Her Red Dress

by Blossoms444213

With graduation only a few months away, Ponyboy Curtis is closer than ever to being able to taste freedom from Darry and the gang, but is that what he really wants? After attending a party, Pony stumbles upon something he wasn't meant to, and now he is not only haunted by a man who wants his blood, but by the guilt of lying to his family.

Back when I was fourteen I always wished that I'd be given more freedom. It seemed like no matter what I did, someone would constantly be there to babysit and lecture me. I was sick of it, and couldn't wait until I was eighteen and could get out of my house and into college.

Nothing could have prepared me for the shock of freedom, though, and as graduation approached way too quickly for my liking, I realized that maybe I wasn't as prepared for a life without the gang as I thought that I was.

Sometimes I wish they were still constantly watching over me too, because maybe if they were I wouldn't get myself into these sorts of situations.

Thursday, March 7th, 1969.

Bitterness coursed through my body as I walked down the street in the direction of my house, my hands clasping my jacket closed tightly in an attempt to keep warm. Although it was slowly starting to warm up with spring being right around the corner, it was a colder day, only here to remind everyone that it wasn't quite time to greet the warm weather. I was kicking myself for not bringing something warmer than my pathetic jean jacket, but in my defence, Two-Bit had promised me that he'd drive me home, which he obviously didn't.

Although having finally graduated high school, even if it was just so that he wouldn't have to graduate the same year as me, and having also gotten a proper job working at a grocery store, Two-Bit continues to lack any form of intelligence or responsibility.

The least he could have done was given me a heads up that he wouldn't be able to pick me up after school, and then I might've been able to arrange another way to get home, but he didn't, and now I've resorted to walking ten minutes in this temperature on top of the ten minutes I waited for him in the parking lot.

I have to give him some sort of credit though, because even if he still seems like the same careless high school junior from four years ago, he's actually matured a little. He's serious about the job he's got down at the grocery store, and he's told me that he's considering going into sales sometime in his future. Even though he still lives at home with his mom and his little sister, he's happy, and actually does his part in cleaning up the house, but that could just be a rumour.

While I'm talking about maturing, Two-Bit wasn't the only one who grew up. Steve Randle, who continues to be my brother's best friend, also graduated, which leaves me to be the only one of us left in high school. Steve's doing pretty good for himself. Although still working at the DX station, he's also taking a few college classes. Apparently he plans on putting his talents with cars to use and is moving onto something bigger than the DX. Even if he's still as insufferable as he's always been, I'm proud of him. I always kind of had this feeling he'd move on to something better.

I can't say Sodapop's grown up quite yet, but he's on the track to it. He hasn't lost that charm he's always had, and he manages to still be high on life almost constantly, which I kind of envy. Maybe it's because he doesn't have to worry about exams. Soda's still working at the DX station, and he shows no indication of wanting a change. If it makes him happy, then I see no problem, even if I wished he'd do what Steve's doing and try doing something better.

That incident with Sandy back when I was a freshman messed him up pretty badly though, because since then he's dated scarcely. It's like he's afraid to commit to a girl, so most of the ones he gets with, he'll drop almost instantly. It was only just this year he finally started to seem like he's willing to give love another chance, so I just hope he'll find someone who'll treat him well, he deserves that much.

Darry is the one who's definitely came the furthest of us all. He got a hang of being a brother as well as being a guardian pretty quickly after that first year of our non-stop fighting. Soda's whole lecture to us that one night really got to him I guess. He loosened up a little, not getting on my back constantly over stuff, and giving me more freedom than I was used to. We weren't perfect, the inevitable arguments always building up, but I'd take it over what we were like before.

Now that I'm a senior in high school, and nearly eighteen, Darry's given me so much freedom I almost don't know what to do with it. I can go out whenever, hang out with whoever, come home as late as I'd like– so long as I give him a heads up that is, and basically just live my life.

I'm enjoying it, of course, but it almost feels wrong for him to be so carefree. I think it's got something to do with him signing up to go take a few college classes like Steve is. He's almost always in a good mood because of it actually.

