AN: Here's the next chapter! I don't own this event in 'That Was Then, This Is Now' I also don't own 'The Outsiders' or Mark, Terry, Angela, and Bryon. They belong to S.E. Hinton. Reviews are welcome!
Answers to reviews:
To Swan Potter: Thanks you! I honestly don't remember saying that Tiffany was going to stay. But I've explained that here, so I hope you like it! And I'm sorry, I felt like I couldn't focus on Parizona right now, so I had too.
To FlyActing and Moomimad: Thanks so much! And, like I said, I feel like I couldn't foucus on them so I had too.
Saturday could never come as fast as it did that week. I spend a few hours prepping with Pami, it turns out we have a lot more in common than I thought. Pami in some ways reminded me of Tiffany. Except Tiffany always had to leave because she couldn't stand time eras that weren't the 21st century. We finally left in my mustang, roof down and playing Phantom of the Opera. Pami's in a pair of blue jeans, yellow shirt, high heels and some dark mauve lipstick, and I left in my usual black jeans, blue tie-front top, black converse and Russian red lipstick.
The music is loud. Too loud. I feel like my ears are going to pop off. Pami can take the volume, but I can't. I walk outside into the parking lot where the music isn't as loud. I spot Terry Jones' car parked in the weirdest angle like he was drunk when he parked it. He's passed out on the front seat. I shake my head. 'Drunk. Very normal.' I walk over to my parked car to grab a Dr. Pepper. I notice Mark, Williamson, and Ponyboy sitting on the hood of Terry's car. I walk past them without a glance and shoot Williamson a smile after he whistles at me.
"Hey!" Mark waves me over. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the ex-girlfriend. What up Carina?"
"Fine." I reply casually. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Angela walking up to a random guy that she knows and talking with him. 'That can't be good.' I think to myself. 'I sense a fight . . .'
"So you'd you feel about Angela?" Williamson asks me.
"Angela Shep?" I ask. "What do you mean?"
"Guys we don't have to ask her that." Pony tells them.
"Hey!" a call comes from behind us. I turn to see the guy Angela was talking to advancing towards us. "What do you think you're doing?" he asks. We glance at each other. Soon the kid goes crazy and I mean crazy. He starts on Pony and calls him a bunch of names I probably shouldn't repeat. I just tune him out until he says, "You crazy little-" and takes a swing at Ponyboy. Before any of us know it, they're going at it. I do nothing. After all, I really don't have a right. The kid starts cussing like a madman and pick up a beer bottle in the grass and comes at him with it.
Mark gets up and steps between them. "Hey, come on man, fight fair."
The kid looks at him like he's crazy and a quick as lightning, cracks the bottle on the side of Mark's head, hard too. On impulse, I tackle the guy before he can do any more damage. Angela screams. "What's wrong with you?" he asks me as I slug him with a few punches.
"No. What's wrong with you?" I snark back. "Are you on meth or somehin'?"
"Hey! Hey! Hey!" I see the cop running at us. He grabs me harshly by the arms and pulls me off the guy. Big mistake on his part. The unknown kid gets back up lunges for me. I try to twist out of the officer's grasp but the kid strikes me in the stomach. By time I do get out, he's already landed a few punches to my abdomen and face.
Fueled by a new rage, I go off to finish the guy. Bam! Punch to the nose. Bam! Kick in the groin. He winces and doubles over. The cop's got him now and I stand back panting. A crowd's gathered and there's no doubt in my mind that they've seen the whole thing. I hear murmurs among them. "Arizona . . . Christine . . . greaser . . . violent . . . unladylike . . . Ponyboy . . . broke-up . . .'
I toss my head defiantly and watch as Bryon forces himself through the crowd and kneels beside Mark. I walk up to them, and stand a distance away.
"Mark?" he says and takes the end of his shirt to wipe the blood off Mark's face. I can see that Mark's unconscious. I jog to my car and open the trunk. I open the cooler and find some cloth that I had left who-knows-when. I dunk it into the melting ice, wring it out and grab the first-aid kit.
"Here," I say, thrusting the fabric at Bryon.
"Thanks," he replies, taking it and proceeds to continue trying to clean the wound. "Is that the guy who did this?" he asks, staring at the kid, who was now in handcuffs.
"Yeah," Pony says.
Bryon looks at the kid and says, "Buddy boy, you are dead. You had better make up your mind to that. When I get through to you, you are going to be dead." The kid just looks away. "Why's he beat up so bad?" he asks me.
I feel my face flush. "I did most of the damage." I say, looking down at my nails.
"You?" he asks in disbelief. "A girl?"
"Yeah." I snap. "I did that!" A little bit of hate bubbled up inside me. 'Men,' I think scornfully. 'Never think a woman can defend herself.'
