Abby (long version)

T H R E E

I felt better when I woke up the next morning, except that I felt a little achy. A hot shower fixed that pretty quick, or at least made it better. I was awake before everyone else, so I had the bathroom to myself.

I searched the closet for something to wear, sifting through numerous dresses and outfits. I finally picked out a light pink skirt and white blouse.

I put on just a little more makeup than usual, trying to hide the tense, tired look etched on my face. I quickly curled my hair and left it down, letting it cascade down my back in gentle waves.

I walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen to start breakfast, but Darry had beat me to it. "Good morning," he said, only taking his eyes off the pancakes for a moment.

"Good morning," I replied.

I walked over to the sink for a drink of water, rehydrating myself after the night before. It was pretty quiet-the other two boys were either asleep or getting ready in their room, and the rest of the gang hadn't shown up.

"I'm going shopping before work today. If you want anything, just put it on the list," Darry said, gesturing toward a small paper on the counter.

I grabbed a pen and walked over to the list. Did I need anything? I mean, they had clothes and makeup for me to use, and I didn't have to buy my own food anymore. I just wrote "notebook" at the bottom and walked into the living room.

I sat down on the couch and opened up the biography I was reading. Ponyboy and Soda walked out of their room, Soda walking into the bathroom and Ponyboy making his way into the living room. He had homework due that he hadn't finished.

"Ponyboy?" I asked.

"Yeah?"

"How different do you think an autobiography would be from a biography?"

"I don't think there are any big differences apart from the author. Why?"

"I was just wondering," I said.

I kept reading, making mental notes of all the elements it contained. I turned the last page, reading the final sentences. I closed it and returned it to the shelf, scouting out a dictionary and thesaurus to use later on.

"Breakfast's done," Darry said, poking his head in the room.

I got up and joined the others at the table. "Don't the other boys usually join you?" I asked.

"Well, Two-Bit probably overslept, and Steve saw how sick you were yesterday. I don't know where Johnny is, and to be honest, I'll bet ya Dally's in the cooler again," Sodapop said.

I nodded. "You don't seem concerned, though."

"This happens all the time. He did something, he got caught, he pays up. Out of all of us, Dally's the most likely to get out unscathed," Ponyboy said.

"Well, I guess that's good, then."

We finished breakfast, and I helped Darry clean up. "I'll be back in a bit. Just running to the store," he said, shoving his wallet in his pocket and grabbing the keys to the truck.

Sodapop was ironing his shirt in the laundry room, but I knew he had the radio on in there. The Rolling Stones was on with the volume at max, and Soda was singing along. I just hoped he didn't accidentally burn his shirt or start a fire when he wasn't paying attention.

"Soda!" I yelled. There was no reply-the music was too loud for my voice to be heard. I walked into the laundry room and picked up the iron, standing it back up so it didn't burn the ironing board. "Sodapop Curtis, you be careful!"