Chapter 8

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"Wait wait wait, what?"

"You heard me right. I looked like any little Soc girl, with my pretty blonde hair and big eyes and clean dress and shiny shoes."

"So you're-"

"That's not all the story."

"So-"

"I'm getting there. Remember that girl, the one who all the teachers loved, and she could have a temper, but she stood up to bullies? Soc or Greaser? And she just had these big blue eyes, just like a doll. And then her father was murdered, and she moved away?"

"Are you saying that-"

"Hi Johnny. It's me, Estelle Parker."

He took a long look, finally seeing it.

"It really is her. You're her. What happened? What happened so that now you're one of the tuffest Greasers, the one who's always the life of the worst parties?"

"Life, I guess. And here we are now. Runaways, and one of us killed a man and one of us ready to."

"So, you're what, seventeen?"

"Gosh, I haven't really been counting, living here by myself. But I guess, yeah."

"What do you want me to call you?"

"I need to keep my identity a secret, keep calling me Babydoll Dalton. And keep calling me a boy, too."

Ponyboy walked back in, and immediately saw the looks on their faces.

"What did I miss?"

"Not gonna lie, you missed a lot, Pony. Don't worry, I'll tell you some other time."

He didn't quite buy the answer, but he went ahead and grabbed some more food as well as a bag of chips from Babydoll's bag.

"So what are you two doing to stay occupied?" Babydoll asked, changing the topic.

"Not much, we're reading a book though," Ponyboy replied, through bites of food.

"What book?"

"Gone with the wind."

"I've never read that one. Is it any good?"

"I think so."

"Also, y'all's hair looks somethin' terrible. You used your knives to cut it didn't you?"

Ponyboy scowled.

"Oh, touchy subject? You look good blonde Pony, it's just uneven as hell."

"We did the best we could, it ain't easy to saw through hair!" He protested.

"I know, but thankfully for you, I've got a pair of scissors. And I swear, if you don't let me fix those monstrosities, I'll cut it while you sleep. You look like mushrooms, but not like the Beatles, like those funguses that grow on feet."

____
After Babydoll tidied up their hair a little bit, he rummaged through his bag and pulled out a small handheld radio.

"I only got so much charge for this thing, but for now we can keep updated and shit," he said with a grin.

"What can we get out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"Not a lot," Babydoll admitted. "But you can at least kinda hear some of the news and sometimes some music'll come in too."

"Anything good?"

"I mean, probably not by your standards, they play a lot of Beatles. Sometimes Elvis, sometimes some other people, I don't listen enough to have much of an opinion. That being said, once I get bored over bickerin' about music, I also brought my guitar."

Ponyboy and Johnny gave him a look like he was stupid.

"What? If I'm on the run from the law, I'ma at least have fun with it."

"Anything else in that magical backpack of yours that we should know about?"

"I dunno, probably some survival stuff. Oh, and a harmonica. I've got a harmonica, too."

"Why did you need to bring a harmonica?"

"Because I didn't have a good reason not to. Now. What are we doing, this lovely day? Sitting and moping and remembering horrible things we've done, or doing pointless things to make better memories?"

"Well what are we gonna do? Dally said to stay here out of sight," Ponyboy said.

"You two feel free to do that. But he didn't say that to me, so I'm gonna go sit in the sun and play guitar like some old hick."

"But what if someone sees or hears you? We're here so we don't get found."

"No ones looking for us here. You two don't match your descriptions, and they don't even have one for me. It's fine, for now at least."

"I sure hope you're right," Ponyboy grumbled.

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