Miss Marley |The Outsiders|

03. Corner Of North And Louis

The tension inside the sleek black t-bird was slowly eating away at her. Marley kept her hands folded delicately on her lap, occasionally toying with the edge of her skirt. Beside her in the driver's seat, Tim clenched the wheel in his fist before releasing and blowing a puff of smoke past his lips. They drove the familiar gravel roads in what could only be called awkward silence.

Months ago, there was a time when the hours Marley spent with him were everything but awkward. They'd use this car as an escape. When Tim was behind the wheel, he could relax. He didn't have to keep up with his stone-cold facade, he'd switch between sips of cheap wine and exasperated sighs. Tim had been raising his siblings ever since they were born.

Sometimes, usually in the dead of night, they'd drive out to the lot and lay together in the backseat. Through the back window, the endless black sky and her countless stars were visible. Science had always been her favourite subject in school, especially when they studied the cosmos. It was the only time in the beige, plain building that Marley could keep her mind tethered to the present. Laying against Tim, with his steady heartbeat filling her ears, Marley would repeat the lesson, never catching the amused smile she sent her way.

Marley would hold the bottle loosely in her fist, letting it swing back and forth in her grasp as he raked his calloused fingers through her hair. Tim would mutter quietly while she kicked her shoes off, placing her feet on the backseat with her head on his chest. Times like these were always so peaceful. Quiet and calm when Tim wasn't a vicious criminal and Marley wasn't running after her brothers and friends. All they had to do, was exist in each other's company and listen to the tales painted in the sky.

"When'd you get back?" He asked gruffly, tapping the butt of his cigarette against the wheel. He didn't take his eyes off the dark road, he had no need to. Tim Shepard was cold and calm, the kind of man to know you better than you know yourself. He knew Marley was nervous.

He knew she wouldn't look at him, instead, she'd keep her eyes glued to the window even though there was nothing to see. He knew she was biting at her lip, she wouldn't stop until warm blood coated her tongue. As much as he tried to forget, Tim couldn't deny that he knew Marley.

"Seven," she murmured quietly. "I took a bus."

"Where'd you go?" His questions were blunt and emotionless, a skill he perfected a few years before his father vanished for good. Marley took a breath, straightening her posture before letting her shoulders cave in again. Her suitcase rattled against the floor. "Oklahoma City," she admitted.

"What the fuck were you doing out there?" He scoffed.

Marley knew she was trapped. The only thing she could really say now was the truth. But the truth meant admitting what she had always feared, what she wasn't ready to accept herself. "What is this, an interrogation?" 

"Just tryna figure out why you took off for a year without tellin' anyone."

His voice was cold and harsh, just like it was all the times they crossed on the street. It was like a hand clenched over her throat, making it tight and constricted as she took a breath and the car turned left. Using the little light provided by Tim's headlights, Marley recognized the street she grew up on. The times she ran this street with her brothers, sometimes running from other kids or for no reason at all. A ghost of a smile pulled at her lips but was immediately squashed as the car lurched to a stop at the corner.

Marley faced her childhood home. The rusted chain-link fence creaked back and forth, someone had forgotten to close it for the night. Past that, the yard was a mess of growing grass and weeds, poking through what was left of the February cold. Marley couldn't see the front door from the car, but she could see her brother's silhouette through the window and the warm light surrounding him. "I just had to get away for a while," she told Tim, now facing him.