Keep On Trying by Another Illusion

Summary: Dealing with the deaths of two friends, Two-Bit uses all his wit to try and keep his remaining friends together, and on meeting someone within detention realises the importance of family and friendship to get through these difficult times. Two-Bit, OMC, OFC 3rd person POV

A.N-I’m British so use British spelling and terminology, which you may know by now! Thanks as ever to my amazing betas and to all my reviewers.

Disclaimer:I do not own Two-Bit or any of the characters created by S E Hinton or Desperado by the Eagles.

Five: Winning Streak

“Don't you draw the queen of diamonds, boy/ She'll beat you if she's able/ You know the queen of hearts is always your best bet ..."

The sunlight was streaming through the window, causing Two-Bit unnecessary effort as he turned over on the sofa. His head was throbbing violently and he felt sick. All in all it had clearly been a good night.

“Someone close the curtain,” he grumbled before burying his head in a cushion. The eighteen year old took a deep breath and then slowly sat up.

“You alright Two-Bit?” someone asked from a corner, Two-Bit turned to face him and his vision finally focused. The sound of snoring came from the floor and Two-Bit fought a grin. He often spent those Friday nights when he didn’t have a date hanging out for an hour or so at Buck’s and then playing poker with a few guys at Adam Green’s house. Adam’s folks were always out and probably wouldn’t have cared anyway. Two-Bit liked to see other people than just the gang, and most weekends Steve was with Evie, often with Soda being set up with one of her friends, and Pony was too young for the sort of thing Two-Bit enjoyed like drinking and gambling, and girls. Even if Pony wasn’t, if Darry thought Two-Bit was being a bad influence on Pony then he would skin him alive.

“Yeah, just dandy,” he lied. His head was throbbing, but he was trying not to care too much. “What about you, Adam?”

“Yes. I think Jacob and Joe are a little hung-over though,” he sniggered as Two-Bit turned to look at the two teenagers passed out on the floor. Jacob was the one snoring loudly.

Adam Green was eighteen and one of Tim Shepard’s gang. Two-Bit and him had been friends in elementary school and maintained some type of contact since then. He had dropped out of school earlier that year and was now working his way up in Tim’s gang. “You know what time it is?” Adam asked suddenly.

“No.”

“No problem,” he said. “Tim’s got his sentencing later. I was going to swing by, but it’s probably best I don’t.”

“How long do you think he will get?” Two-Bit asked. A few weeks ago Tim had attempted to burgle a Soc’s house and been caught by some cops who had overheard the new kid Tim was taking with him talking about it. The kid --Freddie or Frankie, something like that -– had been in significant danger from the Shepard gang from that moment on. Two-Bit didn’t want to even think about what would happen to him on his release from the reformatory.

“Honestly? Six months,” Adam said casually. “He’s leaving me in charge,” he smugly stated. “I would have sworn he woulda left Will in charge, still...” he flicked out a switchblade from his pocket and polished it with his jacket with a proud grin. Two-Bit knew that Adam had always wanted to prove himself to Tim, and he really hoped Adam didn't screw up, ruining all his plans.

Idly, Two-Bit picked up a pack of cards from the floor and began to shuffle them. When he was twelve he saw ‘Ocean's Eleven’ at the cinema, and from that moment on he desperately wanted to work in a casino. As with most of his childhood aspirations, he eventually changed his mind, but at least he learned how to shuffle a deck of cards well from the experience. Anyway, he didn't really have the patience to sit and concentrate on cards for a long time. However, that didn't stop him from playing with friends every week; last night he lost nearly all of his money. Still, he knew better than to play while drunk.

“I’m going to have to get them out of here soon,” Adam suddenly said, looking down at the two teenagers on the floor. “My Dad’ll be back soon, an’ he’ll go crazy if they are here.” It was no secret that Adam hated his father, and that he hated him right back. Even as a child, Two-Bit had been able to sense their volatile relationship through the way Adam’s face changed whenever the subject of parents came up.

“Yeah, I better go too,” Two-Bit said, reluctantly standing up. Once again his vision blurred before everything eventually focused, and he made his way out of the living room, once it had stopped spinning.

