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Virginia Marjorie Curtis was fond of change— an interesting attribute that many people didn't partake in. She liked the idea of things evolving for the better. Sometimes she would look up at the sky, and sigh at the multitude of colors that would turn blue into black, thinking of all the dreamers in the world around her, striving to make a difference in a society needing reparation. That was the lightness.
Virginia liked to believe the sky was a canvas, vast and grand. The colors that evening was something unlike any other. It may have been the beauty of that day itself or the feeling of Tulsan comfort. The sun descended slowly as fresh colors brushed across the rich, blue canvas as if those rays were destined to create a great work of art— one given to those open to capturing simple moments in the soul. Her eyes were steady on the horizon, face aglow with the last orange rays before twilight called for a burst of tiny stars. Her lips bore the semblance of a smile, just enough to show she was enjoying her thoughts, whatever they were.
Next to her, Ponyboy who accompanied her shuffled closer so that she feels his presence, yet stayed quiet, allowing his sister to stay lost in the moment a while longer. It hadn't wrapped around the boy's mind yet— the fact his sister was leaving. Ponyboy was never one to doubt her ambitions or her will to succeed though it was hard to believe that in a matter of four days, she was off on a train to Tulsa International Airport.
She was off chasing the dreams she grew up holding onto.
"That was beautiful," Virginia suddenly remarked. She lifted the mug of warmed chocolate milk up to her lips. It was a peculiar choice for the evening but she couldn't resist. The summer heat had died down, leaving room for brisk autumn zephyrs and guiding her outfit. She felt comfortable in her long jeans and a red-and-beige flannel, her thick hair preserving heat around her neck.
"Yeah... it was." Ponyboy stared at his feet with a small frown etched on his face. The tips of his old tennis shoes tapped against a loose floorboard pushed down by a cinder block. He raked his fingers through his hair that was just a few more months away from shedding those awful, haunting bleached tips. It grew wildly now, tamed only by a nice dollop of hair grease and a lesson from his back pocket comb.
Virginia's brows dug together and she extended her foot out to push her brother's leg, grinning when he swatted it away like he was six again. "You alright, grease?"
He shrugged, slouching in his chair and raising his cigarette back up to his lips. He almost forgot he had it lit. "Sure. Just tired."
"C'mon, sourpuss," she teased, incessantly poking him with the toe of her boot. "Penny for your thoughts?" When he was silent, she tilted her head, smiling cheekily. "A dollar?"
"It's just— it's already Monday," he mumbled.
Virginia didn't need him to elaborate for her to understand what he was saying. Sighing, she extended her legs over his lap, chuckling when he shot her a glare.
