Author's Note: I really appreciate that all of you are reading and reviewing and favoriting and all of that! Thank you so much and I really hope you're enjoying!
Tim did, in fact, find out that they had been working together on a project and insisted they work at her house that next day. Bridgette told Pony in math very tentatively what Tim had said and Pony surprised her by laughing and agreeing.
"I knew it wouldn't be long," he shrugged.
"Right," she said bitterly. "Well, I get home around five-thirty usually. So you can come over around then."
"Okay," he agreed. "See you then."
Bridgette could barely focus during soccer. She kept imagining all the ways Tim and Curly could and would embarrass her. They would be overprotective and overbearing and probably give Pony a hard time for no reason. Pony was just now warming up to her. She didn't think she could take it if her brothers ruined it for her.
She rushed her shower and practically ran home. She would be damned if Pony got there before her and had to be alone with her brothers. They would interrogate him like it was a date and that was humiliating.
"That was quick," Frankie noted, checking the clock as she came barging into the house.
"You can set up right here," Tim said, pointing to the kitchen table.
"And where will you be?" Frankie smirked.
"Right there," Tim said, pointing to the other side of the table.
"It's math," Bridgette agonized. "It's not a big deal."
"I'm just here to make sure it doesn't turn into a big deal."
"What do you think is going to happen?" she fumed. "He'll be so impressed by my math skills that he feels the need to kiss me?"
"I don't think it's your math skills that is impressing any of them fellas at school," Frankie winked.
"What does that mean?" she asked blankly.
"He doesn't know what he means," Tim snapped. Bridgette could tell Frankie had crossed some line even though she didn't understand it because of the way Frankie cowered under Tim's glare.
Pony knocked on their front door at that moment. Bridgette went to answer it but Tim gave her a look and shook his head. Bridgette plopped down at the kitchen table in defeat and silently pouted.
"Hey, Tim," Pony greeted.
"Pony," Tim nodded curtly. "Come on in."
Pony walked in and spotted Bridgette sitting dejectedly at the table. Then he looked around at Frankie and Curly.
"Frankie," he said. "Curly."
"How's it going?" Curly asked.
"Good. Busy with school. Track should be starting soon."
"You're pretty fast, huh Pony?" Frankie asked.
"Pretty fast," he confirmed with a grin.
"Are you hungry?" Bridgette asked politely.
"That's not necessary," Tim cut in quickly. "He's here for math, right?"
Bridgette wanted to crawl into a ball and die. She knew he was going to embarrass her but that didn't make it any easier.
"Right," Pony nodded. "Besides, I ate before I came over. Darry says math is best accomplished on a full stomach."
"Smart guy," Tim praised. "So, let's get to it. Math."
As he promised, Tim sat at the table with them the whole time. Bridgette knew for a fact this wasn't interesting to listen to and she also knew that Tim didn't understand a word. Yet he sat there diligently.
Needless to say, they only worked for a total of forty minutes before Pony said he had to get going. The entire time Bridgette kept trying to get his attention to discreetly apologize for how awkward the situation was but Tim never gave her the chance. Pony asked to use the restroom before he left.
"I'm going to be gone tomorrow," Tim said. "Curly and Frankie, I need you guys to be here to oversee their next session."
"Can't," Curly said. "I've got that thing in Mountford. I told you about that a long time ago."
"Frankie?" Tim asked.
"I have to help Curly. You know he can't do that alone."
"What are you guys doing?" Bridgette asked.
"What about Tony?" Tim asked, blatantly ignoring her.
"He's away with Mandy," Curly said.
"Then she can't meet him tomorrow," Tim reasoned.
"Actually," Bridgette said through clenched teeth, "I have to. It's for school and it's important."
"No one can chaperone," Tim pointed out.
"I don't need a chaperone for a math project," she cried.
"She could just go to his house again," Curly shrugged. Tim shot him a look but Curly didn't scare as easily as Frankie. "The guys will be there. They did it yesterday and I checked in on them. It was just as boring as it was today."
"Okay," Tim finally agreed hesitantly. "But you have an hour there only. You must be back by six."
"I don't normally get home from practice until five-thirty," she sighed.
"Is this true?" Tim asked Curly. Bridgette was a little wounded that he didn't believe her but she was mostly wounded her own brother didn't know when she got home.
"Yeah," Curly confirmed.
"Fine. Six-thirty," Tim said stiffly.
Pony walked back into the room and everyone looked at him.
"Thanks for letting us work here today," he said, as if they weren't forced to work there.
"Sure," Frankie smiled.
"None of us are going to be around tomorrow," Curly began and Tim scowled, "so you'll have to meet at your place tomorrow."
"That's fine," Pony shrugged. "Darry's going to want to check our progress anyway."
Tim nodded his approval.
"Thanks again," Pony said to the room at large. Then he turned to Bridgette and said, "See you tomorrow."
He left and Bridgette rounded on Tim. She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot.
"What?" he asked.
"Did that really warrant all the dramatics?" she asked.
"Probably," he shrugged.
"Probably not," she countered.