I think since the loss of Dallas and Johnny, we've all been pretty screwed up, but I think we're all finally crawling out of the grief pit we dug ourselves, and are getting better. Even I, the boy who convinced himself that my friends weren't dead, have managed to move on. I don't even get nightmares anymore. I'll always miss them, but I know they would be proud of the five of us for continuing to live our lives.

Another gust of wind blew through the street and my hair flew around wildly as I tucked my chin into my chest to shield my face from the coldness of its wrath. I felt another wave of annoyance towards Two-Bit rush through my body before I felt the raindrop which landed directly on the top of my head. Groaning loudly, I picked up the pace and speed-walked towards my house, the raindrops going from a few to a full on downpour. Grease which I'd put in that morning dripped down my cheeks and was washed away completely with the storm.

It was just my luck to get caught up in a rainstorm like this, with no jacket might I add. Darry usually warned me about things like this, telling me to bring a jacket whenever there was frost on the windows, or ensuring I definitely had a ride home if there was even the slightest chance of snow or rainfalls.

Nowadays, I could go to school in a t-shirt during a blizzard and I doubt he'd even bat an eye. I almost miss his old, protective ways.

After what felt like miles, though was realistically a ten minute walk, maybe less with the power walking, my house came into sight and I'd never been so relieved. I skipped up the stairs and barged through our front door, leaving a pool of water where I stood in the living room. I untied my Converse and kicked them to the side before throwing my jacket onto our coat rack recklessly and making my way to the bathroom.

I took one look at my reflection and cursed under my breath, before digging around the drawer to find a comb. Combing my hair doesn't do much for it, because it's still soaked and has completely lost any volume it may have had, but at least it might not dry knotty. As for my shirt, the jacket did nothing to protect it from the savage rains, so it's completely drenched. I dragged my feet in the direction of mine and Soda's room and dug through the closet until I came upon a clean shirt and threw the wet one to the ground before changing into they dry one.

Soda and I still shared a room for the sole reason I couldn't be bothered enough to move back into my previous room. I didn't get nightmares anymore so we really didn't need to keep sharing a room, but seriously, what was the point in moving? Sodapop doesn't mind none anyway, I made sure of that two years ago when I first thought about it. When I asked him if he wanted me to move out of his room since he was nearly an adult and I didn't get nightmares anymore, he slapped me across the back of my head and told me to not think so stupidly. I decided that was proof he wanted me to stay.

Throwing my wet shirt into the laundry basket, I looked around my silent house in awe. It was rare to find the house empty, although maybe not so much now that we were all older, but it still felt strange.

Darry wouldn't be back from work for another hour and a half, who knows what Steve and Soda are going to do when they get off, and Two-Bit had possibly dropped off the face of the Earth. Usually all four of them were out working, or in Two-Bit and Steve's cases, sometimes with their girlfriends, so I had the house to myself a lot, although I wasn't really home to enjoy it.

I spent lots of time hanging out with guys from the track team who I'd gotten close with, working at my part time job waiting tables over on the west side– it's a miracle Darry let me get that job, because no matter how less controlling he is, this was still pretty big for him– or studying down at the library. Thrilling, I know.

Rain banged against the window and I made my way over to the one in the living room to peer outside. It was just pouring out, and now that I was mostly dry, I couldn't help but snicker at my neighbour across the street walking down his driveway. Mr. Akkerman was older, grey hair and walked with a limp, but even though he hollered at me plenty, he was a nice fellow.

When I was younger, he'd tell me stories about how he served in the Great War, also known as the First World War. He was older and by habit still referred to it as the older term. The stories were always scary to me, but I realize now they were pretty far out.

Mr. Akkerman grabbed his mail from inside his mailbox, before starting to limp his way back to the safety of his house, and I slowly started to register what I'd forgotten to do when I got home. My eyes snapped to our own mailbox, and I groaned loudly before heading back over to the door. Of course I'd forgotten to grab our mail.

Pulling my still soaked jacket from the rack, I swung it around my shoulders, which made me shudder a little from its coolness, then threw on my Converse once again, not bothering to tie them up. I stared out at my mailbox, an entire ten feet away from me. No matter how fast I ran, I'd be drenched all over again.

