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Two-Bit Matthews just needed an hour of peace watching cartoons on the couch.
An hour. Was it really that hard?
Apparently so. His plans were disrupted when his crazy sister and Ponyboy decided to spend the evening at their house while Mrs. Matthews was currently out at work late into the night, leaving him as the chaperone.
Dally’s in county lockup, Soda and Steve are at the rodeo, and Darry went to bed.
It’s odd for Darry to sleep early, but since he found out Ponyboy’s just been sneaking out with Harper, he’s loosened up, glad that he wasn’t with a Soc or Curly Shepard.
So when the telephone rings at the Matthews’ residence, Two-Bit groans and lets it run its course.
But it doesn’t stop. The ringing pauses then restarts, and Two-Bit has no choice but to get up from his couch before his sister starts complaining.
“Seriously? Who could be calling at this time?” He mutters under his breath. Ponyboy and Harper are in the corner of the living room, talking in low tones about who knows what. Two-Bit never pegged Harper as the quiet type like Ponyboy, but she does share her weirdness with him so that checks out.
Leaning on the counter, Two-Bit picks up the phone, bringing it to his ear.
“Hello? Is this Two-“ A feminine voice on the other end causes Two-Bit to jump before he sees a bright orange object pummeling in his direction and-
BANG!
The telephone falls out of his grip and abruptly stops ringing. The plastic ball bounces off the wall and onto the floor, breaking the dead silence.
Two-Bit takes a long, deep breath before glaring daggers at the two teenagers who are looking up with guilty eyes.
“…Whoops.” Harper says after a moment. Ponyboy’s become a deer in headlights, terrified but unable to look away.
Two-Bit groans and runs a hand down his face, “You two are the death of me.”
———————
She should’ve known.
It was a stupid call to make.
Yet Marcia couldn’t help it. Cherry was gone, and so was Trip, and the telephone booth called to her like a siren to a sailor.
She didn’t remember how she knew his number until the line cut out. That was the fourth ring. Fifth time’s the charm, right?
But Marcia’s exhausted and her shoes are killing her. The paper-thin cardigan she has on does nothing to protect her shoulders from the biting cold of the night. Then again, she’ll do anything except go back into that party where she was reminded of everything she hated.
Well, hate is a strong word, but the parties and alcohol and guys just don’t hit her like they used to. Like before she met him at the drive-in .
“Marcia?” A sweet voice calls out behind her.
Marcia freezes. Dread creeps into her veins as she feels her heart pounding louder and faster. It’s just Bev, she tries to calm herself.
But there was no calming down. No, not when she could imagine Bev’s judgmental look. Her disgust was evident ever since she discovered Marcia’s Grave Sin back in November. It loomed over Marcia’s shoulder.
She’d tell herself that it was stupid to let the opinions of others get to her, but Bev has that chokehold on people when she’s displeased with them, and now Marcia fears for her life. Cherry’s the only reason nothing catastrophic has happened. And now she’s gone, hanging with Chet.
“Why are you out here? We were looking for you.” Bev comes close enough that Marcia’s forced to look at her. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving this early” she says condescendingly, “You’ve been hiding away enough, haven’t you?”
Ouch. Marcia knows exactly what she’s referring to. “Yeah no, I-uh, I’m going back now.” So much for that fifth time, Marcia thinks as Bev smiles and walks her back to the house, arm in arm.
“Marcia, you know I’m not mad, right?”
“What?”
“You must’ve been bored and desperate for some action after breaking up with Trip. I know you wouldn’t want to go steady with greasy trash.” Bev squeezes her arm, “I understand.”
Marcia feels lighter at those last two words as they weave through the crowd that had grown at the entrance of the estate. But Bev’s words situate themself like lead in the back of her head. Greasy trash, she thinks. He’s nothing like that.
———————
In the light November chills stood Marcia Davis at the doorstep of the Matthews residence. She stuck out like a sore thumb, her tailored clothes and soft scarf against the home’s rough exterior, dulling colors and aging wood littering the front porch. The doorbell’s chime jolted her out of her daze and reminded her why she was really here.
“Marcia? ’S that really you?” Two-Bit opened the door, practically hanging onto it. He peered at her through half-lidded eyes and disheveled curly black hair that fell over his face, framing his cheekbones, and she wanted to punch herself for even thinking he looked cute in that state. Did she interrupt a nap?
“Hi, Two-Bit. Yes.” She blurted out. Great job, she scolded herself.
