Trouble |The Outsiders|

17. Christmas In Tulsa

"I'm fucking sick of it, Tim, I'm not a fucking kid!"

Curly threw an arm over his eyes lazily, not caring much for his siblings' petty argument. Had it been any other fight, Curly probably would've just hidden in his room or leave the house altogether. But this wasn't a fight about Angela getting friendly with a guy in the gang, and it wasn't about Tim drinking much more than usual. This was an argument about Abigail, and it had been going on for six days now.

"Are you eighteen yet?" Tim snapped. Angela didn't respond. Instead, she turned around and walked into the living room and sat down on the couch at her brother's feet. Culry groaned when he heard Tim's heavy footsteps follow her, all he wanted was some peace and quiet.

"You ain't even seventeen, Angela. I'll treat you like a fucking adult when you act like one."

Don leaving had diffused a bit of the tension swimming through the house, but not by much. Curly could still feel Abigail's hand on his shoulder, he could still see the cold glare she sent their father, despite never meeting him before. Part of him was surprised at how quickly she came to his defence. Then again, he'd seen what Abigail did to a couple of socs when they sent Danny home with a black eye. It may have been seven years ago, but he could still hear the way the soc groaned when Abigail kicked him. If Sodapop and the rest of the Curtis gang weren't there to pull her away, he would've gotten a lot worse.

"I just wanna know why you didn't tell us!" Angela shrieked again. He didn't like the way she said "us". Of course, he wondered why Tim decided to keep it a secret, but Curly liked to stay on his brother's good side. Right now, both siblings were surprised Tim hadn't yelled so loud the windows shattered. He stormed around the living room until he was standing in front of his sister. "Because it wasn't important! What was I supposed to say?"

"I dunno," Angela huffed angrily, "maybe that we had another sister? Maybe that she lived four blocks away, and her brother was in your fucking gang? Maybe that her name was Abigail, and I've been friends with her for the past ten years?"

Curly groaned again, a piece of hair spinning around his finger. He could hear Tim breathing, he could imagine smoke coming out of his ears, too. Angela was leaning back on the couch, a steely-eyed glare fixed on their brother.

"Well it doesn't fucking matter now, does it?" Tim asked. "This doesn't change anything."

"It's gonna change one thing, is her name Abigail Mason or Abigail Shepard?"

"Shut the fuck up, Curly, I swear to God-"

"It's an honest question," Angela snickered, ignoring Tim's look of disapproval. Then she sighed and threw her hands up in the air before pushing herself to her feet. "Sixteen years, an' it's all been a lie."

"I didn't fucking lie to anyone," Tim growled again. Curly opened one eye, just enough to see Angela stand in front of him, hands on her hips. "How is that not a lie?"

"A lie would be if you asked if you had another sister and I said no."

Angela's mouth fell open as Tim left the living room and walked back into the kitchen. He stood in the doorway now, a bottle of tequila clenched in his fist. Angela's voice lost its anger and malice as her fists opened, her hands drummed against her legs lightly. "Whether you like it or not, Abigail's still our sister-"

His laugh sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Instead of having his hands over his eyes, Curly pushed his palms against his ears, waiting for it to stop. Tim looked the most like Don out of any of his kids, they all knew it. When they were younger, Angela didn't talk to her big brother much. One night, after too many drinks at Buck's, she admitted it was because Don looked like Tim.