Chapter One: A Blow to the Head
Disclaimor: If you think I own Outsiders you are extremly thick and need mental help as soon as possible.
"Hey greaser." A voice drawled behind me and I froze. One would think after all these years of fighting between the Socs would come up with a better line then that. I was kind of surprised that that was the first thought that popped into my head. I was hanging out with Two Bit way to much.
I turned around slowly, hooking my thumbs into my pockets, trying to look tough. But I could feel my heart speed up as my eyes fell onto the three muscular guys surrounding me. Shit, this wasn't good.
It was like they could smell my fear; I could tell by the way they were grinning. One of them moved forward. He was a tough looking Soc with fire red hair and a matching t-shirt. "Scared little greaser." He said his voice full of sarcasm. "There's nothing to be scared of, we just want to have some fun."
"Fuck off." I said, keeping my voice low so they didn't notice my voice cracking. The words had little effect on them, and it just made them advance closer. My eyes flitted around, desperately looking for a way out of this. I could not get jumped; I wouldn't let it happen again.
One went to grab my arm and I took off like a bullet from a gun, putting a good distance between the three guys before they noticed I had moved. But I could here there shouts and pounding feet as they started after me. They weren't giving up without a fight.
I tore around the corner and leaped over the front of a parked car. If I could make it to the house I was safe. Jut a little bit farther. But my legs were already starting to complain from the work as I tried unsuccessfully to draw in breath. Damn, I really needed to stop smoking.
I used a light post on the street to make a sharp turn, my breath hitching in my throat as I caught sight of the house. Finally, a bit of luck. Maybe my life was finally turning around and things would go my way for a change. No more Darry yelling at me, no more getting beat up by Socs, no more death….
CRACK! It felt as if my head was torn off my neck as something hit it, hard. I felt the object shatter as it connected with my skull, showering me with tiny pieces of glass. The whole world spun beneath my feet as spots appeared in my vision. I barely realized I had stopped running or the fact that I was falling to the ground. I was so shocked I couldn't even think.
But as my skull connected with the ground the pain was suddenly there. I tried to draw breath to scream aloud, but it wouldn't come. I just toppled over into darkness and thought no more.
I looked up from the sports section, my brow furrowing as I looked at the clock. It was late, too late. A year ago I would have expected this from my youngest brother. But after Johnny and Dally's death and his illness, he had been amazingly on time. I loved not having to yell at him all the time. But it seemed like my luck had finally run out.
Stay calm. I told myself firmly. He is only a half hour late, just relax. It was the first week of summer after all, and he had been so good. Maybe he had met some friends, went to get a drink and had lost track of the time. Any minute now he would come bursting through that door, shouting apologies, ready for a shouting match with me.
Wouldn't he be surprised if I understood?
The look I imagined on Pony's face was good enough to settle my nerves. I turned back to the newspaper in front of me and began to read about the football game that had happened yesterday.
Give him fifteen minutes, and then go haul his ass home.
I said goodbye to Steve as we parted ways at the corner and began to slowly walk home. The night was perfect, and those few drinks at the bar were really helping me enjoy it. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and began to whistle as I walked. Not to far off I could here some kids shouting. Sounds like they were playing football.
As the house came into view I saw the lights were still on in the living room. I froze. This meant either one of two things. Either Darry wasn't home yet and Pony was waiting up for him, or it was the other way around. Neither option was a good one.
I threw open the door and almost fell on my ass on the porch as Darry suddenly appeared in front of my face, his eyes blazing. I heard him mutter a 'damn' as he reconized me, and then he went back to pacing back and forth in the livngroom. It was what he did when he was in a very, very bad mood.
I closed the door behind me firmly and took in my oldest brother. His face was the perfect picture of rage. His hands were shoved into his pockets and looked like they would tear them off at any second. there was a deep crease in his forehead, and his eyebrows were drawn so close together it looked like he only had one
"Pony's not home yet, is he?" I said simply. Darry didn't even need to respond, I knew the answer. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair as i plopped down on the couch. "When was he due home?" I asked after a moment of silence.
"A hour and a half ago." Darry said bluntly.
Inwardly I groaned, this was not good. "Have you heard from Two Bit, he could be there." Darry shook his head and I gave up with the talking. I had run out of ways to defend my brother's absence and knew we would just have to wait until he got home to find out what had happened.
Oh boy, what had my little brother gotten into this time?