A Boy Named Pony - A Sequel to East West Sunset

Chapter Twenty-Four - Betty

I stood on the ice rink like a fool, staring after Ponyboy with the hot, injured slash of indignance bleeding throughout my chest. In the handful of months we had been going steady he had never once spoken to me like that. 

Desperately, I tried to search for a reason for it, perhaps something I'd said that caused him to lash out - it had to be my fault. I thought back to all the fights I'd have with my father: usually it was something I'd said that set him off. Ponyboy was probably like that, too. I cursed myself for my insensitivity, my stupidity, my ignorance. Maybe I shouldn't have assumed he was lying. Maybe I shouldn't have questioned him. Maybe ...

My mitten felt too large around my hand without Pony's to keep it company. And I hadn't noticed how bitterly the wind was blowing until now. I ought to get home.

Almost in a daze, I skated off the ice and took a seat on a bench to put my shoes back on. I kept running over our short conversation in my head, trying to pinpoint the exact point when I'd messed up, but the icky feeling in my gut became unbearable. I was desperate to think about anything else to distract myself from the fact that this was me and Pony's first major fight - and I had no idea how to even begin to rectify the situation. 

I shoved my feet into my tennis shoes and laced them haphazardly. My toes and fingers were too numb so I figured it didn't matter too much. I'd be taking the bus home, anyway.

I returned the skates at the rental counter, offering the clerk a faraway smile, before shoving my hands into my pockets and trudging down the street. "If it's this cold, there should at least be snow," I thought in an attempt to distract myself from my worry and guilt. "I mean, with snow even if it's cold it at least looks pretty." But the grass was frozen and bare, the sidewalks dry and frigid. As I made my way down Main Street, the lighted Christmas wreaths in the shop windows, and festive ribbons hanging from the streetlights, looked oddly out of place without a soft white blanket of snow. The detail had never bothered me before, but now I couldn't look at the merry decorations without thinking they looked strange.

When I reached the bus stop, I paused. I couldn't stomach heading home without making sure that everything was all right between me and Pony - I had to go see him. He'd said that he would be hanging out with his gang at his house for the rest of the night; I decided I'd head over there, smooth things over, and then return home. He didn't live too far from downtown, after all. 

Feeling a little better about the situation, I spun in the direction of his house and set off at a quick pace. I knew once I found him there and apologized, everything would turn out okay. He'd grin that lopsided grin of his that I loved so much and then say, "Aw, Betty Anne, that's okay. I didn't mean to snap at you. We're all right," and things would go back to how they were.

Yes, that's exactly what would happen.

I was panting by the time I ran up to the Curtis house - I was no long distance runner like Pony, that was for sure - and to my relief, there were other cars parked in the driveway. It looked like the gang was gathering at the Curtis's after all.

At the sight, a huge weight flew off of my shoulders. I knew I could trust him!

I bounded up the front steps, my heels still feeling heavy for some reason, and hesitated only slightly before knocking on the door. I stared around the yard while I waited for someone to answer my knock. The lawn was scraggly and frozen over, spotted here and there with long-dead clumps of dandelions or thistles, although the flower beds looked to have been weeded carefully all summer long. The mounds of chocolate soil were only dotted with even rows of some kind of perennial. 

I spun to face the door again as I heard someone pull it open with a shuddering creak. It was Sodapop, Pony's startlingly handsome older brother, and his eyebrows shot upwards when he saw me standing on the steps.