Sighing, I ran out of my door and to the mailbox, the rain making whatever hopes I'd had for my hair to dry soon vanish. Inside the mailbox were a few letters, probably just bills, and I grabbed them before running back to my house. Across the street I heard Mr. Akkerman shout something I couldn't make out over the rain.

I changed my shirt again, and this time my socks as well after water soaked through my shoes. Not bothered enough to try and comb my hair again, I simply ran my hand through it a couple of times before figuring it was probably good enough. If anyone saw me right now, they'd probably mistake me for a drowned rat.

As I walked towards the kitchen to grab a snack from the fridge, I glanced towards the kitchen table where I'd dumped all the mail. They hadn't been spared from the rain, but were still in better condition than I felt. The fridge was empty, or at least in my starving eyes it was, and I couldn't find anything good enough to snack on.

Eventually, I settled for a glass of chocolate milk, even though it was food I craved. Unlike Sodapop, I don't drink straight from the carton, and instead pour some into a glass.

I walked back over to the letters and looked at the one on top as I took a sip. Like I assumed, it was for Darry and was from our electric company. Boring. I pushed it aside and looked at the following one, which was similar to the previous, but instead came from our water company.

Again, I pushed it away and looked at the one beneath it, which was addressed to me.

Swallowing a mouthful of chocolate milk, I picked it up and tore into it gracelessly, not even bothering to see who had sent it. The envelope fell to the table as I flicked open the letter, my eyes finally taking in the University of Tulsa symbol stamped in the corner. Immediately I felt my heart rate spike as I read over the letter quickly, hardly even registering the words on the page as I took another sip. Finally, my eyes stopped on the first sentence.

"It is with great pleasure…"

I choked on my milk as the words registered. It takes a few moments of hacking away, which got so bad tears actually came to my eyes, but eventually I settled again. Even though I'm done choking, the tears stay in my eyes.

I just got accepted into the University of Tulsa.

I was too absorbed in my acceptance letter to hear the front door open and slam shut. My ears didn't pick up on the hollering coming from the living room, or the loud stomping as someone entered the kitchen.

"Ponyboy?"

Slowly, my head lifted from the paper and towards the voice. I saw Soda in the doorway, Steve beside him with his arms crossed. They're both staring at me.

"I got in." I whispered as my teary eyes met Soda's confused ones.

"What?"

"The University of Tulsa. I got in. With a scholarship."

It only took a few seconds before Soda's arms wrapped around me tightly, and I hugged him back just as hard. The letter is crumpled by his chest, but I didn't even care.

"You're going to college!" he exclaimed as he pulled away from me, face bright and proud.

Something wet drips down my face and at first I think it's my hair, but when more dripped down, I realized it was coming from my eyes. I wiped at my face and laughed, not even the slightest bit embarrassed. I was going to college in the fall.

A little under two hours later, Darry wrapped me in his own arms, saying, "You're going to college."

The letter is once again crushed between two bodies but I didn't care. When we broke apart, the look of pride in his eyes was almost enough to make me melt right then and there. I'd never seen him so proud of me, and no matter how hard I tried to push the tears back down, I felt them coming up with a bubbling laugh which came out more of a sob. Darry hugged me again.

Two-Bit barged in the door not too long after Darry had, and when he saw me, he had this apologetic look on his face. He was clearly about to burst into a story explaining why he hadn't picked me up, when he noticed mine, and my brother's teary expressions.

He glanced at Steve, who was the only one who didn't look out of place, probably because he was the only one not either crying or smiling.

Steve grabbed the letter from Darry's hands and passed it to Two-Bit, who read it quickly, or probably only read the first part of it, then looked up at me and shouted, "You're going to college!"

I'd decided I wanted to go to the University of Tulsa after Johnny and Dally died. Before, college hadn't mattered to me, and was just something Darry wanted to constantly be on my case about.

