Miss Marley |The Outsiders|

07. Positively Perfect

"I oughta beat some sense into you," Marley warned seriously, dropping the grocery bags onto the counter. Curly stood next to her, digging through the brown paper bags searching for the frozen bag of peas Marley purchased a few minutes prior. "Don't worry 'bout it, Tim'll give me an earful," he groaned.

His long, dark curls shone with grease and blood as he wrapped a cloth around the peas before holding them to his aching nose. Silently, the young teenager passed groceries to the girl as she moved around the kitchen quietly. There was a ghost of a smile pulling at her lips, the same one Curly saw on Pony's face when they were about to do something stupid. She knew she shouldn't laugh, but the situation was funny. Marley stood in front of the sink, her sleeves pulled to her elbows while she rinsed apples under warm water.

"I'll never be able to go to that store again," she sighed. "I could forget about the road flare, but did you have to take their shopping cart?"

"What else was I supposed to do, leave it there?" Curly questioned sarcastically. Marley turned, her lips twisted into a grin as she slapped him with a dishtowel. "Yes!"

He slapped the dishtowel away, rolling his eyes as he did so. "Whatever."

Marley turned back to the sink, missing the mischievous smirk on Curly's lips.

"Tim told me you were back."

"That's what you told me," Marley huffed. To her side, drops of water rolled over the apples as she polished them dry with the towel. Carelessly, Curly's hand shot out, grabbing an apple. "Wouldn't shut up about it," he insisted. Apple juice ran down his chin as he wiped his face lazily. Marley cocked an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"Wipe that grin off your face and tell me what you want."

Curly stopped smiling and placed the apple back on the counter as he rummaged through his pockets. There was still a roguish glint in his eye, the kind to make Marley's stomach churn. Held in the boy's bruised and bloody hands, was a small pink box.

"You came all the way home 'cause you got knocked up, didn't you?"

The boxes were on display at the store, near other toiletries like toothpaste and mouthwash. The small pink packaging, along with the name, had drawn her attention. "The Predictor" a do-it-yourself pregnancy test. The rational part of her brain screamed as her fingers roamed over the box, the chance she was pregnant was slim to none. She and Jamie rarely slept together, and he used protection every time.

But the familiar knot of doubt twisted in her stomach. Morning sickness was a symptom, and she could barely remember the last time she had her period. Pushing the thought away and dropping the box back onto its shelf, she convinced herself it was nothing more than stress.

Too confused with her own feelings, Marley had forgotten who she entered the store with. A carbon copy of Tim Shepard, complete with a watchful gaze and wondering mind, solving the puzzle before you had time to collect all the pieces.

"I ain't pregnant," she said bluntly. Curly tossed the box into the air before letting it drop into his open hand. Under a series of bruises, his blue eyes bore into hers. "How do you know if you don't take the test?"

He threw the box again. It landed against his palm. Thump.

"I'm not pregnant, Curly. I was just curious."

Thump.

"What are you doing back here, anyway? Caught Pony on the way to school-"

Thump.