kid holding Scout and damn near slit the kid's throat."

"Was there a fight?"

"Not with the guys from the gang. They took Two-Bit's suggestion, let Scout go and got the hell out of there. I don't think they'll be back, but Darry does. It's odd to see, but he is really spooked about the whole thing. He told Scout that it isn't safe for her anymore in Tulsa. He said she's going back to Ashford and he's not letting her come back."

"What?"

Owen's voice grew softer, "I don't know what I am going to do. He's sending her back to Ashford for good. For forever."

"What?" Pete asked in shock.

"Everything is such a mess. I don't know what to do. I just want everything to be like it was."

"Whoa," Pete said with a sigh, "I don't know, O."

"Come on, I want to go be sure Scout doesn't need any help."

Hearing that I knew I was sure to get caught eavesdropping. I hustled down the steps as quietly and quickly as I could. Once I was on the main floor, I was lost in the darkness and couldn't seem to find the light switches to guide me through the rooms. I picked up my wet socks from the foyer. A few seconds later, Owen and Peter were walking towards me.

"I couldn't find the light switches," I said.

The boys didn't question the accuracy of my statement. Owen reached into the dining room pushed in the light switch. He rested his hand on the small of my back and guided me along the path to the laundry room, which had been recently set up in an old kitchen pantry. Owen took my wet clothes from me and put them into the dryer, and then he grabbed a clean polo shirt off the stack of folded laundry and pulled the shirt over his head.

"Owen told me about what happened at your house tonight," Pete told me as he leaned against the doorway frame to the laundry room.

"Yeah, things didn't go to well," I said sadly.

"Do you think Darry will really make you stay at Ashford?" Pete asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Darry doesn't usually hesitate on his decisions."