Chapter Text
The Curtis house door slammed so hard it rattled the photos on the wall.
“Tell me he’s lyin’, Soda.”
Darry’s voice was steel. He stood by the doorframe, arms rigid, jaw clenched so hard it looked like it hurt.
Sodapop didn’t answer. He just stared down at the floor like it had personally betrayed him too.
You were sitting on the couch. Frozen. Exposed. The room was full of them—every Greaser who ever touched you, kissed you, loved you, thought they had you to themselves. And now they knew.
Or worse. They knew they weren’t the only one.
“Don’t just stand there,” Steve snapped, his voice sharp and mean. “Say somethin’, Darry. You always got somethin’ to say.”
“I’m tryin’ not to put my fist through a wall right now, Randle. That good enough for you?”
“Y’all are actin’ like she’s the only problem here,” Two-Bit cut in, his usual smirk nowhere to be found. “What if some of us didn’t know we were bein’ played? Or maybe you all knew, and just hoped you’d be the favorite.”
Ponyboy was off to the side, arms crossed, fists balled. His cheeks were flushed, eyes shining with something worse than anger—disgust.
“You said it was real,” he muttered, staring at you. “Every time. You told me I was different.”
Johnny, next to him, hadn’t said a word. He looked sick. Betrayed. Small.
Dallas paced like a caged animal.
“That’s the thing,” he finally said, voice low and dangerous. “All of us thought we were different. Thought we were the only one getting those goddamn kisses. And it turns out—”
He turned to you, teeth bared in something that looked more like pain than rage.
“Turns out you were just keepin’ your options open, huh?”
You opened your mouth.
Big mistake.
“I—”
“Don’t,” Darry snapped. “Don’t even start.”
The house practically vibrated with the tension.
“I knew somethin’ was off,” Soda finally spoke, his voice cracked. “You’d kiss me like it meant something, then two days later I’d see you leavin’ the lot with Dally. Or smilin’ at Pony like he hung the moon.”
“That’s not—”
“Shut up!” Steve barked, pointing at you like you were on trial. “You don’t get to speak yet. Not ‘til you hear all of it.”
You bit your tongue.
“I told Johnny you were good,” Soda said, quieter now. “That you’d never hurt us like the others. I told him you were different. I lied for you.”
Johnny flinched, guilt flashing across his face.
“I didn’t… I thought I was the only one,” he whispered. “I swear I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have—I never wanted to—”
Two-Bit let out a harsh laugh. “Ain’t that sweet. The one honest kiss among a whole damn collection.”
Darry turned to you then. Eyes dark. Voice low.
“You kiss them like you kissed me?”
You couldn’t answer. The air felt like smoke.
He scoffed. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
Ponyboy finally snapped. “Why us?”
His voice cracked. “Why all of us? You could’ve picked anyone—but you had to pick all of us?”
“Maybe she liked the attention,” Dally growled. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart? Felt real good havin’ us all wrapped around your finger like toys.”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone!” you shouted suddenly, chest heaving. “I didn’t mean for it to get this far—”
“But it did!” Steve yelled. “You didn’t mean to kiss me at the DX? You didn’t mean to spend the night with Soda? You didn’t mean to kiss Dally right in front of Pony?!”
You were crying now. You didn’t even know when it started. But it didn’t stop the boys from shouting over each other.
“I was nothing to you!”
“Did you laugh about it after?”
“I told you I loved you.”
“Guess that was a goddamn joke too.”
“Were we just your little experiment?”
Johnny stood up suddenly. The room quieted. Even Dallas stopped pacing.
“I wanna know,” Johnny said quietly, “who you would’ve picked.”
The silence that followed was brutal.
You blinked.
“I—”
“That’s what I thought,” he said, his voice breaking.
And then it all fell apart.
Steve slammed a glass against the wall. Two-Bit shoved Dally. Dally shoved back. Darry was in the middle, trying to break it up, but his own fists were clenching tighter and tighter.
Pony left. Slammed the front door so hard it echoed down the block.
Sodapop sank onto the floor, arms around his knees, whispering curses under his breath.
Johnny… was gone too. You didn’t even see him leave.
Two-Bit looked at you last. You wished he hadn’t.
“You know what the worst part is?” he said, shaking his head. “You made us think we could have somethin’ good. Made me think I mattered.”
The door slammed again.
One by one, they all left.
And you were alone in the Curtis house.
With your lipstick on seven mouths.
And no one left to kiss.