Abby (long version)

F O U R

A couple weeks later, the gang and I walked down to the vacant lot to play football. Or at least, so they could play football. I was feeling achy and didn't want to play. My excuse was that I was in a dress, and I couldn't play in what I was wearing.

When they started picking teams, Johnny came over to me. "Aren't you playing?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "Nah."

Johnny had an old football in his hand. "Don't they need that?" I questioned.

"This is a different one. I figured you wouldn't be playing."

He stepped back and tossed the ball to me. "Thanks," I grinned.

I passed it back to him. We just kept tossing it back and forth. "How are you this fine afternoon?" I asked him.

"I'm doing alright. You?"

"I guess I'm doing okay," I lied.

Johnny tossed the football to the side, confusing the players that weren't paying attention. He walked toward me and took my hand.

"You know, you're a terrible liar," Johnny said with a gentle smile.

"It's worked for a couple weeks," I returned.

"Not really."

"Well, it's nothing I can control, so I'm ignoring it," I said quietly.

"Okay. But if you ever need anything, I'm right here, whether you tell me what's going on or not," Johnny said, putting his arm around me.

I nodded. "Thanks, Johnnycake."

I retrieved the football and passed it to Johnny. We kept up our little game of back and forth in silence, occasionally stealing glances in the other direction, watching the other boys.

"You should go play football with them," I said, gesturing towards the gang.

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine. I think I'm gonna walk home, anyway," I said.

"Okay. Well, I'll see you later, then," Johnny said.

"See ya."

I started off in the direction of the Curtis house. The walk was short, but I was taking it slow. My legs were aching, and I didn't want to push myself. I heard the screech of tires, and a silver corvette rushed by.

"Greaser!" the driver yelled out the window.

I picked up the pace a little, but my fast walking wasn't faster than the car that had turned around. It stopped in the middle of the road, and three guys got out.

"Isn't this a pretty greaser," one of them snarled, a smile creeping onto his face.

"This pretty greaser is taken," I said instinctively. I didn't even realize what I'd said until the words came out of my mouth.

"That's a shame," the Soc said. The other two snickered.

I started running as fast as I could toward the lot, ignoring the pain in my legs. "Darry! Soda! Johnny! Anybody!" I screamed. I tripped on a rock and fell to my hands and knees. I looked up to see the gang running toward me.

It only took a couple of them to scare the Socs away. "You leave her alone!" Johnny screamed. The boys all looked at him. He rarely talked, let alone yelled.

Darry helped me to my feet. "You okay?" he asked, obviously concerned.

My knees were scraped and bleeding real bad, and bruises were already starting to form on my torn-up hands. I winced and nodded my head, earning skeptical looks from a couple of the boys.