"You'll understand someday," he said. She rolled her eyes and stormed to her room.
She lifted her foot in preparation to launch herself onto the bed in frustration when she saw something sitting on her bed that she hadn't left there. She ended up wobbling onto her bed with the built up momentum and straightened up. She pulled the container over to her and opened it. A huge smile spread across her face and she felt butterflies in her stomach.
Pony had left packaged pasta and bread on the bed for her. She assumed it was what Darry had cooked for them that night and Pony brought some over for her. She didn't know if it was Pony's idea or if Darry suggested it but she didn't care. It was a really sweet gesture and she appreciated it so much.
She happily finished eating her food in the comfort of her room.
"I am so sorry," Bridgette urged as soon as Pony sat down in front of her in math.
"For what?" he asked suspiciously.
"What do you mean, for what?" she grinned. "For how awkward it was yesterday!"
"Was it awkward?" he asked. She didn't know if he was joking or not. She decided to avoid that topic and move on to a different one.
"Thanks for the food," she said slowly.
"Of course," he shrugged. "No sweat."
"It was nice of you," she continued.
"Don't worry about it," he smiled. "I'm glad you liked it." He scratched his nose and watched her as she pulled out her notebook. "You meeting the guys for lunch again?"
"No," she said. "They're all doing their own things today. But it's fine. I have to meet with Mr. Midland, anyway."
"I've been meaning to talk to you about that," Pony said slowly.
"What?" she groaned.
"I just…I find it kind of weird how much attention he shows you," he said. "It's not normal."
"We just have a lot in common," she sighed. "It's not a big deal. He just wants to make sure I keep up with my studies and hear about soccer."
"Why doesn't he check in with the other girls on the team?" he asked.
"I don't know," she said impatiently. "But who cares? What harm is coming out of it? We meet on school property and talk about school things. Nothing too scandalous."
"You only talk about school things?" he asked skeptically.
"Yes," she rolled her eyes.
"Promise?"
"Yes."
"Will you tell me if you ever asks you anything personal?"
"Probably not."
"What? Why?"
"Because it's our chats. If we talk about something other than school then it's my business. Now, if he ever gets inappropriate, you will be the first to know."
"I don't appreciate the sarcasm."
"Look, Pony, he is the only person in years—and I mean years—to be kind to me. I know he's older than me and I know he works here at the school, but I consider him a friend. He cares about my life and how I'm doing. He doesn't hit me if I come home with anything less than an A like my mom and he doesn't hover around all the time, preventing me from making real friends like Tim. And, while we're talking about it, he includes me, unlike anyone else has done in, well, my entire life. He makes me feel important and worth listening to. He's my first real friend—maybe my only real friend—and I know how pathetic that is, but I don't care. So please stop worrying about me."
Pony stared at her with a long calculating look. He wouldn't show any emotions and she knew that. Greasers were veterans at hiding emotions. His eyes bore into hers and his jaw was tense. He didn't move. Then, slowly, he relaxed his posture, nodded once, and turned around in his seat.
Bridgette stared at the back of his head dubiously. She poured out her soul to him and he was just going to turn around without saying a word? She didn't know if she wanted to cry or punch him. She was leaning towards punching him.
Instead she shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.
In his defense, that was a pretty emotional outburst for a normal day in math. She didn't mean to tell him all of those things but she couldn't say she regretted it. It was true. No one bothered to get to know her. Greasers or Socs alike avoided her, not giving her so much as a sideways glance. Her own brothers didn't include her. No one did. Pony was coming around only because they had a class together and, now, they had a mandatory project to work on together. If she hadn't been in class with him, she knew she probably never would have gotten to know him. He would have graduated and then gone on to college or got a job.
James was the only person to not only care about her, but converse with her like she was a human being. Her brothers treated her like a kid who needed constant supervision and protection. Her parents treated her like a trophy. The other people in town didn't have the decency to notice her at all.
So, yes, she was friends with a member of the faculty. And, no, she didn't care.
The bell rang for lunch and she gathered her things in a huff, prepared to be mad at Pony for possibly forever. Not that it would be a huge blow to his life or anything.
"Bridgette, can I ask you something?" Pony asked, shoving his things into his bag to keep up with her.
"Fine," she snapped.
"Don't you consider us friends?"
"What do you mean?"
She pushed past some freshman in her temper.
"Well," he said slowly, "you said he might be your only real friend. Don't you consider us friends?"
"I don't know," she answered honestly, her tone still on the angry side even though she didn't mean for it to be. "We've known each other for years and you haven't so much as looked at me."
"That's not true," he insisted.
"Oh, no?" she asked sarcastically.
"No," he said firmly. "It was complicated."
"Complicated?" she repeated.
"Yes," he said. "And I would explain it if I could. Or if I had the time. It's, well…"
"Complicated?" she supplied for him.
"Yeah," he sighed heavily. "I think you're really cool and I'm sorry I took so long to figure that out."
"Thanks," she mumbled, set on being mad even though her heart fluttered.
"I will explain it sometime if you really want me to," he offered.
"I do want you to," she challenged.
"Okay," he agreed. "Maybe tonight while we work on the project."
