Miss Marley |The Outsiders|

09. Teasing Fate

The gravel shook as a car rolled up the street. Steve dropped his arm from around Marley's shoulders as she wiped her eyes, expecting her brother's truck to park in front of the house.

The smell of smoke and burning paper was slowly wafting through the air as both teenagers quickly rose to their feet. Marley stared down at her shoes while Steve brushed the last few ashes off his jeans. The sky was dark as the last rays of sun fought desperately against the thick clouds rolling over the east side. Now that they were standing, Marley and Steve could recognize the car pulling up to the house, and the person behind the wheel.

"Shit," Steve cursed, running a hand over his jaw. The stones he'd watched moments prior shifted under his weight as he took a bold step forward and cupped a hand around his mouth. "Dally ain't here, Tim. Go home!"

The greaser leaned against his car slyly, a toothpick between his chapped lips. He ran his fingers through his hair before his eyes found Marley. At that moment, his grim demeanour almost faltered. She always had that effect, no matter who she was with. He would have said something to her first if it weren't for the boy next to her. "Don't fuckin' lie to me, Steve. I ain't even here for him-" Tim paused, shoving his scarred hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. "-yet."

Steve shrugged, an annoyed scowl on his face as he turned to face Marley. She could see it in his eyes, the concern that never left. All she could offer him was a kind smile and a promise. "I can handle Tim, Steve. Why don't you go back inside, make sure Two isn't drinking the gravy by the gallon?" Steve nodded and turned on his heel. The second his eyes left hers, Marley walked down the familiar gravel path like she had a million times before. Tim was no longer leaning against his t-bird, he was leaning against the chain-link fence, watching the empty street. Once she was in earshot, he spoke again.

"Now this is how I remember you."

"You don't look that different either, hotshot."

The black leather jacket was a staple of life on the east side. Same with the filthy blue jeans and worn-out shoes, stained with dirt and blood, just like the last time she saw him. Identical to his younger brother, Tim's dark hair was a mess of curls held back with a generous amount of hair grease. His most distinguishing feature, besides the striking blue eyes all the Shepards shared, was the long jagged scar stretching from his temple to chin.

Marley remembered the night he got the scar well. They were fifteen and the Curtis' phone was ringing off the hook. On the other end, Curly was trying his best to keep his brother awake and stop blood from soaking into their carpet. After Darry answered, he was the one to drive Marley to the Shepards' house, a bag of bandages and aspirin in hand.

"So," he scoffed, "what've you been up to?"

She crossed her arms over her chest as Tim pulled his hands from his pockets and rested them atop the fence. Just like his brother, amusement was evident, even if he did hide it better. "not much," Marley explained plainly. "Went grocery shopping for Darry, did the dishes, put the rest of my stuff away-"

"Cut it out, Marley, I know you saw Curly."

Biting her lip, Marley folded her hands in front of her and stared down the road. The street was abandoned, growing darker with every passing second. Yet, she could feel a million pairs of eyes on her as she stifled a laugh. "Are my brothers watching us?"

Tim sighed. His warm breath landed on his hands, as well as Marley's as he craned his neck to find the small kitchen window. All he could see was a soft yellow glow and a silhouette turned away. Grinding his feet back into the gravel, the greaser shook his head. "No, just us."