“I-um, can I help you?” Two-Bit looked around her awkwardly wondering if he was missing something.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“What?” His eyes blew wide.
“I gave you my number at the drive-in,” Marcia heaved. “You said you would call. It’s been three months,” she was struggling to balance her tone between furious and on the verge of tears.
Two-Bit blinked. Then blinked twice. “You… wanted me to call you?” He said slowly, making sure he wasn’t saying anything stupid.
Marcia huffed and looked away, clearly caught off guard by his uncharacteristic reaction. The guy she met at the drive-in would have broken into a grin by now and asked her out right away despite his empty pockets. “Why else would I have given you that paper?” She said bashfully, slowly looking back at him.
“Marcia, my God I’m so sorry-“ He started to reach for her.
“Wait,” She held her hands out, unsure whether she herself wanted him to hold her. He seemed to have gotten the memo and stood at a distance in front of her.
“Look, I wanted to call you. I really did.” Did, Marcia noted that word in her head. “But I didn’t believe someone so beautiful could want greaser trash calling and wasting telephone bills. And after everything with Johnny and Dally I just—“ His voice broke. “I’m so sorry Marcia.”
Marcia felt her shoulders relax. Right, Johnny and Dally. She remembered the solemn look on Cherry talking about those two when Marcia was at her house. They made it out alive, but not without repercussions. She remembered the image of the Socs backing out of Johnny’s way in the halls while calling him a murderer and the bitter taste it left on her tongue. He had been on crutches.
Without fully thinking, she stepped forward and looped her arms around him in a hug, resting her head on his shoulder. She could feel a slight tremble as his hands hovered over her, unsure of where to place them.
Finally, he relaxed and clutched onto her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Marcia. I like you a lot, I really do. It’s just been a hell of three months.” He pulled away so he could look into her eyes.
She was startled by his sincerity. The guy she’d met at the drive-in seemed to joke about everything, and they’d been drawn to each other like magnets. Marcia wondered what happened in those months that made him like this. She didn't know how to feel about this change, but she stayed for his softer side. That was hard to find on her side of the tracks.
He led her into the house, gently holding her hand like it was glass. But Marcia didn’t want gentle. Around Two-Bit, she could be anything. So she tugged on his arm and pulled herself flush to his chest and closed the distance between them.
“You like me a lot?” She peered into his eyes, centimeters away.
“Hell yeah,” he breathed.
He stumbled but caught on quickly, and all of the charm he’d showed the first night they met flowed back in like second nature.
Marcia left the house with his slip of paper in her hand, the ten-digit number burning itself into her palms.
————————
Two-Bit hasn’t been thinking of much in the following half hour after Harper catapulted a toy ball to the telephone.
Luckily it was still intact, or else that half hour would’ve been Two-Bit laying into her skull while Ponyboy looked away shamefully.
Now, he’s watching them both snore softly on the carpet in the living room. Harper’s resting her head on Ponyboy’s lap, curled up against him. His hands are idly carding themselves through her thick hair, and the sight makes Two-Bit sick to his stomach.
Two-Bit may act like a child, but certainly not enough to be jealous of his sister’s love life. No, he only feels sick because two weeks ago he was the same with his last…
Girlfriend? Friend? Fling?
None of those seemed right. What could they even be? They never put a sticker on what they were, but it went deeper than a fling for sure. Two-Bit hasn’t dated anyone since she ghosted him.
It hurts like hell looking at her with her Soc friends in the halls, a world away. But looking at other girls just leads his thoughts back to her, which hurts all the same.
———————-
Marcia’s back where she started.
In the cramped living room full of sweaty bodies, she can’t wait to get out. She stumbles over to the kitchen island, where all of the alcohol is. She contemplates getting fruit punch, and reaches for a red solo cup until a whistle makes her pause.
She doesn’t even need to look over to know that it’s in her direction. It’s sharp, piercing the conversation and music in the air. Marcia turns around hesitantly, and sees Trip leaning against one side of the counter. Just my luck.
“ What’s up princess? Been awhile, don’tcha think?” He tilts his head down in a sinister glare. “I’ve missed ya.”
“Piss off Trip. We’re done and have been. I made that clear at the parking lot, didn’t I?”
It’s a dangerous move. Marcia would’ve never talked like this when they were still together. She would’ve scolded herself at the thought of even speaking like that. But now, she couldn’t care less.
Until Trip straightens up and narrows his eyes at her. “I didn’t expect my Marcia to throw such dirty language. Probably got that from the little greaser trash you’ve been hanging around” He raises both of his hands in a fake surrender, “Sorry, Marc. I thought it’d be cool since you’re alone tonight.” He’s practically cackling at his own joke.
