Trouble |The Outsiders|

20. Conditional Love

Dark clouds filled the pale blue sky as a fierce howling wind echoed through the streets, threatening to rip the shingles from their rooves and shatter windows in their frames.

It was a perfect replica of how Abigail felt.

She watched the trees bend and pieces of garbage being pushed over the dying grass in her backyard as she washed her dishes. It was cold and much too quiet for her liking, but she couldn't muster the strength to turn on the radio. Instead, she stood in silence and let her thoughts run wild.

She thought of all the nights she spent on the Curtis couch, the days when Eddy's temper got the better of him and it wasn't safe to be home. She thought of the proud smile on Mrs. Curtis's face when she brought over her report card, just like everyone else.

Abigail thought of the days she spent with those boys. At the time, they didn't feel like memories, they were just something friends did together. Like going to the river, or the Dingo, or patching them up after some socs couldn't keep their mouths shut.

Now Abigail thought of their disgusted faces. The hurt they disguised with bitter words and scornful eyes. She wondered if she would ever see Sodapop's smile again, or hear one of Two-Bit's corny jokes. She wondered if Darry would still let Danny sleep on the couch when he needed it, even after everything she did to hurt them.

Abigail couldn't tell if the headache she felt was from her hangover or tears. All she did know, was that there was no possible way she could cry anymore.

Yet whenever she pictured the tears welling in Soda's eyes, her heart shattered a little bit more. Abigail dropped the plate she'd been scrubbing for the past ten minutes when there was a knock at the door. Followed by some aggressive yelling. "I know you're home! Open the fucking door!"

With a roll of her eyes, Abigail made her way to the front door and pushed it open.

Standing on her front doorstep was Dallas Winston with a bloody nose and black eye. His white t-shirt was stained red with crimson blood as it dribbled down from his nose and lips. Abigail recognized a crate of beer clutched in his bruised knuckles, he didn't seem embarrassed that he wanted to drink at three in the afternoon. "Let me in," he ordered, "I'm freezing my balls off out here."

"Charming," Abigail hissed as she slammed the door and Dallas dropped onto her couch. He mumbled something she couldn't hear before cursing and pushing the heel of his hand against his nose, trying to stop the blood from seeping onto her couch. She reappeared a moment later with a tired smile and a wet rag to hold against the greaser's face.

"Who rocked your shit this time?" Abigail asked while pushing Dallas's hair back from his face. He refused to speak until she removed the blood-soaked rag from his face. With an expectant look, Abigail raised an eyebrow as Dallas twisted the cap off a bottle and took a sip. "Steve," he finally admitted.

A knot of worry twisted in her stomach as she twisted a lock of hair around her finger and accepted the bottle Dallas passed her. "Why would Steve wanna fight you?"

She already knew the answer, it was like a symphony screaming at her in her mind. Regardless, she stayed silent and took a small cautious sip of her beer while Dallas combed his hair back lazily. "Called Sodapop a stupid piece of shit."

"Sodapop ain't stupid."

The familiar words rolled over her tongue before Abigail could even think them through. It was a mantra she'd been repeating over and over again, ever since the first day she met him. Sodapop was exciting and charming, he was funny and sweet, but he was never the smartest kid on the block. Whether Abigail was standing against her classmates, teachers, or even her father, she was always there to defend him.