"I don't want the guys to overhear it," she shook her head. "My life is an embarrassment and a spectacle as it is."
"That is not true," he argued.
"It is," she said simply and cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Parts of it might be," he agreed after a moment's hesitation. "But it doesn't matter, anyway. Soda and Steve are going to the rodeo, Two-Bit has a date, and Darry is working late."
"Whoa," Bridgette said slowly. "It'll just be us?"
"Yeah," he said. "And before you freak out about Tim and Curly, just remember that they are out of town and will have no idea. Seriously, as long as we both keep our mouths shut, it won't be an issue. Besides, it's math. Not a big deal."
"I seriously can't," she said, stopping in the middle of the hallway. The people that had been walking behind her made annoyed sounds and made a show of walking around her. "I don't think you understand. Tim will find out and he will kill me. He'll kill both of us. And I don't mean that figuratively. I mean he will literally stab you in the face."
"As pretty of a picture that is that you just painted me, I think we'll be okay. Like I said, the only way he'll find out is if one of us talks."
"Or if he talks to Darry or Soda or anyone else in the gang," she said impatiently.
"He doesn't care if Steve or Two-Bit are at the house. He only cares about Soda and Darry. They know better than to tell Tim we were home alone together. Believe it or not, they actually dig me and don't want me to die at the hands of your brother."
"I don't think you're understanding," she frowned. "Tim always finds out."
"Tim always finds out because his gang can't keep secrets. Think about it, where does Tim get his information about you? Curly, Tony, and Frankie. They're all gone. You'll be fine."
"But—"
"No, stop. It'll be fine. Just meet me at my place like we planned. Trust me."
She watched as he walked away and she once again had the overwhelming urge to punch him. She stormed to James Midland's office and plopped down in the seat.
"You're late," he observed, checking the clock above the door.
"I know. I'm sorry," she sighed. "Had a disagreement with my math partner."
"Is everything okay?" James asked.
"Fine," she muttered. She pulled out her lunch and took a bite of her sandwich.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"How is the math project coming along?"
"Pretty good," she shrugged. "We divided the information and we have a good understanding of it all. Now we just have to work on how we're going to present it to the class."
"Sounds like you got it all figured out," he smiled proudly. She returned his smile timidly.
"Are you going to be at tryouts in two weeks?" she asked.
"Wouldn't miss it. But honestly, if the coach had any sense, he would just put you into every position."
She blushed and smiled appreciatively.
"If it were up to coach, I would," she said shyly.
"Have you thought about pursuing soccer after high school?"
"Oh, I rely on it," she admitted. "The only way I'm getting into college is if I get an academic or soccer scholarship. And, now, if it's up to my mom, a music scholarship."
"I don't think a scholarship will be a problem," he laughed. "You've got a lot going for you."
"Thank you," she smiled. "I sure do work hard for it, though."
"Yeah, I've heard your family is kind of hard on you when it comes to that stuff."
"Who did you hear that from?"
"Word gets around," he said evasively.
"They just want me to make something of myself," she explained.
"I see," James said and studied her. She fidgeted under his look and looked around. "But at what expense?"
"What do you mean?" she mumbled.
"What are giving up in order to achieve that?"
"Nothing," she said immediately.
"Really?"
"Yes," she said defensively. "Really."
"Okay," he allowed, holding his hands in surrender at her bitter tone. She knew that he was only saying that to appease her and it bothered her. She wasn't giving anything up to achieve all of her success. Was she?
James proved to be a master of changing the subject and started to ask her about soccer teams that had played matches recently on TV. Bridgette didn't have a lot of time for TV during the school year, but when she could get away with some TV time, she loved watching soccer games.
Bridgette felt validated in her friendship with James when she walked out of his office. She went in there feeling annoyed and worried and came out smiling.
As much as James helped to distract her, worry crept back into her mind throughout her other classes. Ponyboy was smart—one of the smartest people in the school in her opinion—but there was one thing he didn't seem to understand. Tim always found out. She didn't know how. She really didn't. She would agree that Curly, Frankie, and Tony played a large role in Tim's knowledge about her whereabouts and habits, but that wasn't his only resource. And as much as Darry and Soda lied for her, she was positive Tim would still find out.
And it wouldn't be pretty.
She seriously considered avoiding the whole thing. She figured one day without working on the project wouldn't kill them. They were both smart and capable and didn't necessarily have to meet that day. She would feel bad standing Pony up without an explanation, but avoiding conflict with Tim was well worth it.
But as she took her shower after practice and pulled clean clothes on, she knew she didn't have it in her to completely stand him up. Especially not when Pony knew she was peeved at him. Would he read too much into it? Would he assume she was a lot angrier than she really was? She had yearned for that damn boy for most of her life and he was finally coming around. She couldn't just leave him hanging. No, instead she would go to his house, stand at a respectable distance from him as he answered the door, and tell him they would just have to meet the next day.
So that was settled.
Bridgette marched to his house with purpose. She knocked on his door and, as planned, stood on the first step of his front porch, a solid six feet away from the door.