"He meant to get me," Pony says. "If that makes any difference."
"If he's gotten you, he'd be doing me a favor." Bryon snaps. Pony gives him a wry grin. "What happened?"
Pony explains the whole thing, but I just tune it out. I pull out my compact mirror and examine myself. There is isn't much damage, just a bruise on my temple and a few cuts, a gash or two. "Hey, you okay?" Pony asks, putting a hand on my shoulder.
"Huh?" I ask. "Yeah, I guess." It finally registers in my mind that his hand is on my shoulder. He must have realized it too, and removes his hand.
"You sure?" he asks, wiping some blood off my face.
"Sure." I reply.
"Do you know Angela Shephard?" Bryon asks.
"No. I know her brothers pretty well, but I've never been around her much." Pony replies.
"I kinda know her." I say. "She's only spoken to me . . . a lot. Strange . . . I wonder why?" I furrow my eyebrows.
"Probably because you listen." Bryon says. "If ya don't, then she'll leave you alone."
I nod. "Is he going to be okay?" I ask.
"Seems like it." he replies. He looks at me. "You a doctor or something?"
I shrug. "I know too much about the medical field then I should." It's true. I asked about my parents to Aunt Alice and she said that they married at a very young age and when I was born my dad kicked my mom out of the house. Oh, my dad died in jail a year ago. So my mom never really died. Aunt Alice says she's a doctor.
"Can you look at his head?" Bryon asks. "He keeps bleeding and . . ."
"Okay." I reply. The poor guy looks like he's gonna cry. I put on some latex gloves and ask, "Can we move him to my car? I have some stuff there."
"Sure. Curtis, you mind?" Bryon asks. Ponyboy nods and helps Bryon move Mark to my car.
"Elevate the head." I order. I clean the wound, and examine if there are any pieces of glass stuck in the skin. There's a few, so I take the tweezers and pull them out, then clean the wound again. "Looks like he'll need stitches." I say with a tsk.
"Can you do them?" Bryon asks.
"Um . . . I'm not experienced." I say. "Do you want me to try?"
"If it'll save him." Bryon says. I take a deep breath and nod. I thread the needle and start. I feel pebbles of sweat going down my face as I sew the skin. I try to do them as precise, close and gentle as possible. When I finish, I rip a strip off an old shirt in my trunk and wrap it around his head.
"What did Angela have to do with this?" Pony asks.
"I'll tell you later." Bryon says as Mark moves a little and groans. "Mark," Bryon says softly. "Listen! Don't move, just lie still. We're gonna get you to the hospital." Mark's eyes open. The pupils are so large that you can't really see his iris. "What's wrong with him?" Bryon asks worriedly.
"Shock," Pony and I say at the same time. Pony takes off his jacket and puts it over Mark. I look for the ambulance worriedly. It'd better show up soon or he could die.
When the ambulance finally arrives, Bryon speaks to a few doctors then points at me.
One of the nurses walk up to me. "How did you do the stitches on that kid's head?"
"I just did." I reply simply. "He asked me too."
"You did a real good job." she praises me. "Even the doctors can't really do it that close. Are you a professional or something?"
"No." I reply. "I'm a greaser."
"Really?" she asks. "Well, thank you. You might have just lowered the risk of anything happening that kid."
"You're welcome." I reply softly as she jogs off. I feel a wave of nausea and lean against my car.
"Hey Arizona!" Pami comes up to me excitedly. "You don't have to drive me! I'm going home with Taylor!"
I smile weakly. Taylor has been her biggest crush for the longest time. "Great!" I say. "See you Monday?"
"Monday!" she confirms, squealing and running off to join Taylor.
I try to smile, but end up wincing instead. I feel something oozing down my face and touch it gingerly. My fingertips come back tinged with my blood. Quickly, I tear another strip of cloth and dip it in water. I clean the blood off and apply some antibacterial stuff on it.
"Are you okay?" Pony asks me.
"Yeah, pretty sure." I reply.
Pony lifts my chin and examines my face. "The guy didn't hurt you too badly, did he?"
"No." I sigh tiredly. I get into my car and try to turn on the ignition.
Pony puts a hand on my shoulder. "I don't think you should drive."
"Why?" I ask, fighting to keep my eyes open. "I'm fine. Just tired."
"That's the point," Pony explains. "You might fall asleep on the wheel and something might happen to you." I stare at him in bewilderment. "I could drive?" he offers.
"Fine." I say with a yawn. I get out and crawl into the passenger side.
"Keys?" Pony holds his hand out. I drop my keys into them and close my eyes. I feel him kiss my forehead. "Don't worry, Ari, okay?" Pony whispers. "I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."