BLACK SHEEP | DW

052.

"but I would never kiss anyone who doesn't burn me like the sun."
jens lekman, and I remember every kiss

"my dad came by earlier," she told them, shaking her head. "they won't let me see johnny, wouldn't let him either. is he okay?"

two-bit gave a crooked glance. the type of look that tried to mask what he was thinking but failed desperately to do so. the thick layer of silence that fell upon the room with white walls, the way ponyboy cleared his throat, it spoke more than two even had to.

"you're in the paper," two-bit changed the subject, unwilling to meet her simple demand of an explanation for the behavior. "you're a hero, all of you are."

but he wouldn't let her see it.

venus figured if she was in the newspaper, her father would have came to the hospital with it and shown it off like a trophy. or maybe two would have let her read it. but she couldn't know what was really said about her.

she couldn't know how her dad got fired.

she couldn't know that everyone else had become aware of her family— that her dad, and bill, could be sent to jail for it.

"your mom's here," ponyboy blurted out, making two-bit send a quick jab to his ribs, in which he let out an ow. "sorry... i saw her in the lobby asking for you."

her dad, bill, she couldn't stay with them.

they were now the target of brutality. what the police deemed "homosexual misconduct". they'd find any reason to lock them away, even with all the ruckus since the stonewall riots that summer.

"what's she doing here?" venus asked, and half hoped it meant something other than what her mind had already assumed.

the somber expression on their faces spoke when words can not. "doc says you're gonna be just fine. we just saw Dal, he's gonna be fine too," two-bit redirected once again.

"why's my mom here, two-bit?" she asked.

intaking a sharp breath, he finally let it out, the words she dreaded more than anything in the world. "she's taking you home with her," he answered.

"home?" venus scoffed. she wanted to say more. maybe that no place has ever felt home like tulsa has. maybe that no place will ever feel like home where Dally isn't. but she hadn't. only huffed under her breath once more, "home."

"i'm eighteen in one month," venus told them. "i'm not going anywhere."

the way her heart picked up, announced by the beeping on the monitor, to the wheezing cough in her lungs, the two boys could see she was getting worked up over it.

"okay, venus," ponyboy said, standing at her side. "okay."

he placed something next to her, an object. venus hadn't looked at it but didn't want to. if it was some attempt to make her feel better, if they didn't have words to say that might make everything seem fine, she didn't want it.

"we're gonna have it out with those socs," two kept speaking. "a rumble. won't be the same without johnny or Dal," he laughed, "but we'll stomp those rich kids real good."

"whatever," venus sighed, leaning back into the mattress and turning her gaze back to the window that overlooked the trees past the parking lot.

figuring it was best to leave her at that, and after sending each other a quick, twisted glance, the two greasers had left her room quieter than they had entered.

in a whirlwind, venus had went from on top of the world, to plummeting toward the ground in just days. how could everything change so quickly?

how could having it so good become laying in a hospital bed breaking to pieces.

she didn't have the answer.

the closest thing she had to her sanity right now was the small object that sat on the edge of the bed.

it was a picture.

a star, the morning star. the planet venus.

written on the back:
venus shines brighter than any other planet.
we call it the morning star, the evening star, but either way, there is no moon able to cloud it.
venus is alone, but she still shines.