"We got a few choices, Nell." Ponyboy says as he pulls into the driveway. There's already a line of cars wrapping around the lot, and I snuggle into the passenger seat, picking up the blanket that Ponyboy brought and draping it over my lap. He smiles at me briefly before listing off the movies, "Valley of the Dolls, The Great Race, War of the Worlds."
I look at him quickly, a wide smile spreading over my lips, "War of the Worlds?"
"Yeah," he says. "I told you they got re-runs this weekend."
"'Few people realize the immensity of vacancy in which the dust of the material universe swims,'" I say, lifting my eyebrows at him in some excitement.
"We got an H.G. Wells fan," he whistles impressed, "A girl after my own heart."
I blush and turn away to look out the window, hoping the blush is hidden in the darkness. Ponyboy picks a spot in the lot that is in the middle, just far enough from the screen, but still close enough to enjoy the action without straining to see. I move to open my car door to grab the speaker, but Ponyboy is quicker, hopping out of the truck and settling the speaker onto the window with ease. He leans against the passenger door and smiles at me.
"Alright," he says, "what's the damage?"
"What do you mean?" I ask, leaning a little closer to him. From this angle I can make out the grey flecks of color in his eyes.
"I was late for dinner," he says with a phony sigh. "What do I gotta do to make it up?
"Starbursts and popcorn," I say, and he grins, "Oh and a coke!" He mocks me by pretending he's writing down a list and I playfully slap his hands, "I'll just come with you."
He opens the car door for me with a slight eyeroll and helps me down from the truck with a grin. Casually, he keeps my hand in his and starts to walk towards the concession stand without a word. I feel the blush warm my cheeks once more, but this time I don't try to hide it. Instead, I give his hand a slight squeeze and follow him eagerly towards the concession stand, a small skip in my step.
The concession stand is crowded, mostly with people from our high school. A few people send us strange glances, a few others greet us with a grin, but it's the deathly cold stare of Angela Shepard that makes me question ever holding Ponyboy's hand again. She is standing with Annette and a few other Greaser girls that I know hang around the Shepard boys towards the front of the line. Despite her glare, I find it so difficult to look away from her. So difficult to admit that maybe I've unintentionally hurt her.
Ponyboy doesn't seem to notice. He's too engrossed in a conversation with a few other boys from our school, they're laughing about their track coach. Angel says something to her friends and by the looks of everyone, except for Annette, I know it isn't something kind. I look down quickly, suddenly incredibly aware of myself in this crowd, ashamed and embarrassed without even really understanding why.
"You guys know Nellie?" Ponyboy asks, bringing me into the conversation and away from the daggers being thrown by Angel and her friends.
"You probably know me as Penny," I tell them. It's always easy to know how long I've known someone based on what name they used, If I grew up with them, I was Nellie. If I met them during junior high, I was Penny. "We had a couple classes together the past three years at school," I continue and they nod in recognition.
"Yeah, you've saved my ass a few times with homework," one of them chuckles and I feel a fake smile spread across my lips. The boys mingle a little more as the line moves slowly to the front. I glance behind me and find that even though Angel and her friends have bought their snacks, they aren't leaving the concession area. It seems like they're waiting for me. I drop Ponyboy's hand suddenly, crossing my arms over my chest like a shield.
Ponyboy glances at me strangely but doesn't say anything in front of his friends. They talk for a little more and as the lines begin to clear out, Angel's voice becomes clear in the quieting crowd.
"A slut," Angel's voice carries harsh and loud, so loud in fact that a few of Ponyboy's friends turn around while they're walking up to order their snacks from the cashier. I feel my face flame in embarrassment, wrapping my arms around myself even tighter than before. "She never even liked him until I was interested," Angel continues, and this time Ponyboy looks over me.
I remember my brother used to describe Ponyboy as oblivious when we were younger, but that didn't seem to be the case now, because when his eyes meet Angel's and he hears the jeers and snickers of her friends, Ponyboy gently takes me by the shoulders and moves me so that he is between us. His back working as an active shield as his hands rub my arms quickly in comfort before he untwists my arms from around myself and takes my hand in his once more.
"What's her problem?" He mutter, as Angel's voice get a little louder.
I shrug my shoulders, unsure of where my voice fled. I never liked conflict or confrontation, that was always Two-Bit's specialty, and most people left me alone because of my brother, but it was different when it came to Angela Shepard. My brother had a reputation, but Tim Shepard's was meaner. She could get away with whatever she wanted.
"I don't even know what he sees in her," she continues, "such a waste."
"Come on," Annette finally says, "we're gonna miss our movie."
Angela shares a few choice words, spitting them like venom and I finally turn around. She's standing in the middle of her friend group. A sharp smile on her face when our eyes finally meet again. She shows me a very expressive finger before turning on her toes and heading back out of the concession area. I swallow the small lump forming in my throat as Ponyboy leads me over to the cashier to order our snacks. He squeezes my hand before letting it go and leans against the counter.
"Starbursts, a large popcorn, and two coca-colas, please," he says as the cashier busies themselves to grab our snacks. "You want anything else? Ice cream? Hershey Bar? Razzles? My treat." I feel a small smile begin to lift on my lips when I shake my head no.
"Angela's got a real way with words, huh?" He says as the cashier begins to ring us up. Ponyboy hands the candy and one of the colas over to me before picking up the popcorn and his drink. I follow him back to the car, wondering what he could possibly be thinking, "Why is she so mad at you? You two seemed okay at the party."