There’s fire coursing through Marcia’s veins. Furious, she grabs the red solo cup, scoops it into the punch bowl, and shoves it into his face. Trip’s hair, face, and tailored shirt is instantly drenched in a red hue. There’s a collective gasp from the people around the counter.
“Get lost, asshole” She hisses. A wave of triumph washed over her and it’s the one time she can relax. Marcia tries not to make her smirk too apparent at Trip’s appalled expression looking at his soaking reddened clothes. But she looks at the crowd around her and realizes she needs to get out of here, now. The exit is behind Trip, so she rushes past the counter and past him.
“Let go of me!” Marcia shouts when she sees him grab her wrist with a force unknown. This is bad, she thinks, with alarms sounding off in her head, and tries squirming out of his grip.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily” His voice drips like venom by her ear, and Marcia has never felt more dread. She lets out a shriek as his hands grip the ends of her hair, her scalp feeling like it’s been lit up by a match. She feels like a rag doll, hopelessly grabbing his wrist but it only worsens the pain. A ring of spectators have gathered around the counter, the other partiers standing uneasily. “I’m gonna make you regret everything,” he says.
Marcia can hear her heart pounding behind her ears. There were a slew of possibilities Trip could be talking about. She doesn’t want to think about any of them. Although she can’t see well, she knows he’s trying to drag her somewhere.
They stumble around the space for a few seconds until Marcia hears a grunt that isn’t hers and all of the force is gone. Trip’s hand has been removed from her wrist.
“What the fuck was that man?” Chet. Marcia turns around and sees him manhandling Trip, who mumbles something inaudible. She sees Cherry rush over from the corner of her eye and gently grasp her by the shoulders. They swiftly make their way out of the house, the sound of Chet laying into Trip fading away. The wave of relief that washes over Marcia is so strong she nearly crumbles next to Cherry.
“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left you. Are you alright?” She asks frantically, but already knows the answer.
Marcia weakly nods, silent tears and sniffles filling the air. They walk around aimlessly until she sees the telephone booth again.
Cherry notices Marcia halt. “Do you want to call someone? Can I leave you here?”
Marcia nods wordlessly and deflates slightly. She’s dragging Cherry away from all the fun. She wants to go back to be with Chet rather than her friend who’s just been harassed , Marcia thinks bitterly, looking at the reddish ring on her wrist. Cherry whispers a thanks and leaves her to her own devices.
————————
Harper hears the ring first.
That’s how it was. Harper was the type of kid to notice the littlest details yet forget that the spoon she was looking for was in her hand.
“Two-Bit, the phone’s ringing!” She calls over. Ponyboy and him are fast asleep.
“Ugh, I’m coming over.” He calls across the living room.
“Well walk faster!” Harper yells back, ignoring the sleeping boy by the couch who groans. “Sorry Ponyboy,” She adds.
“‘S fine, Harps” He drawls, ignoring Two-Bit’s teasing foot on his rib.
Two-Bit lets out a snort at the nickname. “Harps? Really?” His sister shoots him a piercing glare as he picks up the telephone again.
“Alright, who’s calling at this time of day? I swear if it’s you Steve I’m gonna-“
“Two-Bit?”
He freezes at the painfully familiar voice that cuts through the line. “Marcia?” he manages to utter.
“Two-Bit,” she says again, breathlessly. There’s a quiver in her voice as she speaks and it breaks his heart. “I’m so sorry. I-uh, could you give me a ride? It’s fine if you can’t I can-“
“Marcia, where are you?” He says, determined. All of his drowsiness from before has faded.
“The telephone booth on Pinewood. Near the bus stop.” She says shakily. “Thank you so much Two-“
He sets down the phone so hard that both Ponyboy and Harper look up. “You guys aren’t gonna burn this place down, right?” He begins to grab his jacket.
“Where are you going?” Harper asks, genuinely. There’s a look in Two-Bit’s eyes that dissolves the humorous atmosphere from before.
“I’ll be back. And if I’m not, I’ll call you two.” Harper raises an eyebrow, but sends him off anyway.
“Drive safe,” She calls out. Though he doubts that will happen.
The streets are empty and quiet in the dark as Two-Bit zooms through turns and lights in his old, beat-down car. All he can think about is the fear that was in Marcia’s voice, and how he hadn’t heard that voice in years. It’s weird, how he could drop everything for her (besides his sister) even after weeks of separation. He’s not even sure she wants him back. But he’ll take the risk if she calls for it. After all, she called his name before.
