Chapter Text
I hadn’t expected that what happened today would ever happen, even in a million years.
It was me and my gang: Tim, Angela, and some other greasers that haven’t had a real conversation with me in ages. They’re just here because Tim likes them, and why would I have a say of who’s in our gang or not? I’m just Tim’s little brother, and more of a tag-a-long than even Angela.
We were all sitting on the curb, smoking. I sat hunched over next to Tim and some other kid called David who was way older than me, stronger too, and I was careful around him because even though we’re in the same gang I know for sure that he hated me.
“Curly,” Tim nudged my shoulder, laughing. “You should go jump that kid.”
Tim gestured to a little kid–ten years old probably–walking alone with the perfect opportunity for me to come up and start beating him. It was a bad idea doing that, especially since the sun had already gone down and that kid probably needed to be home as soon as possible.
I sighed, because I remembered the time I’d jumped M&M. Bryon and Mark came up to hit me so fast I didn’t even get to pin the kid, I just got jumped on. That night when Ponyboy climbed through my window, he took one look at me and rubbed my bruised cheek with his thumb. I remembered Ponyboy’s face, he was playing with my hair when I told him what I’d done and he looked at me mortified.
“I didn’t know you jumped little kids..” he’d said disappointedly as he tucked my curls behind my ear. I felt like I’d let him down with how sad he sounded, it made me feel like I was a little kid getting lectured by my dad again.
“Well, my gang-” I protested, but was cut off.
“Curly.. I don’t want you doin’ that stuff, okay?”
And that was it, I never jumped someone younger than me again, and kept cursing at myself each time I thought about it, so eventually the thought never came again. I wasn’t going to do this for them. Kids weren’t to be jumped,they didn’t deserve it. Ponyboy mattered way more than all them anyway.
“I’m not doing that.” I said, and Tim and David started chuckling amongst themselves.
“What, did’ya finally grow some brains?” David joked and I gave him a warning look.
“I said I’m not gonna do that.” I took a drag of my cigarette, trying to stay calm, though it was humiliating the way the two of them snickered. I pretended not to notice, then I saw Tim standing up.
“I’ll do it, then.”
I jolted up, raising my voice so Tim knew I was serious.
“That ain’t funny, Tim, you could seriously hurt that kid.” I said sternly. I hoped this time that Tim would listen, but I didn’t think he would. He never listened to me. He’s always right in his mind, just because I’m a kid and he isn’t, but that doesn’t mean anything. I used to keep my parents in line all the time.
“Oh, so you’re all of the sudden turned soft?” Tim questioned, and I was starting to get angry. If he weren’t my brother I’d have beat him up right now and thought nothing of it.
“I’m not soft, I just don’t want to beat up little kids!” I snapped, and the rest of my gang, as well as some other people started to turn their heads. Some hippie turned that kid’s head the other way and started taking him home, and David was looking at me like I was some baby. God, I hated him.
“You really can’t do it, huh, Curly?” Tim was coming closer, and I thought he was going to hit me or something. I started backing away.
“No! I won’t do it!”
“Guess you can’t be in our gang, then.”
“So be it.” I said without thinking.
I hesitated, then accepted it. I was out of the gang, alone. I didn’t belong here. I turned my head to see Angela, who had been watching the whole thing in horror, and I wanted to say something but I just turned my heel and sprinted out of there. Nobody came after me.
I kind of wish someone cared enough, but they didn’t, so it doesn’t matter.
When I turned the corner, I broke my sprint and just walked the street aimlessly. If I went home, Tim would come after a while and yell at me for leaving his gang, or for turning soft on him, or anything about me that pissed him off. I couldn’t go to ponyboy’s either, because his whole gang hates me, and there's a chance that his brother will open the window instead of him, and I can’t risk that.
I searched my pockets for a weed and found nothing, so I started toward the drugstore at the end of the street.
As I walked, a weight settled on my shoulders. I kept cringing remembering Angela’s face. I kept wiping my eyes remembering Tim’s. Was I really a loner now? I really didn’t have a gang anymore, did I? I felt like throwing up. Or fainting. I don’t know what it was, but I’d never been so angry in my life.
I don’t even know why, because I hated that gang. I hated David, I hated Tim, I hated every broad-shouldered greaser in the gang except for Angela. Nothing could ever make me hate Angela. I even kind of wanted to go back there and save her from those people, but I didn’t. She didn’t care enough.
“Hey, grease.” A menacing voice came from behind me.