His car wasn’t parked outside Adam’s house, but he vaguely remembered leaving it outside Charlie’s bar the night before. He rapidly wished he had not gambled all his money away - it was a long walk from Adam’s to his own house, let alone over to Charlie’s.

Tired and yawning, Two-Bit walked through the back door with a sense of achievement. The walk had been tedious, in fact it had been downright dangerous in parts, but he was home now and relatively intact. His hangover wasn’t too severe, he found he was rarely sick after drinking - just prone to headaches, and they were easily cured.

“Is that you?” his mother called from the living room.

“Yeah, it’s me, Ma,” he replied quietly, rummaging through drawers to find the aspirin.

He heard footsteps behind him but continued in his search. “It’s in the third drawer,” his mother said coolly. He didn’t immediately turn around, waiting until he had found the bottle of aspirin before he faced her.

“Thanks.”

“Big night, huh?” she casually asked as he filled an empty glass with water and took the painkillers.

“It was alright, yeah.” He downed the last of the glass. “What are you implying, Ma?”

“What?”

“With the ‘big night’ comment?”

“Oh, Two-Bit, I’m just worried. I’m your mother, it’s my job,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “It’s nearly one in the afternoon and you’ve just sauntered in after being out all night, god knows where!”

He sighed. “I’m fine Ma, I don’t have a problem. I go out, yeah, but so do most of the other guys. I enjoy a drink, but I ain’t an alcoholic.”

“You stink of booze.” His mother was never this blunt or brusque with him. They rarely argued or disagreed with one another, so her confronting him was rare and worried him. He was certain he had not been drinking any more than usual, perhaps she was just stressed.

“I was in a bar! Stinkin’ of booze and being in a bar go together,” he argued. “Ma, I ain’t Dad.”

There was a long silence and Two-Bit wished his homecoming had not been so awkward. Where was Peggy when he needed her? He would have killed for her inane chatter or problems to interrupt this conversation.

“I know, I know,” she murmured in concession. “You’re right. Just be careful, please. For me?”

“I am careful,” he said, wishing he could get away quickly. “I’m gonna go get ready.”

She nodded and smiled at him kindly. “You know, you are the hardest kid in the world to stay mad at,” she said, shaking her head.

“It’s a gift,” he replied, grinning at her.

“Your words, not mine,” she teased as he walked out of the kitchen. “And clean your room, would you?”

Two-Bit laughed. Like that would ever happen, his mother would die of shock if he did something like that, and they both knew it.

Two-Bit yawned as he finished his bottle of Pepsi. It was an unusually bright day for late October and he would not waste it. Being out of the house also meant the chance of his mother and him having a repeat of their earlier conversation was impossible.

It was the perfect time to case out a store; weekends were notoriously busy and it would be easier to sneak in and out unnoticed. He decided to wait until he was certain that last night was truly out of his system before he did anything though, but planning wouldn’t help.

He lit a cigarette after tossing the empty bottle in a nearby bin. Often he would spend time aimlessly walking around the town, it was a good way to meet people and to hear the latest news, particularly with the gangs. He made his way to a record store a lot of the greasers went to; it was always a good starting place.

He could hear music playing loudly even from several metres away, and grimaced to himself. He hoped his headache was over for the day.

“Two-Bit,” someone cried jubilantly as he walked in. Two-Bit grinned, it was as if he had been expected.

“Hey,” he said, trying to remember the guy’s name. It was Billy, or Ben, something like that. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” the teenager said loudly.

“Hey Billy,” the employee called from behind the counter. How he could raise his voice to be heard above the music so clearly, Two-Bit did not know, but he instantly admired that talent. “The record you wanted has just come in.” Billy! Two-Bit grinned to himself, feeling better now that he could identify who he was talking to. Billy smirked and walked over to the guy working there.