"You made it," Pony said, not even trying to hide his surprise to find her there.
"Yeah," she said in confusion. "I was supposed to, right?"
She would have been mortified if she gave Pony a long speech about having to meet at another time if he had already agreed to it without her realizing it.
"Yes, I just thought, you know…you might not show," he shrugged.
"Why?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously.
"Tim," he said simply.
Bridgette couldn't quite explain the way she felt at that moment. On one hand, she was embarrassed because that was precisely what she had planned to do only an hour ago. Was she really that predictable? On the other hand, she was plain old pissed. Is that what everyone thought of her? Did everyone in town see her as Tim's little pet? She followed his orders blindly and never did anything he wouldn't approve of, it was true. But for reasons she couldn't explain, she was furious by the whole thing. It was all true, of course. Tim ruled over her with an iron fist. She was scared of him—her own brother. She had no reason to be embarrassed or angry because it was true, and yet she was. Maybe because the town had her pegged perfectly. Maybe it was because it wasn't a very flattering reputation to have: a coward with no mind of her own. She hated it. She despised it. She wanted to spit on it and stamp it into the ground.
"He doesn't own me," she said defiantly. Throwing caution to the wind, she stormed past Pony, practically shoving him into the wall.
Of course, she was all talk because the moment she was inside the house and saw just how empty it really was, her heart started to race and her hands began to sweat. She shouldn't be here. She should leave. The town could say whatever they wanted about her just so long as she could get out of that house and go back to being the perfect little girl everyone claimed she was. She was scared of Tim, yes, but she also respected him. She had been taking orders from him her entire life and she knew that, deep down, he really was doing it because he cared. How could she disobey him like this?
Bridgette turned around to storm right back out of the house, not caring for a moment how insane it would look to Pony. She froze, though, when she saw the look on his face. The door was still wide open, making it only too easy for her to flee back to safety, but Pony was staring at her with unadulterated respect.
Respect.
It didn't make sense to her. Respect? Why would defying her big brother earn Pony's respect? What about the situation would make Pony look at her that way, like she was doing something heroic? Pony had brothers of his own and she knew for a fact he disobeyed them all the time, maybe even on a daily basis. It wasn't a big deal.
Of course, he wasn't related to Tim and Curly Shepard, and he wasn't a caged animal in his own home.
"What?" she finally asked, surprised to find her voice breathless, like she had just run a marathon.
"Nothing," he said quickly.
"What?" she insisted. She was only staying because his look had startled her into staying. She wasn't about to stay longer and risk Tim finding out she was there for Pony to remain silent.
"I…" he began. He managed to close his mouth and lower his eyebrows. "I guess I didn't know you had it in you."
"Had what in me?" she challenged.
"I know this is hard for you," Pony began cautiously. "I know that you love your brothers and trust them. And I know you're here against your better judgment. But I have to admit I'm flattered."
"Flattered?" she repeated. "Why?"
"Well, flattered that you trust me," he finished, shrugging slightly as if he wished he had more to say on the matter.
"Trust you?"
"Yes," he said uncertainly. "Trust me when I say that no one will find out. Especially Tim. I'm glad you trust me. I don't get the impression you trust a lot of people."
"I don't," she snapped. She wanted to tell him all of the ways he was wrong about her. She wanted to tell him the truth about why she was there.
But she couldn't bring herself to do it. He looked so…touched and shocked and, as wrong as he really was, she didn't have it in her to embarrass him and tell him the truth. She had been embarrassed enough times in her life to know that she never wished that upon anyone. Besides, if it came down to it, Bridgette did trust Pony. Perhaps not in the way he felt she did, but she did trust him. She had watched his from afar for many years and knew his character better than most people did. He was a genuinely good guy with good intentions. And while she still believed Tim would find out somehow, she believed that Pony believed Tim never would. And she also knew that Pony would do everything in his power to ensure Tim was never the wiser. She did appreciate it.
"Thank you," he said quietly. She nodded stiffly and went over to the coffee table. She set down her things and then plopped onto the floor.
"I am doing this against my better judgment," she confirmed. "And I am actually terrified. So I would really appreciate it if we could do this quickly today."
"That's doable," Pony agreed. He rushed over to her side and sat down. "Baby steps."
"Baby steps for what?" she asked.
He ignored her. She was used to this tactic from her brothers and their gang but it didn't annoy her any less. Why did everyone keep things from her? Why couldn't they just tell her what they meant? She hated it when people around her talked in riddles, like they were all in on some big secret that she wasn't allowed to know. It drove her crazy. And now it looked like Pony was in on this big secret, also. Maybe the whole town was in on it. Or maybe she was making a mountain out of a mole hill but she was still very much being left out of something and it aggravated her to no end.
"Whatever," she grumbled. "Let's get this over with."
"Are you mad?" he asked.
Bridgette ignored him, relishing in the feeling of being in control for once. Let's see how he liked it.
There really wasn't much left to do on the project. It took them all of ten minutes to go over their portion of the assignment. They agreed to meet the next day just to practice their speeches. Bridgette started to gather her things, relieved that she met with Pony but also relieved she would get out of there quickly. The less time she spent there, the better.
