Sing me a love song || Sodapop Curtis |

I

Ponyboy Curtis was walking out into the sunlight as he does almost every week. He escaped the darkness of the building as he walked out, turning the corner and walking past the large mirror. He walked down the street and through crowds of people. Once again his head was in clouds.
But Pony was brought back to Earth when a tuff, white Mustang started driving slowly behind him. He walked a little faster than before, avoiding the gazes of the socs he knew were in the car. The Mustang began to drive right next to him. He walked faster and faster and faster, until he made a break for it. He sprinted down the street, past buildings and houses, into an alleyway, and into a neighborhood before he was met with a dead end. Ponyboy turned around to see three socs staring right back at him.
"Hey, grease." One sneered, pulling out a blade. Ponyboy backed up against the wall. The soc grabbed him by the collar. Ponyboy tried his best to look tough, like they weren't scaring him, but it wasn't easy. The soc brought his blade to Pony's neck and he held back a whimper. Sweat began to build up on his forehead and neck.
"Oh for god's sake, leave the kid alone." A voice said from behind. A girl not much older than Pony was walking up. She was tall and thin, but with a sturdy build at the same time. She had long curly blonde hair pulled back with a red bandanna tied around her head.
The girl brought a cigarette to her lips and swung around a bat she had in her left hand. It was dented and dirty, clearly used. The socs glared and hissed as she pushed through them.
"Get out of our way, greaser." One hissed. She sighed.
"See, I would, but you guys are the ones who broke my bedroom window the other day."
"This is none of your business, skank."
"It actually is." She scoffed, handing her cigarette to the boy behind her. "So piss off!" She swung her bat at the one in the middle. It collided with his head, providing a hard clang and he fell to the floor.The others stumbled backwards slightly. She walked up kicked another in the groin. He groaned, slowly dropping to his knees. She swung her bat at the last one before turning around.
Awkwardly, Ponyboy handed the cigarette back. She took it and held it between her fingers.
"Uh, thanks." Ponyboy fumbled.
"Don't worry about it." She shrugged, taking a long drag on her cigarette. "You walkin' alone?" Ponyboy nodded.
"Not smart." She chuckled, "I'll walk ya home."
The girl turned around, kicked one of the socs in the head as he started to get up, and walked over the other two.
"My name's Valerie, but you can call me Val." Ponyboy nodded.
"I'm Ponyboy." Valerie cocked an eyebrow and gave a bitter grin.
"No shit? Are you being for real?" She chuckled. Ponyboy nodded. She laughed a loud, bitter, hearty laugh before nodding.
"It digs."

When they made it to Ponyboy's front lawn, they were immediately met with Darry storming out and Sodapop following him.
"Ponyboy," he scolded, "I told you to be home in time for dinner." Ponyboy grimaced.
"Sorry, Darry. I ran into some socs on my way home." Darry frowned and looked at Valerie.
"Who's she?"
"That's Valerie, she helped me." Darry sighed and rubbed his templed.
"Thank you." Valerie shrugged.
"Don't sweat it." She turned to look at Ponyboy.
"I'll be outta your hair now," she ruffled his hair. "Don't get into any more trouble." And off she went.

Valerie walked the streets toward her house. It was run down and broken. The grass in the yard was barely even there any more. She opened the creaky door, the scent of booze filling her nostrils. Her dad was flopped onto the couch in a dirty white tank top and cargo shorts. She scoffed and bent down to pick up the empty beer bottles next to the couch. Valerie went into the fridge and grabbed two beers for herself. Then, she walked into her dad's room and grabbed some cash from his wallet. Valerie picked up her bag and guitar case and walked out of the house, letting the door slam shut.
This was a normal routine for her. She would come home to her dad, who was normally either pissed of or drunk, and find another reason to not come home for two days. She'd take his alcohol and money and sleep in a lot or underneath a tree. Valerie would get get high, boozed up, or both and live life as what she was, a hoodlum.
The sun had already begin to set as she walked to the parking lot. She laid down her bag and sat down next to it. She pulled out her guitar, the only thing she owned that was worth having, and leaned against a tree. It was a clean and shiny Gibson Hummingbird with light wood and a thin fretboard.
When Valerie was 7 her mother left to pursue her dreams in music. She left the guitar behind for Valerie as a gift, something to remember her by. Valerie strummed the strings softly, humming a random tune as she did. By now, the sun was done setting and the stars were shining in the sky. She finished the last of her beer and looked up at the stars, clicking her tongue.
"The stars don't know how lucky they are," she mumbled. "I'd kill to be one of them."
Valerie put her guitar back in it's case and used it as a pillow, resting her head on her jacket. And she fell asleep. Cold, lonely, and broken. Just like she did every night. Just like she was destined to do for the rest of her life.