Movie-Star-Handsome |A Sodapop Curtis love story| [The Outsiders] {20}

When I came home that day, everyone was frenzied.

I had barely managed to pin Soda down and get him to calm down enough to ask him what was happening when tears started to fall down his face and he slid down the wall, holding his head. I kneeled down in front of him, curious. “We- we can’t… can’t find Po-Ponyboy or- or Johnny. An’ Bob’s dead- in the park, he’s dead.”

I stared at him for a moment before kissing his forehead and shooting up, running down the street. My fist bruised at the force I used to knock on Dally’s door and it was then that I realized that everyone else was there with me. I slammed my fist into the side of it for one last time before it opened and I was being yelled at to be quiet.

“WHAT DID YOU GIVE THEM?!”

Silence. I was met with it as his eyes narrowed at me, giving me a critical look. “What d’ya mean?”

“What did ya give them?! Why aren’t they ‘ere? I KNOW THEY CAME TO YOU, DALLY! YOU’RE JOHNNY’S BES’ FRIEND! WHA’ THE HELL DI’ YOU GIVE THEM?!”

“They gunna be ok—ya don’ need t’ yell so loud.” He pointed out, digging his pinky finger into his ear. “They dropped by Sheppard’s house ‘lier—I gave them some clothes and some money aft’ah they explained what happen’.”

“Don’ ya dare fucking kid me, ya idiot! I know ya gave them somethin’ else! Somethin’ they took t’ feel like they would be safe from the fuzz! What did you give them?!”

“My gun, sheesh, stop yellin’.”

Before I could do anything, Darry had punched him in the nose. “Wha’ did ya do tha’ for, Dally?!”

He was teary-eyed as I dropped my fists and turned around, going back to Soda. He took my hug gratefully, gently holding me against him as he sobbed, uncontrollably. “He could be hurt,” he muttered in my ear. “He could be dead. He’s never shot a gun ‘fore.”

I nuzzled my nose into his neck. “I know. He’s a good kid, Soda-honey. He wouldn’t’a sho’ i’ yet.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because he’s my best friend,” I pulled back and held his cheeks in both my hands so that he would look into my eyes. A few more tears fell down his cheeks before I continued, “An’ he’s no idio’. He taugh’ me, an’ not even a trained professional can do tha’. Soda, listen t’ me when I say that he’ll be fine. I’ve been on his side ‘fore, an’ there ain’t no reason for him t’ do anythin’ yet.”

He blinked his eyes closed, scattering the tears as he reached up and took both my hands in his, muttering his thank you as he pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me, protectively. He tightened his grip and let me hug him back, just as hard. He tucked my head under his chin and just held me there, letting me shut my eyes.

Darry didn’t beat Dally up any more than tha’ one punch, but tha’s ok, since that’s all the man needed before he started yelling. I ended up kissing Soda’s chin and getting out of his grip, turning around and patting my hand on Darry’s shoulder, making his yelling barrage stop as I kneeled down next to Dally. “You’re not gunna tell us where ya sent ‘em, are ya?” I asked, quietly, so that they had to strain to hear him.

“Naw.”

I smiled gently and looked him in the eyes. “Thank ya.”

“You’re thanking him?!” Two-Bit yelled, looking ready to beat me to a pulp. “Why?! He won’t tell us!”

“And because he won’t tell us it also means he won’t tell the fuzz!” I yelled back at him. “The boy’s’re safe, wherever they are! Ain’t gunna be found ‘cus’ o’ us, at least!”

Two-Bit seemed to take a step back, thinking it over as I turned back to Dally and held my hands out for him. He took them, letting me help him back up, for once. I gave him a gentle hug. “Thank you.”

“Le’ us wri’e a letter,” Soda said, suddenly. “Le’ us do somethin’ so tha’ they know what- what we’re feeling. An’ tha’ they still know we love them.”

Dally shrugged, like he had seriously been thinking about not letting us do it, which I knew was a lie.

We ended up with this:

Ponyboy,

Well I guess you got into some trouble, huh? Darry and me nearly went nuts when you ran out like that. Darry is awful sorry he hit you. You know he didn’t mean it. And then you and Johnny turned up mising and what with that dead kid in the park and Dally getting hauled into the station, well it scared up something awful. The police came by to question us—even if they hadn’t yet, we knew they would soon—and we told them as much as we could. I can’t believe little old Johnny could kill somebody. I know Dally knows where you are, but you know him. He keeps his trap shut and won’t tell me nothing. Darry hasn’t got the slightest notion where you’re at and it is nearly killing him. I wish you’d come back and turn your selfves in but I guess you can’t since Johnny might get hurt. You sure are famous. You got a paragraph in the newspaper even. Take care and say hi to Johnny for us.

