Survive: A Darrel Curtis Love Story

Chapter 5

~ Chapter 5 ~

Blair Creed's Point of View

The door opens almost immediately as if someone was expecting me to show up. As soon as I see their face I know it must be Darrel. Ponyboy said his eyes were cold and mean-looking, but all I see right now is hopefulness and softness. I see that hope shrink when he sees that it's me. Was he expecting Ponyboy and Johnny? He probably was. 

"Do you need something? I think you might have the wrong house, " Darrel says, looking over my head and around behind me. 

"731 St. Louis, right? You're Darrel?" Darrel furrows his eyebrows at me suspiciously and nods. "Can I come in?" He steps back and lets me in. The screen door slams loudly and I flinch. 

"What's going on?" Someone stumbles down the hallway haphazardly with jeans hanging low on his hips. Just by his facial features, I know he's Sodapop. Ponyboy said he was good-looking (he actually described him as looking kind of like Apollo and I could see why) but he is cute. He is really cute. 

"Don't know," Darry says, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. Someone sits up from on the couch and with a quick glance at his hair, it is clearly Dallas. "What are you doing here? Why?"

"I know where Ponyboy and Johnny are, " I admit. "They-"

"Where?" Dallas interrupts harshly, jumping up and towards me. 

"Let me finish. God-" I feel cool silver on my throat and strong hands on my arms and torso, pinning me to the door. Dallas looks right at me and snarls, "Where are they?" I feel blood dripping down my neck and down my shirt to my bra. I look up and swallow, letting it cut me a little more. 

"Get off of her, Dallas!" Sodapop shouts, grabbing his shoulders and yanking him back. "She knows where they are!" Darrel jogs into the other room and comes back with a washcloth. My fingers graze the oozing cut, but I retract them when he puts the washcloth on my neck firmly with his own hand. 

"Damn it, Dallas. You don't just pull a knife on a chick like that," Darrel grumbles. His warm breath hits my cheek and sends shivers down my spine. "Are you alright?" He grabs my hand and puts it against the washcloth to hold it there. It's scratchy and painful. 

"I'm fine," I mumble, pulling it back to look at the blood. 

"You know where they are?" Soda pop asks softly with the same hope that drained from Darry's eyes when he opened the door and saw me. I nod, but my eyes stick on Dallas. I don't trust him. He still has the knife in his hand. He wipes the blood on his jeans. 

"Yeah," I murmur quietly. "You know, killing me wouldn't've done you any good because nobody'd tell you where they were. You're lucky I left my blade with them." Johnny buried him the night after he got there. He couldn't stand seeing it, so buried it for him behind the church. 

"Where are they?" Darry asks. 

"They're with me. Not here, my place. The cops ain't gonna find 'em," I answer. 

"Of course she ain't telling us, " Dallas grumbles, "You're lucky I didn't cut ya worse." 

"What a way to make someone talk, Dallas," I snap. "They told me about you." 

"Well maybe if you'd just tell us, I wouldn't have cut you, kid," Dallas retorts. 

"I'm older than you, watch yourself. I didn't come here for you," I argue back. 

"How old are you?" Soda asks. 

"Doesn't matter." I tear the pages out of the notebook, leaving the first page with the train schedule and address. I shove them towards Darry's hand and he grabs them hastily.