"How was your meeting with Mr. Midland?" Pony asked nonchalantly.
"Very nice," she said.
He waited for her to say something else but she was adamant about giving him as little information as everyone gave her.
"That's good," he finally said. She slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way towards the front door. "Bridgette, wait."
Pony gently grabbed her wrist and she froze. She mentally berated herself as her heart started to beat faster. She had to remind herself that she was mad at him. But having the guy you've liked for ten years touch you would make anyone go a bit funny. His hands were strong but surprisingly soft. She thought about Tim and Curly whose hands were always callused and rough. They worked with their hands, like most of the greaser boys. Curly and Tim worked with illegal car parts they had been stolen, Tony laid cement, Frankie loaded and unloaded cars, Darry laid roof, and Soda and Steve worked with cars. Pony was different. He was still in school, for one, and therefore didn't have a job at all. But he wasn't meant to work with his hands. Pony was smart. He could go to college and get a job sitting behind a desk where his hands would remain soft forever.
It took Bridgette a moment to snap back to reality and she realized Pony was waiting for a response to a question she hadn't heard.
"Sorry?" she asked, embarrassed that her voice sounded dreamy.
"I asked you if we could talk for a little bit," he repeated.
She looked out the front door apprehensively. She knew that people came in and out of the Curtis house all the time. The longer she stayed, the more likely someone would pop in for food and catch her there, alone with a boy. She knew that Pony's gang was too smart to go blabbing to Tim, but everyone else in town didn't have the same decency. If they caught her there, they would go running to tell Tim. It was risky.
"It shouldn't take long," Pony said quickly, as if reading her mind. "We can even go to the back of the house where people passing by can't see us."
It made sense logically. That was the reason she was hesitant about staying, being seen. But she had already betrayed her brother and she felt that going into a back room with a boy, alone, even if it really was to talk, was too much.
"We can stay in here," she said slowly. She looked out the window and slowly moved to the far couch. It was the first place anyone would look if they came into the house, but it was the only place in the room not visible from the windows. Pony sat a chair that was as far away from her as possible.
"I wanted to apologize," he said carefully. "I know that I offended you earlier and I never meant to do that."
"Okay," she said simply, not sure what else there was to say. He smirked at her response and shook his head.
"You said something earlier that really got to me," he said.
"What was that?"
"You said that we had known each other for years and I hadn't so much as looked at you," he repeated. She looked at him expectantly. Earlier he claimed that he had seen her but it was complicated. She was ready to call him out on his bullshit. She had been watching him for so long that she would have noticed if he watched her back. All she wanted was for him to notice her. She wasn't stupid and she wasn't naïve. She called things like they were and Pony had most certainly not given her the time of day.
"I noticed you," he said firmly. "Everyone noticed you."
Again, she wasn't exactly appeased. She figured she should modify her definition of being noticed. Everyone obviously noticed her. She was the kid sister to Tim and Curly Shepard. She was the town's "golden child" that had skipped a few grades and was a soccer star. She wasn't allowed to go out without a chaperone even though she was sixteen years old. Most people in town started hanging out on their own well before puberty. She was the spectacle. So, yeah, people noticed her, just not in the way she wanted.
"Lovely," she mumbled.
"Everyone noticed, they were just too scared to approach you," he said.
Now Bridgette had very little patience left and she openly scowled at him. So at first she was the town joke, but not she was the town leper? That was rich.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Pony asked blankly.
"I'm sorry," she said sarcastically, stumbling over her words. "Am I supposed to be delighted that people are scared of me?"
"We are not scared of you," Pony rolled his eyes. "We are scared to approach you."
"Just because Tim is—"
"Tim is part of it," Pony interrupted me. "But not all of it."
"What are you talking about?" she glared.
"Bridgette," Pony sighed. "You're the town mystery girl. You're this big enigma. Everyone sees you around but no one knows almost anything about you. You're this elusive being that everyone wants to figure out but doesn't know how to do it."
"You all could just talk to me," she deadpanned.
"Talk to you?" Pony asked in confusion, as if such an idea had never occurred to him.
"Yes," Bridgette said through clenched teeth. "Talk to me. I spent the better part of my life believing no one wanted to be my friend. Hence why I do not have any friends. Well, aside from James—er, Mr. Midland. He's my friend. And, yeah, he's a member of the staff and has to be nice to me, unlike all the rest of you buttholes, but he doesn't have to be my friend. He made that choice by himself. Do you know how hard it is to not have any friends? Of course you don't. You've always had friends. Hurrah for you."
"Whoa," Pony said, holding his hands up as a sort of shield. "You had friends."
"Did I?" Bridgette asked, her voice now dripping with sarcasm. "If only I could go back in time and tell the younger version of me that she can come out of her room because she's had friends all along."
"You had to have friends," Pony said, his confidence wavering.
"No," she said firmly. "I didn't. Not even my own brothers' gang. It wasn't until this year that Curly let me hang out with them at all. And that's only if Tim isn't around. I grew up pretty lonely, okay? But it's okay because I'm used to it and I know how to handle it. And pretty soon I'll be away at college where no one knows me. I don't have to be the Shepard sister or the town joke. So thank you for this uplifting chat but I really should be going."