Sodapop Curtis

I smiled and remembered about how when I was down, there was one line that would always cheer me up by Pony. I’m kind of shocked he didn’t use it earlier back when I was yelling at them for being greasers.

So I picked up the pen from Soda and scribbled at the end,

PS - Don’t let the world impassion you two too much, honey. Y’all are safe wherever Dally sent you off to—I know that. Come back soon, we love you both. Friends never say goodbye.

- (I drew a heart here) Gin

Soda smiled at it, though I’m sure he doesn’t know what impassion means, and we handed the note over. I reached up and hugged Soda with my one arm, leaning against him slightly. I had known that he was having trouble in his love life—his real love life, with that girl named Sally or Sandy or Mandy or whatever—because I’d caught him crying about it last night and said nothing about it and now Ponyboy and Johnny are gone.

I wanted to punch something—to scream—to cry—to go back to the Sheppard’s and pound on Tim’s chest until I passed out—to go back to my home, my real home, and pretend like this had never happened—to cry—to kick—to get drunk—to smash something—hell, I wanted to fucking study! But when I looked up into Soda’s eyes and saw the lost look deep in the dark-brown iris’ and realized that it was completely misplaced.

“It’s late.” I said, suddenly, breaking the heavy silence that had settled in on everyone. “We should all start heading to bed. Get some rest. Some of us have work, after all.” I nudged Soda, gently, watching as he looked down at me and nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed, making himself grin. That much was obvious as Dally forced everyone out of the house—albeit a little more drunkenly than when we had arrived—and I walked with him back to his house, because everyone was going to stay at the Curtis’ place, except me. But I didn’t tell them that. “We should go.”

I helped tuck the boys all in and waited until most of them had fallen asleep (I thought they had all fallen asleep, but I soon found out I was wrong) before I left, shutting the door behind me slowly.

I started walking and, to my surprise, found that Tim was standing in the vacant lot, almost like he was waiting for me. I didn’t spare him a glance or nothing as I walked up and threw my fist. He caught it and let me step closer, punching his shoulders until I finally found myself sobbing into his chest.

“They came to my place,” he shrugged. “Well, technically, Bob Merril’s, but I was there, too. We were all partying. They were real shaken. Would you stop crying, you baby?”

I wanted to beat the snot out of him for real as I looked back and glared at him before he sighed and pulled me close again, letting me finish.

“I figured you’d come walkin’ this way, so,” and he shrugged, like they hadn’t just killed a boy and run away.

“Tim,” I muttered.

“Yeah?”

I chuckled gently. “This reminds me of tha’ time I accidently shot tha’ guy in the leg.”

“An’ ya ran ‘way with Dally’s jacket, gun an’ the ten bucks in yer pocket. I ‘member that,” he laughed and I couldn’t help but grin at it. If he were to laugh more, he’d have a better time at finding a girlfriend and keeping her longer than a night of sex.

“I was so stupid back then.” I muttered.

“They’ll be fine, ya know tha’, right?” It was then I realized he wasn’t talking like he normally did, instead taking his time to enunciate and suddenly, I was being pushed away, shoved in another direction, forced into another chest.

I recognized the smell immediately and glared into it when Tim muttered about me getting his shirt wet. “Sonovabitch,” I muttered quietly and slowly tightened my grip. The man laughed a little, but it was obviously forced.

“Gin,” Soda muttered quietly, “why’re you out ‘ere?”

“I didn’ bother tryin’ t’ sleep earlier. I knew I wouldn’ be able t’. Why’re you ‘ere?” I heard the sound of feet and knew that Tim had left.

“I couldn’t lay still long ‘nough t’. I heard the door open an’ saw ya walkin’ down the way. Decided to follow you, sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I muttered, laying my ear against his chest until I could hear the beat of his heart.

“C’mon. Let’s go back. Yer startin’ to fall asleep.”

“I blame television.”

“Why?”

“Not sure, I jus’ feel like blamin’ it.”

He laughed, this time, whole-heartedly, and I took his hand in mine, letting him drag me back.