After the incident, and I'd gotten over my denial, I realized I didn't want to have to leave my brothers again. Travelling out of state for college would've hurt me too much, because that week in Windrixville, all alone, minus Johnny obviously, was miserable. Whether I'd admit it to their faces or not, I need the gang. I need to be close enough to them that they're right there when something goes bad.

To celebrate my getting into college, Darry decided to take me to Jay's, one of the nicer restaurants on the east side. The rain had let up a little from when I'd walked home, so the drive to Jay's consisted only of light mist, and the joyful chatter of Darry and Soda, who I was stuck in between. I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts and excitement to join in, or even pay attention to their conversation.

Steve and Two-Bit were following behind us in Steve's car, because apparently Two-Bit's broke again, making it the third time in the past few weeks. That's why he hadn't picked me up, and he'd gotten too distracted trying to figure out what was wrong with it to think to let me know.

Jay's was decently packed when we walked inside, but we were able to get a table in the corner, with comfortable red booth seats in the shape of an L. Two-Bit and Darry slid in first, followed by me, then followed by Soda and Steve, once again trapping me in the middle of my brothers. At least it wasn't as cramped as Darry's Chevrolet truck.

I flipped through the menu the waitress came by and gave to us, nothing on there particularly standing out in my eyes. Coming to the diner was a nice idea by Darry, but I'm not sure if I could even eat anything with how much excitement was bubbling in my stomach. Every meal I looked at just made my stomach twist, so I placed my menu down on the table and looked around the diner, trying to ease the slight feeling of nausea.

Scanning the diner didn't help much, as the smells were still strong in my nose, and the image of freshly made food was in every corner of this place. I stared at this one table with a happy family for a little while, two parents, two kids. They seemed happy, and the kids couldn't have been any older than eight. For a moment I felt a sense of longing for my own parents. It's stupid, but after all this time I still want them more than anything. I know they're proud of me though, even if they aren't here to see it.

My eyes darted away after the father and I made awkward eye contact. I didn't intend on getting caught staring, because I probably looked like a creep watching these two kids, which I guess in a way I kind of was, but not for weird reasons, just, I guess, reminiscing ones? My eyes then landed on some guy sitting alone, downing a milkshake. His hair was scraggly and blond, very light blond. He was staring up at the ceiling just drinking a strawberry milkshake, which alone was strange.

All of a sudden, his gaze was torn from the ceiling, and over to me. We make disturbingly long eye contact, neither of us looking away. He stared at me while I felt like I physically couldn't pull away, it was like I was trapped, just getting lost in his eyes, in every non-romantic way you can say that sentence.

It was horrifying. They were so cold, and so grey I just couldn't find it in me to pull away. Why his stare was so intense I had no idea, but it was like tunnel vision, all I saw was him, and I found myself growing colder and colder.

Then, like I was snapped out of trance, all it took was Soda shaking my shoulders to get me to look away. I was disoriented for a moment, making him repeat what he'd said, and forcing myself to nod and act like everything was good. I even ordered a sandwich off the menu with a Pepsi to make them happy, but the whole time the only thing I could think of was the blond with his murky eyes.

When our food was served, everyone dug in except me. I looked up at where the man was seated first, but he was gone, only the strawberry milkshake remained, almost, but not completely finished.

Friday, March 8th, 1969.

Walking down the halls of high school with only a heap of textbooks made me feel incredibly lonely compared to everyone else who seemed to constantly be accompanied by another person. I was halfway through my senior year, but the loneliness never got easier, because up until that point someone was always there with me. The last time I'd spent my time walking hallways alone was in middle school when everyone in the gang was in high school except me.

My locker fought with me to unlock as per usual, and when it finally came open, I dropped all of my textbooks. Annoyed, I cursed loudly, not caring about anyone around me, and bent down to pick them up. When I stood up, someone grabbed my shoulder roughly and my heart was in my throat.

I looked behind me and relaxed, sighing in irritation as I faced Curly Shepard.

"What's with the face?" he scoffed as he took in my crossed expression.

I turned my back to him as I shoved my textbooks into my locker. "You scared me."

"All I did was grab your shoulder."

"Yeah, scarily."