"Bridgette, wait," Pony pleaded. "Let me explain. I know I did a lousy job so far but let me explain. This is important."
"Fine," she huffed. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the ground.
Pony took a deep breath and ran his hands through his beautiful hair. It really was some tuff hair. Bridgette hadn't noticed earlier in her frustration and annoyance, but Pony must have taken a shower when he got home from school. As his hair dried, the lighter it became. The sunlight danced on his hair and made it look more red than light brown in the moment. It was ungreased which was something Bridgette hardly ever had the pleasure of seeing. It was long and without the grease in his hair, it made it look even lighter. It was beautiful.
"Like I said earlier, you're a mystery to all of us. You're this unattainable girl that's too pretty and too innocent for your own good," Pony said.
Bridgette looked up at him in surprise. Her stomach twisted into knots and she couldn't seem to close her mouth. Too pretty? Ponyboy thought she was pretty? As in, Ponyboy Curtis thought that she, Bridgette Shepard, was pretty? The boy she had been in love with ten years—the boy she was sure hated her or didn't care about her at all—thought she was pretty?
"Don't you ever wonder why Tim is so protective of you?" Pony asked.
"I, uh, I mean…" Bridgette stammered. There were a million things running through her head. She actually had an answer for him but she couldn't form a sentence to save her life. She was still reeling from finding out he thought she was pretty.
"He wants something better for you, sure," Pony conceded. She nodded slowly. That was what she was going to say. "Anyone in this town wants something better for the ones they love. Of course, you're different than most of us." She shook her head now. "You are. You're easily the smartest person in town, but you're also the smartest person in school. I mean, you skipped a grade and skipped two grades in math. That's unheard of in this school. You really are smart."
"I work really hard," she finally spluttered. She would love to let Pony believe she was naturally that smart and school came easy to her. And, yeah, most of it did come pretty easily to her if she was going to be honest, but she still worked harder than anyone she knew. She didn't have friends to distract her from homework or studying. Sometimes she would read all of the English books in a week strictly out of boredom. She decided it was best to leave that part out.
"You're also a soccer star," he smiled. "You're the best person on the team and everyone knows it. Also the most aggressive, but still the best." Bridgette reluctantly shrugged. There was no point in denying it. She really was quite good.
"What does this have to do with anything?" she asked quietly.
"Tim treats you like you're better than the rest of us because you are better than the rest of us," Pony said. Bridgette opened her mouth to adamantly discredit that statement but Pony cut her off. "It's not a bad thing. We all know it and we all accept it. It's fine. But that's why Tim is so protective. He doesn't want you mingling with the scum of this town. And, I hate to admit it, but there is a lot of scum in this town."
Bridgette made to protest again. Pony and his gang were top notch guys. They were hard working and they stayed out of trouble for the most part. They were loyal to the greasers and never passed on a rumble, but they were good guys. Of course, it took Bridgette all of two seconds to remember that Pony and his gang were the exception and not the rule. Even looking at her own brothers she had to admit some people in town were technically better than others. She loved her brothers to pieces but they were hoods. They really were. They behaved themselves somewhat in front of her, but she had heard enough stories to know the truth.
"You're going to be something great," Pony shrugged. "Tim doesn't want something to interfere with that."
"By not letting me have friends?" she asked.
"You can have friends," Pony smirked. "Nice Christian girls that wear their skirts to their ankles and never swear."
"Please," Bridgette scoffed.
"I mean it. He doesn't want you around the guys in town. Like I said, you're really pretty. You could have your pick of boys in town and that is the last thing Tim wants. He does not want you to end up with one of us."
"I am one of you all," she said, trying to hide her blush at being called pretty a second time by Ponyboy.
"Not if he can help it," he laughed.
"But I am," she insisted. "I can do great things and still be a greaser. Those things are not mutually exclusive."
Pony looked at her in surprise and then softly said, "No, I guess they're not."
"So am I not allowed to have friends or a social life because he doesn't want me to end up like other girls in town?" she asked. "Everyone keeps telling me how smart I am. Don't they think I would be able to avoid those situations? Because I am smart and I know how to keep out of trouble."
"Well, that's the other part of it," Pony shrugged. "You're also too innocent."
"What does that even mean?"
"It means you're too innocent," he said unhelpfully. She gave him a look and he furrowed his brow in concentration. "You don't get out much. And Tim has sheltered you from every bad thing this town has to offer. I'm not saying this to be mean or condescending, I'm saying this from an envious standpoint: You don't really know everything that's out there. There's a lot of shit that we have to deal with. I know you're not immune to it. I know you've seen your fair share of shit. But Tim is doing a pretty god job of keeping you away from most of it. I know it must suck sometimes to feel left out, but he really is looking out for you. His methods may be unorthodox and his demeanor may be mean, but he really is trying to help."
"Like what?"
"What?" Pony asked in confusion.
"Like what's out there that Tim is protecting me from?" she asked.