—————-
Marcia looks up with hope at the sound of an old car engine growing closer. It’s a beat-up thing, for sure, but she couldn’t care less as she slides into the passenger seat of Two-Bit’s car silently. She can feel his questioning gaze but stays silent, the events before washing over her like a chilling wind. She has yet to make eye contact with him.
She feels a rough hand cover hers and rub its fingers over her knuckles. What if, Marcia thinks, we could go back to before?
She expects the engine to start revving up and the car to start moving, but nothing happens. They sit in that spot for what feels like minutes.
“Marcia. What happened?” Two-Bit finally asks. She thinks about what transpired minutes ago, with the soreness of her wrist and stinging in her scalp still remaining.
“Hey, hey,” She feels two warm hands grasp her shoulders and rub them comfortingly. It’s grounding for her shivering body and running tears as she curls inwards, shoulders hunched over and chin to her chest.
“I’m sorry,” Marcia musters. “I ghosted you and then I just called you and you’re probably sick of me-“
“Look at me,” Two-Bit gently but firmly tilts her head so they’re making eye contact. “We’ll talk about everything later.”
She just stares at him like a deer caught in headlights, and her body is rigid. Frozen in place. The tears are beginning to cease, but the shaken look is still in her eyes.
“Marcia, what happened?” Two-Bit slides his hands down her arms and gathers her hands in them.
The haze in her eyes disappear as she heaves a breath to compose herself before speaking. “I was at a party with Cherry and-“ she takes a deep breath before continuing “I fought with Trip.”
“Oh, Marsh,” Two-Bit rubs her arms in a soothing motion, peeling back the barrier she’d put up since they last spoke.
“He grabbed my hair and dragged me around until Chet came in-“
“He what?”
Marcia’s shocked at the expression on Two-Bit’s face. Didn’t he figure it out when she said they fought?
He seems to have read her mind. “I thought he just picked an argument with you.”
Marcia shakes her head, the horror of the past hour catching up to her in waves.
Two-Bit sighs. “Where do you wanna go?”
“Don’t know. Don’t wanna go home.” Marcia whispers.
They sit in silence, not looking at each other before Two-Bit speaks up.
“Come home with me?”
It’s kind of an absurd request considering what Marcia had just gone through, but it’s better than nothing. And it’s killing him having her within her reach but unable to do anything about it.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. My sister’s home though.”
Marcia relaxes. Slowly, the memories are coming back. Events she didn’t allow herself to ruminate on until she was alone at night, thinking herself to sleep. God, how she missed him. “Let’s go. Let’s go right now” she says almost breathlessly.
The car ride is silent except for the occasional loud sound in the motors from Two-Bit’s half-decade-old baby. The air is lighter, and it feels like Marcia can finally swim up for a breath after weeks.
Once he puts the car into park with a grunt, Two-Bit looks over to see Marcia’s head tipped to the side. Her curtain bangs slightly fall over the left side of her face, mouth ajar and eyes closed.
He feels a stupidly wide smile creep itself onto his face. “Marcia,” he says gently. “We’re here.”
“Mmm ok,” she mumbles, but all that she does is shuffle the slightest bit in the old leather seat, her body limp.
Two-Bit stifles a laugh— some things never change— he thinks to himself as a familiar ache in his heart returns. He slides one hand under Marcia’s knees and the other on her back, slowly curling her into his chest, inhaling the dampness in the air mixed with her expensive perfume. He silently stands still, grounding himself to the ground after he knocks.
The door creaks open, and instead of hearing his sister’s obnoxious voice, Two-Bit sees his sister’s poor boyfriend. Ponyboy quickly lets them in, eyes wide as he registers who is in his friend’s arms.
Ponyboy says in barely a whisper, “is that—“
“Yes. Where’s Harper?” Two-Bit replies, having gotten quieter. Before Ponyboy can answer, they both hear light footsteps down the hall.
Harper stares at her brother, slack jawed. “Keith, what the hell.”
————
Marcia takes a fist of the the sheets she’s lying in, the texture rough and worn out in her hand. Although it feels nothing like the soft bed she’s used to at her house, she recognizes the scent like a second home.
She lets out a shriek when she sees Harper facing her sitting in a chair, staring dead straight into her eyes.
“Geez, what the hell? It’s just me,” Harper peeks above her book at the Soc lying in her brother’s bed.
