Miss Marley |The Outsiders|

12. The Fool

"C'mon baby, just you and me. We'll come back all the time, it'll be fun. Besides, didn't you say Darry's been workin' himself to death every day since the accident?"

"It's okay, honey, just breathe. I'm not going anywhere, I'm right here-"

"I need to speak will Miss Marlene Curtis? There's been an accident."

Everything was wrong and Marley knew she deserved it. Running away was arguably the stupidest thing she'd ever done, but that didn't hold a candle to the way she felt now. Sure, she was never the smartest kid on the block, but how was she to imagine everything would be fine?

She could have laughed if it weren't for the terror clouding her mind and blocking seven pairs of eyes from her line of sight. The voices all jumbled together into one sound, a series of words and reaching hands. "Soda, just let her breathe for a minute, alright? Give her a sec-"

She pushed her hands towards her face. Mascara stained her cheeks, not that it mattered now. The boys surrounding her knew her well before she started painting her lips red and thickening her lashes with mascara. They had even seen her dance around the kitchen, her baby brother propped on her hip or sneaking around with Sylvia. Thankfully, this was the first time any of them caught her in the front seat of a Shepard's t-bird.

The trembling, terrified face sobbing in front of them now was a scene reserved for her brothers. They muttered amongst themselves softly, much too quiet for a rag-tag group of boys. Sodapop was reaching for his sister again, desperate to try and comfort her the way she always had him. Steve didn't even need to say anything, the firm hand on his buddy's shoulder was the only sign Sodapop needed to pull away.

Two-Bit had two comforting hands across Johnny and Ponyboy's shoulders. Pony was chewing at his nail frantically, unable to tear his eyes from his sister as she twisted her shaking hands through her hair. Behind them both, Darry stood motionless.

He should've known better. He should have listened to her more, paid closer attention. The eldest son; now the guardian, was the one to hurt her the most. Standing in the living room, he could still imagine the day she came home. 

"Six pounds, three ounces," Momma told Grandma Jean. At first, it was impossible to imagine the bundle of blankets in his arms, all warm and cozy, held his baby sister. It was impossible then to imagine all the bitter words that would fly over her tongue before she was even a teenager. How she'd storm passed him on her way to school, how he never even tried to help her. 

It was impossible to imagine they weren't little kids anymore. That Momma and Dad wouldn't;t rush in soon, and scold him for making his little sister cry. His throat felt dry, just as it did the day he heard Marley sob into the telephone in Coach Wilson's office two years ago. 

His feet carried him forward. Around him, reality seemed to fade to static and the boys around him parted like the Red Sea. His hands circled her wrists effortlessly and dropped them to her sides. Her hands shot up again instantaneously. This time, instead of finding her face, Marley wrapped her arms around her brother and cried into his chest. "I-I...I'm so sorry, Darry."

"It ain't your fault," he whispered into her hair. "C'mon honey, tell me what happened. Please?"

She nodded in his arms, not caring about the eyes watching her closely. It had been years since Darry had spoken so softly, so genuine. She melted into the familiarity as he brushed her hair back from her tear-stained cheeks. "It was Tim, wasn't it," Steve interrupted bitterly. Marley was quick to turn her eyes to her brother, blotchy and red as she shook her head frantically. "No, i-it was someone else, he-"