"Oh, no," Pony shook his head. "I'm not going to be the one to corrupt you. Tim really would kill me."
"Come on," Bridgette urged. "I hate being left out. I want to know what's out there. Please."
"Honestly, I can't," Pony insisted. "Maybe in a few years."
"A few years?" Bridgette repeated indignantly. "A few years? Pony, I'm sixteen. I'm not a kid. Everyone treats me like a kid but I'm not and I'm getting damn fed up with it all. Maybe I should teach everyone a lesson and head over to Buck's. I have no idea what actually happens there but since no one will tell me I might as well find out."
She grabbed her bag and stood up as if she was actually going to march right over to Buck's right then and there. She was all talk. She wanted Pony to believe she would do it, but she would never in a million years do it. Coming over to Pony's without a chaperone was enough to give her a heart attack and Tim had never specifically banned her from the Curtis house. Bridgette had been told explicitly multiple times that she was to never set foot anywhere near Buck's house. She would sooner run around town naked than go to Buck's. Pony didn't need to know that, though.
"Glory, Bridgette," Pony cried, grabbing her wrist firmly. "You're going to get me killed. You are."
Bridgette sat back down on the couch and looked at him expectantly.
"He is protecting you," Pony began through gritted teeth, "from everything that this town can do to you."
"Like," she prodded.
"Do you want me to give you a list?" he asked sarcastically. She held his gaze and refused to look away. "Well, alcohol for one. Too many people in this town are alcoholics. Even the Socs have a problem with it. People drink to forget or they drink to be something that they're not. It can be a great thing, don't get me wrong. But it can also ruin people. So there's one thing he's protecting you from."
"What are the others?" she asked curiously.
"Most of these you already know about," he sighed. Again, she just looked at him. "Like you already knew about the alcohol thing." She shrugged and nodded.
"I'm sheltered, not stupid," she said.
"You're the one who wanted a list," he defended.
"I do," she insisted. "Keep going."
He grumbled for a moment and she kept her mouth shut.
"The next step is drugs, probably," he said. "Like, I know you already know about drugs. You probably know more about the different types of drugs and what they do better than most of us. I'm sure you've read books on them." He looked at her and she nodded. "But I take it you've never seen their effects in person?"
"Correct."
"It all depends on the drug," he said. "And the person. But it can be a great thing or a really awful thing. People hallucinate and start making out or they start scratching their skin until they bleed or they start fighting. Some people overdose. Some people let the drugs consume them, giving everything else up for another fix. It's one thing to read about it, but it's a whole other thing to see it in person."
"Do you do drugs?" she asked apprehensively.
"Do I look like I do drugs?" Pony asked.
"I don't know. I've never seen anyone take drugs, remember?"
"No," he emphasized. "I do not do drugs. No one in my gang really does. Not our thing. Plus, we've seen what it can do and we don't want to get near it. Besides, Darry would skin me alive."
"Probably," she agreed.
"Yeah," Pony grinned. He cleared his throat and continued. "I think the most obvious and the most plausible issue Tim is trying to protect you from is pregnancy."
Bridgette immediately felt her face grow hot and she lost all of her resolve to hold his gaze. She looked at her hands and then out the window. All she could see was a band of blue sky and the porch roof.
"Tim isn't stupid, either," Pony continued as if she hadn't just turned into a human tomato. "He knows that he has a pretty kid sister on his hands. And he knows, now more than ever, that guys are taking notice."
"Why, um, why now more than ever?" she muttered.
"You said it yourself. You're sixteen," Pony smirked. "You're not a kid anymore. Like I said earlier, people do notice you. They notice you all the time. And it drives Tim crazy."
"No."
"Yes," Pony rolled his eyes. "Forgive me, but I do know more about this particular subject than you do."
"That doesn't make sense," she argued. "No one has ever shown interest in me."
"Yeah," Pony said pointedly. "Exactly."
"What?"
"It's self preservation," he said. "Everyone is scared of Tim, at least when it comes to you. No one is going to mess with Tim when you're involved. I mean, there are guys out there that could take Tim if they really wanted to, but they know better because Tim isn't rational when it comes to you. No one really knows what he's capable of and no one wants to find out."
Bridgette stared at the ground in bewilderment. She wanted to believe what Pony was saying. She never felt the need to be desirable to anyone but she certainly didn't mind the sound of it. And, more than anything, she really just wanted Pony to realize she could be desirable. And it sounded like he was telling her now that lots of people found her pretty, including himself. It was all she had ever really wanted so she didn't understand why she was having such a hard time believing him.
"Just because no one has approached you doesn't mean no one wanted to," Pony said a lot more gently. "And it's not that people didn't want to be your friend or get to know you, it's just always a fine line with Tim. I guess none of us ever really thought about what it must be like for you. We all just assumed you were, I don't know…happy."
"I wouldn't say I'm unhappy," she frowned. "Just lonely."
"For the record, I'm glad I had the chance to get to know you."
Bridgette couldn't stop herself in time from openly scowling at him. She returned her face back to normal within a millisecond but Pony had seen.