“Well you were staring straight at me,” Marcia mutters. There’s a tense silence when Harper returns to her book, but Marcia can tell that she’s itching to say something.
“So… you and Two-Bit…” Harper sets her book down.
Marcia’s eyes widen like saucers. That was not what she was expecting. “Oh- uh, no. It’s complicated,” she sheepishly says, breaking eye contact.
“Don’t you think you’ve led him on enough?” Marcia flinches at Harper’s sudden change in tone. It bites even harder knowing that she’s right. What right did she have, ghosting Two-Bit then having him take her home? She couldn’t even remember walking herself into his house. Did he carry her?
“Harper, I’m sorry, I kno-“
“He got a job. He started pulling back on the cigarettes and alcohol. Not even I could have done that. He was willing to become a better person for you. And then you just left and never came back.” Harper’s voice was rising. You’d have thought she was his older sister, Marcia thought.
Marcia glares back. “You don’t know what happened. Do you even understand what it’s like to be ostracized by the only friends you’ve had since freshman year?”
But that didn’t work. “Of course I have. Just because I live on another side of town doesn’t mean we don’t have similar problems. It’s funny because only my ‘friends’ who are like you have done that.” Harper sneers as Marcia shrinks at the ridiculousness of her previous argument.
“Even if they isolated you for someone you loved?” She stares down Harper and sits upright on the bed. A blanket of silence settles over the both of them.
For the first time, Harper was rendered speechless. “You… loved him?”
Marcia throws her hands up, “of course I did! I still love him. I never wanted to leave like that. I didn’t have a choice.”
Harper raises an eyebrow in her brother’s typical fashion. “A choice? Those are all you get when you’re a Soc!” Harper snaps back. “All you people get are choices! We could only dream of having any choice to make.”
Now it was Marcia’s turn to be speechless. She was shocked at the difference in the Matthews siblings. While Two-Bit was goofed out and would act on force, Harper was quick to think and fight back verbally. In a way, they completed each other. Before she can even respond, they both hear a door creak open.
“Hey, Marcia. How’r you feelin’? I got toast.” Two-Bit’s eyes flick awkwardly between her and his sister, sensing that he’d come in at a bad time. “You should eat too, sis.”
“Oh, I feel fine,” Marcia quickly gets up and follows Two-Bit down the hall. “Thank you for last night,” he glances at her upon her speaking. “I don’t think I could thank you enough.”
“Well, you just did” he says as they all sit down. Harper takes one bite and quickly excuses herself from the table. “You haven’t even eaten yet!” Two-Bit calls out.
“Not hungry. I’ll eat later!” She calls back.
And then it’s just the two of them alone. Having breakfast together.
————
Two-Bit Matthews was going to combust. Here he is, with the love of his life and also his greatest cause for grief (that might be contested with Harper’s birth). Even though Marcia had just woken up, he was busy thinking she was the most beautiful woman he knew and couldn’t believe she was sitting in front of him.
“I’m sorry,” Marcia blurts out.
A piece of scrambled eggs fall from Two-Bit’s fork as he looks up in shock. “What for?”
“For not explaining. You deserved better, and I was a coward to account for anything. I-” She stops when Two-Bit holds up his hand.
“Look, Marcia. What you did was wrong. I was crushed, and so was Harper.” He takes in her astonishment at the last statement. “But you’re also the best thing that happened to me. And even though I don’t really know what to call whatever we had before, I know you, and I knew you had your reasons for doing what you did. Honestly, I’m just so glad you’re here again.”
Her eyes well up just hearing the sound of his voice after so long. She’s not sure if she can ever look at another man again. “You’re too good to me, Two.”
Two-Bit cheeses across the table like a stupid person, “I don’t know about that.” He starts putting the plates away, and Marcia follows. They stand there at the kitchen counter, wordlessly looking into each other’s eyes. He can tell Marcia's drawing a triangle on his face. Right, Left, Down.
With a pounding in his ears, he cups her face in his hands and kisses her like his life depends on it.
She latches her arms around his neck, melting into his own. Two-Bit holds onto her as she traces her fingers down his spine, and feels electrifying waves down to his fingertips.
They briefly separate to catch for air, “Can I take you out sometime?” Two-Bit breathes.
Marcia takes a good, long look at him, and grins. “Only if it’s a date.”
“God, I’d go crazy if it wasn’t” he mumbles into her neck, savoring the vibrations from her giggle. “I love you, Marsh.”
Marcia tilts his chin up to face her with her hand, as if his face isn’t flushed red enough. “I love you too. More than you’d know.”