I had to stop myself from gasping. For someone with that voice–especially a soc–I was going to get jumped, and with no gang to hide behind. I started to ignore them, walking at the same pace as I was before. The worst they could do was kill me.
Kill me?
Me?
Suddenly, I cared about my life. I think if I wasn’t terrified then, I would’ve known why.
I broke into a run, and not a fast one at that. I thought I could get away, or at least hold myself off until somebody saw what was happening and saved me, but nobody did, and I couldn’t run forever.
I turned around and swung my fist at the Soc in front of me, but the guy wasn’t affected, he was just angrier. I got pushed to the ground and pinned to the sidewalk before I knew what was happening. The back of my head slammed the sidewalk and then I just let it happen. I didn’t care. It wasn’t like I could do anything anyway.
“Fuck you. You Socs have it made. You have no fucking idea what-” I immediately got punched in the jaw harder than ever. I winced in pain and shut my eyes as the area started to sting. These Socs needed to be locked up with how hard they were hitting me. My whole body went weak. Everything was hurting. I stopped cursing them out after a while. They weren’t going to stop. All I was trying to do now was set myself free from this guy’s grip, but he was pressing hard onto my elbows and I was starting to lose hope. All they were using was their hands. I wasn’t going to be hurt, no, at least I hoped.
“Curly!” A familiar voice shrieked from not too far away. It was Ponyboy.
No.
He can’t be here. All that’s gonna happen is that we’ll both start being beat up.
Something was off. That was way too many footsteps at once to be just Ponyboy. It was his whole gang, coming to save me, and I wasn’t even one of them.
I don’t remember what happened after that, but I do remember waking up in the hospital. But it wasn’t, it was someone’s bed.
“You awake, Shepard?” someone asked me. I didn’t know who that was. I didn’t know where I was, either. Or how hurt I was, or if I was dying. I didn’t know anything, but I knew I wanted to see someone.
“Where’s Ponyboy?” I asked, surprised I could speak clearly. Maybe I wasn’t as bad as I thought?
“He’s smoking outside. He’s really worried about you.”
“Am I dying?”
The guy laughed.
“No, you’ll be fine. You just need to stay in bed for a few.”
“Hours?” I asked hopefully. I couldn’t spend any longer than that being bedridden. Otherwise I’ll just end up sleeping all day, and that can’t be fun.
“More like a day, Shepard. They messed you up.”
This is going to be my worst nightmare. One thing about me is that I leave the house every day. I never spend any time at home unless Tim’s keeping me there because of something going on with gangs and Socs. And even then, most times I sneak out to see Ponyboy at his house.
When Ponyboy came in, the guy talking to me stood up and I realized that it was Darrel Curtis, Pony’s older brother. Then, he left the room and it was just Ponyboy and me.
I sat up, coming to the realization that I was able to, and scanned the room. Next to the bed, there was a chair, one that Darry had been sitting in when I woke up. On the wall was a letter from me, a drawing I gave Pony, and a track certificate, all tacked up next to each other.
Ponyboy climbed into his bed and sprawled next to me looking at my fingernails.
“How do they grow so fast?” He asked, and I just smiled and laughed. I’m usually always really smiley around Ponyboy, but right now instead of being excited, I just want to go back to sleep. I laid down next to him, staring at his green-gray eyes that were staring right back at me.
I scooted closer–if that was physically possible–and put my arms around him. In response, he kissed me on the lips, and as much as I liked it, my entire face did still hurt.
“Ow.” I said, puffing out my cheek where the guy had hit me.
“Oh.. sorry, sorry.” Ponyboy whispered, touching my hair instead. That boy just can’t stop touching me, can he? My eyes felt heavy and I kept blinking slowly. Eventually, I stopped trying to stay awake. I soon dozed off with him next to me anyway.
When I woke up, my face felt hot and it hurt like a sunburn but way, way, worse. Ponyboy was sleeping sound in front of me, and knowing him, If I woke him up he would never fall back to sleep. I struggled to keep tears from my eyes, but in the end, everything just hurt too bad.
I ended up softly sobbing and trying as hard as I could to keep Ponyboy asleep.
Ponyboy’s arms tightened on me. He was awake. Dammit.
“Oh, Curly..” He whispered as I cried into his shirt. “It’s okay, It’s okay.”
“I’m so sorry..” I said through sobs.
“Stop bein’ sorry for everything. I got you.”
Now I knew why I was so scared to die. Because I didn't want to lose this.