"What?" he asked. "What was that look for?"
"Nothing."
"Tell me."
"Ponyboy," she sighed and shook her head. For a moment she seriously considered telling him everything that was on her mind. She considered informing him that she had never stopped liking him and she had admired him from afar for all these years and it was always him and if anyone could have her, it would be him. But she didn't see the point in saying it all. Pony just said himself that it didn't matter if boys liked her, it would never work because of Tim. So why should she open herself to rejection and ridicule again for no outcome? She wouldn't do it.
"Thank you for explaining all of that to me," she said stiffly. "It was very illuminating. Unfortunately, it doesn't really change anything. But I do appreciate it. Thank you."
"Bridgette," he said. "Come on…"
"Tim should be back tomorrow so we'll have to meet at my house," she said formally. "It shouldn't take us long to practice our speeches. I'll see you in math."
"Bridgette," Pony said more firmly. He reached out to grab her hand but this time she stepped out of his reach and rushed out of the door.
She maintained her composure until she made it back to her own house. She had no idea who was out and who would report back to Tim. She hadn't seen anyone of significance on her way home but she never knew. She was ready to resign herself to her room and dwell on everything Pony had just told her, but she didn't get the chance. Her mom was home and she was waiting for Bridgette in the entryway to the house.
"Where have you been?" she barked.
"I had to work on a math project due on Friday," Bridgette explained.
"A math project?" her mom asked skeptically.
"Yes," Bridgette said impatiently. "It's for calculus. I have to present the derivative function to the class."
"Why couldn't you work on it here?" she asked.
"It's a partner project," Bridgette admitted. "I had to meet with my partner."
"Who is your partner?"
"Ponyboy Curtis," Bridgette said.
"That boy is in calculus?" she scoffed.
"He's actually really smart," Bridgette said quietly.
"You got partnered with one of our kind?" her mom asked as if scandalized. "That school is not setting you up for success. You should be partnered with students as smart as you. He's only going to drag you down."
"He's not," Bridgette shook her head. "He's really smart. We make a good team."
Before Bridgette could process what was happening, her mom drew her arm across her body and slapped Bridgette clear across the face with the back of her hand. Bridgette stumbled at the impact and blinked a few times to get rid of the small black dots popping in her vision. She gingerly placed her hand on her swelling cheek and stared at her mom in surprise. She could usually predict when her mom would hit her. It usually followed a B.
"You do not make a good team with anyone in this town, do you understand me? You're better than that," she hissed.
"Mom," Bridgette said in surprise. "It's a math project."
"I don't care!" she cried shrilly. "You will not team up with anyone in this town. You're changing partners."
"I can't," Bridgette shook her head. "It's due Friday. It's already mostly done."
"Excuse me?" her mom asked. "You can and you will. Do you understand me? You're going to go into school tomorrow and talk to your teacher first thing. He'll change it. And if you have any problems, talk to your counselor."
Bridgette stared at her mom in confusion and disappointment. She wanted Bridgette to stop being Pony's partner because he was a greaser? Why was everyone treating her like she was better than everyone else? She was a greaser, too. People could act like she was different all they wanted but she was a greaser. And she never considered that a bad thing.
Bridgette went to her room, her hand still cupping her stinging cheek.
Now what the hell was she supposed to do? She could go into school the next day and insist she needed a new partner but what would that solve? Nothing. It would only add to her problems. Did her mom honestly expect her to work with a Soc? It was impossible. It would never work. And she would be damned if she put herself through that torture and humiliation for a partner that wasn't even as capable as Ponyboy. Bridgette wasn't lying when she said he was smart. He was very smart. But not getting a new partner meant she would have to openly disobey her mother.
Her mother wasn't around enough to check in on her to know if she really did change partners. It would only be too easy for Bridgette to create a long winded lie about how she changed partners and she was now with a girl named Susie who ironed her socks. It would delight her mother. Bridgette could then continue to be Pony's partner while her mother was none the wiser.
However, Tim was around enough to check in with her. Tim disobeyed their parents more than any kid ever could. He took the family car for a joyride when he was only twelve and then ran away instead of accepting his punishment. By the time Tim returned, their parents had all but forgotten what they wanted to beat him for. That goes to show how long he was gone. He wasn't the poster boy for obeying his parents. But Bridgette had no way of knowing if he would support her in this lie, especially since she had never actually lied to her parents before. She had never really lied to anyone before, at least not about anything important. It didn't help that Tim didn't like the idea of them being alone, even if they were only talking about math. But Bridgette knew Tim and she knew that Tim would rather her be with a greaser boy than to be with any Soc. He had spies among the greasers. He would lose track of her completely if she went into Soc territory and he knew better than anyone that a Soc would never come into their territory. Most students could do their work on campus so that no one was ever really alone, but that wasn't an option for Bridgette. Soccer practice was during the time she would be able to work on projects. The school closed by the time she was done with practice. She knew how to get back into it, of course, but that was worse than going to someone's house.
Bridgette vowed to talk to Tim as soon as possible. In the meantime, she would find a way to appease everyone. Somehow.