He laughed and nudged me a little with his shoulder. "Don't be so on edge. What's up with you?"

"Nothing," I replied, slamming my locker shut. "I don't know why I'm being jumpy." Grey eyes flashed through my mind as I said that, but I ignored it, trying to forget.

"Whatever you say." He leaned against the locker next to mine, staring up at the roof tiles. "Tim says you got into some college."

"How does Tim know that?" I laughed in disbelief, a grin playing on my lips.

"Your brother is my best guess." Curly crossed his arms and gave me a small smirk. "Good going, making something of yourself."

"Oh, whatever." I shrugged my shoulders. "I got lucky. Not a big deal."

He rolled his eyes. "Quit it, Curtis. Stop being so damn humble. You've always been a big deal."

I opened my mouth to retort when a voice sounded behind me, and when I looked over my shoulder, I saw my trackmate, Dean Parker, approaching me. He was friendly, and I guess if I had to pick, he was probably my favourite of the track guys. He stopped next to me, and clapped a hand on my shoulder.

"What's this I hear about getting into college?" he grinned and raised an eyebrow at me.

I dropped my gaze to the ground and sighed loudly, a hand running through my hair. "Guess it's everyone's business now?"

"Hey, I just heard the two of you talking from across the hall. If you want to keep secrets, don't speak at the top of your lungs." Dean retorted, grinning widely. I responded by rolling my eyes. "So, where are you heading?"

"University of Tulsa."

"Nice going, Curtis!" Again, he clapped me on my shoulder.

Smiling, I slapped his hand away and leaned an arm against the lockers. "Thanks. What about you? Do you know where you're going?"

"Sure do, Dartmouth."

A surprised laugh came from my lips as my eyes widened. "Are you kidding me? Dean, that's amazing!"

He grinned and brushed his hair back. "Yeah, I know, right?"

Dean came from a wealthy family, Socs. He always had the nicest shoes for running, and was the first to hand in any sort of fees associated with the team. Money didn't corrupt him, though, in my opinion. He never once talked down to me due to the difference in our social statuses. I bet he didn't even have to worry about money for that fancy school.

"So," He drawled, eyeing Curly up for a second and taking in the leather jacket, dirty face, and messy hair, before looking back over at me. "How are we celebrating this one, Curtis?"

"Celebrating?" A small smirk played on my lips as I raised my eyebrows at him. "You're kidding."

He shook his head, hands going into his pockets. "Nope, how's a party tonight sound to you?"

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "No way." I'm not a party man.

"Come on, Curtis, it'll be fun." Dean nudged me a bit, smiling expectantly. "You can bring your friend while you're at it."

Curly's eyes shined as he heard that, going from bored to intrigued. He turned to me, a mischievous gleam to him. "You heard the man, Curtis, it'll be fun."

"You just want the alcohol." I scowled at Curly, who shrugged his shoulders as a response.

"Which," Dean pointed at Curly. "There will be a lot of. Except if anyone asks, it's punch."

Curly nodded his head at Dean while staring into my eyes. "I like how he thinks."

Dean laughed, then turned to me as well. "So, can I expect to see you there? Ten o' clock?"

My face scrunched up as I looked at Curly on my right and Dean on my left, both watching me intently. I was literally trapped. "Fine. I'll be there."

Curly whooped, grinning dangerously and I knew I wouldn't see him anywhere sober at that party, while Dean whistled and hit my shoulder again. He's pretty touchy.

"Glad to hear it, man! Well, I've got to run. Don't even think about not showing, I'll be looking for you." He started walking backwards a little, still staring at me. "I'll have a huge banner out front for you, just in case you forget which house is mine."

I flipped him off, grumbling as he laughed loudly then finally took off. "Look what you've got me into. This is why I never hang out with you, Curly."

"What it seems like to me," Curly smirked as he looked down at me. "Is you're in for a night of a whole lot of fun, and since you're so used to being lonely and cooped up in your room, you're nervous."

"Aw, screw you too." I grunted, rolling my eyes.

I did get the impression that I was going to be in for a whole lot of fun, but something in my gut told me that maybe it was not in the good way.