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It was a fate worse than death. Or so it seemed. In any case, the feeling of hope being slowly drained was a burden like none other. A world that was once illustrated in the most precious of watercolors, so unique and gentle, became gray and hollow.
Virginia's eyes slowly opened, her cheek smushed against the warm pillow cradling her head. If the damn sunlight hadn't broken her out of a depressive state, it may as well have been the consistent pounding on her bedroom door.
"I know you're in there!"
Dallas, she thought sharply.
"I'm not leavin' till you open the damn door! I swear it, kid, I'll break it—"
Virginia scowled, pulling her blanket over her bedhead though it failed to muffle the vexing barrage of knocks on wood. She grit her teeth as they grew louder and faster, finally ripping the quilt away and bounding out of bed in her pajamas. As soon as she opened the door, however, she felt another surge of anger course through her at the sight of Dallas' smug face.
"Superman said you're sick," he held up a large brown bag with a receipt from Dairy Queen, "bacon, no tomato. Ate half the fries on the way."
"I'm not hungry," Virginia muttered, offering him what she could muster for a smile that looked more bitter than welcoming.
He didn't give a second thought before moving past her into the room despite her disbelief. Without realizing she was still wearing her old pajamas, she begrudgingly tucked her hair behind her ear, refusing to think about the shocking revelation uttered by Two-Bit not too long ago.
"Man, you wouldn't believe the line," Dallas remarked casually, lowering the greasy bag onto her desk— more specifically on her biology homework.
"You shouldn't be here," she sighed. "I'm sick— contagious! Throwin' up everywhere."
Dallas had already opened the bag, taking out a paper-wrapped hamburger. The savory aroma spread through the air. "Might have to heat the thing up, you got any ketchup?"
Virginia pressed a hand to her aching temple, closing her eyes. "I don't want any—"
"Ate half of mine on the road, cops thought it was a heater." Dallas held up another burger, this time wrapped messily because he had taken a few bites out of it before tucking it away. He wrapped his mouth around the corner, chewing loudly. "These are fresh, kid, take one—"
Virginia silently walked towards her bed, getting down to her knees and reaching underneath the chipped frame. Dallas raised an eyebrow when he heard a clinking, then hardened as he saw her pull out a bottle full of amber liquid. The worst part was, it was half empty.
"Got another one?" he requested as he crumpled up the foil wrapper and failed to make a winning shot into her overflowing trash can.
She bent down again, her arm sweeping across the dusty floor until her fingers latched onto the cold neck of another bottle that she passed to Dallas. It was almost hard to sneak them from the fridge because Darry had hardly let her out of his sight until he left for work with Sodapop. Ponyboy didn't know what to do, poor kid, so he had journeyed for the advice of Johnny Cade, another empathetic soul. Two hours passed and she found herself confined to her bed, the only comfortable corner of the world. Her eyes were sore from crying, forehead pounding with a headache that came and went— it was like she was plagued with the flu.