Ponyboy balances his soda on the roof of his truck before opening the door for me and settling the popcorn in my lap. He hurries around to his side of the car just as the opening credits begin to play.
"I thought she was just using you to make Bryon jealous," I finally say, handing him the popcorn to spread the blanket across our laps. Ponyboy scoots across the bench seat so that our arms are just barely touching as he places the popcorn gently back onto my lap, "Maybe she actually really liked you."
"Well, I'll be honest," he says, looking me straight in my eyes, "I've never really liked her. She's kind of scary, like she might beat me up."
"She probably could," I agree with a light laugh, feeling a little better as Ponyboy picks out two red starbursts out of the pack for me, leaving himself with two yellows. I trade a yellow with a red from him and he smiles, leaning back into his seat. "I've seen her take Curly down plenty of times."
"Doesn't take much to do that," Ponyboy whispers as the movie begins, "I wouldn't let her get to you. She'll find someone new – she always does."
I nod, finally settling into my own seat to try and enjoy the movie. Why I had allowed Angela Shepard to spoil my evening was beyond me. It was clear that Ponyboy wasn't fazed by her antics. In fact, he was already so focused on the movie that he didn't seem to notice how carefully I was studying him. Sodapop had always been known as the handsome Curtis brother, but Ponyboy grew up to be equally (or even more) handsome. He has a strong jawline like Darry, but the rest of him seemed soft. There was such a dreamy, kindness to him. A certain warmth that neither of his brothers have.
"You gonna watch the movie?" He asks, finally looking over at me with a smile. I nod, slightly embarrassed and settle into my seat. For a moment our arms are touching briefly, but Ponyboy shifts so that his arm is comfortably draped over my shoulders, pulling me towards him, so that I'm leaning more against him that the back of my seat.
A million thoughts explode in my brain, and I can't focus on the movie. I am too focused on the way his chest moves with each breath, the way it changes when something exciting happens on the screen. How he mutters to himself during the tense scenes to convince the character to make a better choice. How his hand mindlessly rubs my shoulder, during any moment that a character's fate is questionable. I imagine how it would feel to kiss him. This time knowing how gentle he would be. How his hands might caress my face. How his breath might tickly my skin. How safe I would feel just being with him.
"What time you gotta be home?" Ponyboy asks throwing away the popcorn bucket and cola cups.
"Midnight," I say, leaning into the light of the movie trailers to check my watch. It was only ten-thirty. I still had time before my mother would expect me home. I look up to see Ponyboy checking his own watch before our eyes meet, and he lifts his eyebrows at me.
"I know a place we can go," he tells me as he hops in his truck.
The vacant lot in our neighborhood stopped being a vacant lot about three years ago. On the anniversary of Johnny Cade's death, the families of the kids they saved from the church, donated enough money to build a park in his name. I remember the day Cade Park opened. Ponyboy was expected to speak at the ribbon cutting ceremony, instead Darry spoke on his behalf. Ponyboy just cut the ribbon and played with the kids. I hadn't been back since.
The Cade Park sign seemed to standout in the cool moonlight, and I felt my breath catch just a bit as Ponyboy led me over to a patch of grass, spreading the blanket over the damp grass and sitting down. I sit next to him and listen to the light rustle of the leaves in the trees the pathway that lead to the playground in the middle of the park. It was hard to imagine the old vacant lot the boys used to play football in or where the girls and I played house with cardboard boxes. The park was well maintained by the families in the neighborhood too. The loss of Johnny Cade has affected more than just Ponyboy, my brother, and the rest of their gang.
"You come here a lot?" I ask him as I settle into the spot on the blanket, buttoning up my sweater to keep in the warmth.
"Occasionally, but only at night," he says before laying back on the blanket, "It's still the best place to watch the stars." He lifts himself up just to gently grab me by my shoulders and lay me down next to him. I rest my head on his arm and look up at the brilliant summer night sky.
The sky is a cloudless wonder with brilliant small white stars scattered across its midnight blue abyss. The cicadas hum in the distance and for the first time, in a long time, I am stunned into silence. Tulsa is everything I wanted to leave, too small of a city for the dreams I have, but I couldn't imagine the stars looking quite the same in some random neighborhood park anywhere else.
"What are you thinking about?" I finally ask, breaking the rhythmic songs of the cicadas.
"Honestly?" He asks and I nod, "I think mostly about Johnny and Dally – sometimes Sodapop, the way he was, sometimes my parents."
"I didn't know them that well," I admit glancing at him to gauge his reaction, "of course I knew about Dally's reputation, but I never saw either of them often."
Ponyboy chuckles, "Hard to not know Dally by his temper." He signs and looks at me, shifting to his side so that we're face to face, "I just like to imagine them – somewhere."
"Take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine." I whisper, my voice blending with the quiet hums of the cicadas.
"What's that from?" He whispers and I lift my eyebrows in surprise.
"Ponyboy Curtis," I teasingly scold, "you can't tell me you haven't read Romeo and Juliet?"
"Once," he laughs, "in our freshman year English class."
"You didn't like it?" I ask and he shakes his head.
"Maybe I just didn't understand it then," he admits, and we let the songs of the cicadas engulf the silence once more. That was how I felt about most of the books I brought home. I could remember the words, the moments that stood out to me, but sometimes it was hard to understand the meaning, if you didn't have a personal experience to support you. I think carefully on Ponyboy's words, before turning back over to meet once more with the stars.
A/N: Tomorrow is my last day of Spring Break. My goal is to post a chapter every Sunday from here on out. I hope you enjoy. Reviews are always appreciated.
