Disclaimer- The only person I own in this fanfic is Larkin David Cutis. I own none of the other characters. S.E. Hinton does.
Authors Notes- Sorry, Pony, Darry and Soda won't be showing up for a few chapters. Probably around Chapter Four they'll show up.
"James...we need to sit down and talk." Mom said, motioning for me to sit down on the couch beside her. "James...well, we'll have to stop calling you James, but...um...hmm..." Dad began. By now I was wondering why they had to stop calling me James and what exactly was going on.
After a few minutes, Dad's unsure voice shattered the uneasy silence that had descended upon us over the last few minutes. "James...I don't know how I can tell you this...the truth is, well..." Dad tried unsuccessfully at beginning again. Before he stated to stammer again, I cut in. "Dad," I said, and mom and dad looked guilty and apprehensive. "What is going on? What do you have to tell me?" I asked.
Dad sighed, and began to talk again. "James, this isn't easy for us to tell you and it probably won't be easy for you to hear since you're almost 17, but...James, the truth is, you have a twin in Tulsa, Oklahoma. You, but not the twin, were put up for adoption. So you and your twin were literally separated at birth." Dad said, in a hurry.
"This is a joke right? You're kidding me, is that it? This whole adoption thing and me having a twin but we were separated at birth...it's a joke, right?" I said, willing it to be true. Mom and dad were my mom and dad, not some other people I didn't even know. Both mom and dad shook their heads. Why had my mom not cared enough to keep me? Why did she keep the other twin if she couldn't keep me?
"You are a member of the Curtis family of 819 Kilgore Ave., Tulsa, Oklahoma. You have three brothers. Darryl Shayne is, I believe, 20, Ponyboy Michael is 14, almost 15 and Sodapop Patrick is...you're twin, younger then you by 5 minutes, about." Mom, who hadn't said a word since this conversation, said in one breath. It was almost to fast for me to catch.
Then something occurred to me. James Phillip Anders must not be my real name. It must have been a name given to me by my adoptive mom and dad, Phil and Kelly, who I had called mom and dad up until today. "What's my real name?" I asked, icily. Probably something I hate, I thought bitterly. "It's Larkin David Curtis. We just called you Lark up until we decided to change your name." Kelly answered. "When was that?" I asked, stonily. "It was about two weeks after you came to us. You were three days old when you came to us." Phil answered.
"Can I ask you why you waited until I was almost 17 to tell me all of this and why not when I was seven or eight?" I asked. I was sure they didn't have an answer. "Well, seven or eight would be a sensible age to tell you all of this, but we didn't want you being known as the 'adopted kid' in you classes. We wanted you to have a normal childhood, or at least as normal as it could be, and that was for nor to tell you. We only told you now because we felt you had a right to know." Phil said, reasonably.
"What about my biological parents?" I asked. Phil and Kelly looked at me. "We haven't heard from them in years...but...I'm sorry...We saw their obituaries in the paper a year or two ago." Phil said. "Then why didn't you tell me about all of this a year or two ago? 14 is better then 16 to learn about all of this, you know.' I said. This was great. All in one day I fund out I have three brothers, I'm adopted, and my parents are dead. Neither Phil nor Kelly answered the question.
"James..." Kelly began. "It's Larkin!" I spat, and both Kelly and Phil looked taken aback. "Okay, Larkin...please don't get mad at us! We had only good intentions and we meant the best for you." Kelly pleaded with me. Suddenly I was filled with raging anger, mad at Kelly and Phil for not telling me until today, only three months before my birthday, October 8th, when I would turn 17.
"Not get mad? How can I not get mad/" I exploded suddenly. "I'm almost 17 years old and you finally tell me that I'm adopted and my three brothers are living on their own because my parents are dead? How can you expect me not to get mad? What the hell is wrong with you?" I yelled. "James..." Phil began. "LARKIN!" I yelled madder then ever. "Larkin...please! There is no need for cursing! Please calm down!" Phil tried to take control of the situation.
I ran upstairs to fill my backpack with about four pairs of jeans, a pair of drawstring sweatpants, about five tee-shirts, a sweatshirt and nearly five hundred dollars I had been saving up since I was twelve. Kelly and Phil pleaded with me not to go, but I wrenched out of their grasped and headed for the front door. There was a train to Tulsa leaving in about an hour with my name on it.
Authors Notes- Well! I hope you liked it! Please R&R!