“Cheers, Marty,” Billy said loudly as he paid for it. Two-Bit watched the teenager pass the record—the Beach Boys of all things-- to Billy, a black tattoo of some word or something was visible on his forearm. Two-Bit wondered if it was a prerequisite that you had to have a tattoo in order to work in the store. But then he remembered a couple of the other employees and they weren’t tattooed, at least not that he could tell, so maybe it was just this Marty guy.

“So did you hear about Shepard?” Billy asked as he walked back to Two-Bit, holding the bag with the record he just purchased. He was probably hoping to divert attention from that fact that he had bought a Beach Boys album, which for any greaser, let alone a member of Shepard’s outfit was certainly not tuff.

“He’s been sentenced?”

“Six months,” he said dully. Two-Bit whistled, six months was a hell of a long time to be stuck in jail. Still, he knew that Tim would cope well there; he had the right mentality for war. As tough as Two-Bit could be, he wouldn’t do well in jail, he couldn’t bear to be locked up and told where he could and couldn’t go.

“Well I better go,” Billy continued. “Adam wants us all to meet at three.” Two-Bit nodded, it hadn’t taken Adam long to adjust to his new role, just as Two-Bit had predicted.

“Well, see you around,” Two-Bit said.

“Everything’s good round your end isn’t it?” Billy asked as he headed for the door. Two-Bit nodded, even if they weren’t okay he would not tell Billy McDean, who was perhaps as big a gossip as Kathy’s friend Alice. Besides, they were okay, no one had said anything was seriously wrong. Besides, everything was okay, and nobody had said anything differently.

“Enjoy the Beach Boys,” he called. Billy’s face when he turned around was priceless and Two-Bit cracked up laughing.

After Billy left, Two-Bit began to idly browse the shelves, wishing that he had perhaps not gambled all his disposable money away. Still, why should he complain when, as far as he recalled, he’d had a good night the day before? He considered taking a record or two, but that Marty kid kept cautiously watching him so Two-Bit left it.

The fresh air was one of the first things that hit Two-Bit on leaving the store half an hour later. He spent most of the time talking to people as they came in, and had also incidentally won three dollars in a few bets.

He always enjoyed hearing about what was going on around Tulsa. He considered himself an expert on the seemingly useless information of who had a fight with whom and why, which gangs were battling it out that week, who cheated on their girlfriends, that kind of stuff. The Dingo, in his experience, was probably the best place to go for that sort of information. A lot of the information he had was pretty dangerous to know and things could go horribly wrong if any of it got into the wrong hands. Two-Bit tried not to slip up, but even he had to admit there were times when he simply forgot who he was talking to and said something without thinking.

He decided to head back to where he had parked his car, then drive to the Dingo, or somewhere like that. Perhaps Charlie’s bar where he could play a little pool and maybe start to raise some money again so he could buy a record he had seen earlier, or petrol. His car needed gas pretty urgently, which was he had left it at Charlie’s.

“Hey, Two-Bit?” someone feminine called. Two-Bit turned around.

It took him a few moments to recognise her. She was leaning against the wall by a grocery store, a number of bags by her feet, and she looked bored. It was surely time for ‘Super Two-Bit’ to intervene; shoot, she even called to him like a damsel in distress would. He sauntered over to her confidently after a moment’s hesitation.

“Hi Two-Bit,” she said again as he stood opposite to her.

“Hey Bonnie. What are you doing round here, then?”

“I was babysitting for my niece this morning, so Dale dropped me off here to relax—well, recover-- afterwards,” she said. “And to get the lunch,” she added dryly.

“So, have you recovered yet?” Two-Bit joked.

She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow with a wry grin before shaking her head. “To be honest, not really. I hate grocery shopping. However I got some money out of babysitting and I was able to buy a couple of things I wanted,” she said. “And I did get to speak to you again outside of detention or a dull lesson, which is always nice.”

“Exactly.” He paused and looked down. “Bonnie, um ... how large is your family if all those bags are one lunch?”

“Oh, I had to get more than just lunch, of course. No surprise there.” She rolled her eyes and grinned at Two-Bit. “So, what brings you here? Need to pick up some milk and eggs?”

“No. Killing time, I suppose.” There was a long silence, it was not particularly uncomfortable but Two-Bit would have preferred some dialogue between them. He wondered if she would mind if he smoked, some girls get really stressed over cigarette smoke. He fought a smile as he remembered a girl he dated once who had feigned a coughing fit whenever he lit a cigarette, and then complained that her father hated cigarette smoke. Needless to say, the date had descended into a nightmare from that point onwards.

“How old’s your niece?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation open.

“Seven months. I think she’ll be eight months pretty soon ... I’m terrible with dates.” Two-Bit raised an eyebrow.

“How traumatic was babysitting her?” he asked lightly. He vaguely remember having to baby-sit his sister a few times in earlier years, it had not been successful and she had been a kid not a baby.

“Not too bad. She’s teething, which is a real headache, but she’s an okay kid as far as babies go.”

“So are you getting picked up?” he asked, wondering how it would be possible for her to walk to wherever she lived with that many bags.

“Yeah. It’s probably a good thing that I’ve got food because it’s the only guarantee Dale or Marty will come and get me. Well, I think Marty is working, so it’ll be Dale...” she trailed off and blushed. “I’m blathering, sorry.”

“No problem.” He was curious about her and wanted to get to know her more. Surely there was nothing to lose, was there? He exhaled slowly, silently deliberating the best course of action. There was to be no harm in asking her out just to find out more about her. One measly date did not mean anything, well if you were Annette it did, but he assumed --hoped-- that Bonnie was not someone who believed that as well.

Anyway, you couldn’t build anything on a few conversations and chance encounters. He decided it would for the best, it didn’t carry huge romantic significance at any rate and there was nothing to lose. He barely knew her, so rejection didn’t matter so much. Besides, he could blame it on the leftover alcohol still in his system if it was that disastrous; shoot, he could even joke about it. He could say, ‘Yeah I asked out that brunette ... a brunette, can you believe it?’ and everyone would laugh along and say something patronizing like, ‘good ol’ Two-Bit. You know what he’s like.’

“I was wondering,” he bravely began, pushing aside his fears. “I was wondering if perhaps you wanted to go out some time?”

“With you?” she asked, either taken aback or surprised, Two-Bit couldn’t tell and that worried him.

“Yeah,” he said, his courage fading and his thoughts instantly turning to damage control and how could repair the situation.

“Sure, I would love to,” she said brightly, completely surprising him.

“Okay …” He paused, unsure what to say next. It had been easier to talk to Bonnie before he had asked her, which understandably concerned him as he had only asked her out moments ago. “What about Tuesday?” That was a few days away and gave him time to talk to her more in lessons beforehand, or back out if he decided she wasn’t for him and it was a bad idea to even go on one date with her.

“Tuesday?” she asked slowly, looking at the sky. “I think I’m busy that night. Is Wednesday okay?” Wednesday was his night with Soda and Steve, and he would not be the lousy type of friend who backed out of tradition because of some girl suddenly came along.

“Sorry, Thursday?”

She nodded. “Thursday sounds good.” She smiled and wiped her brow dramatically. “ We had some pretty extensive negotiations there.”

“You bet,” he said, grinning with relief that it was beginning to feel easier to talk to her already. “LJV, eat your heart out!” She laughed.

A white Pontiac pulled up by the kerb and Bonnie sighed. “This is my ride. I’ll see you on Monday then.” She carefully picked up the bags.

“Do you want a hand?” he asked dutifully.

“No, I’ll be fine. Thanks anyway.” Her brother pressed the car horn and Bonnie blushed before waving at the car. “Bye.” Two-Bit grinned, waving lightly at her brother who was leaning his head against the window and looked either miserable or angry, when he saw Two-Bit he scowled. Great, clearly her brother was irritable and over protective, it was not the best thing in the world for Two-Bit if he was going to go out with Bonnie, even just once, for her to have a brother like that. However, he could have just been having an off day.

“See you around,” he said as he watched her open the boot of the car and place the bags in before getting into the passenger side.

The car drove off and he lit a cigarette, smiling to himself as he walked down the road. For that moment he felt completely desirable and nothing could touch him.