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Perhaps in a different time, Virginia Marjorie Curtis would've run straight to the source of the problem, the epicenter of the raging earthquake as if she could calm the tectonics on her own. Her mind told her otherwise, her temper barricaded by her toughened skin, smoothed and hardened by years of experience and blossomed maturity.
Ponyboy was driving, thank the good Lord. If she had even attempted it, the newspaper tomorrow would've been cluttered with the details of their frenzied demise.
When exactly he had swiped Darry's keys was a question for the ages but Virginia tried to block out any and all minor questions as they quietly crept down the street, the truck's engine grumbling and coughing. As soon as they passed old Mrs. Friedman's abandoned house, Ponyboy nearly slammed the gas and they tore down the street. At some point, the youngest Curtis siblings had become masters at evading late-night lectures on why they were even out.
Immediately, Virginia grabbed onto the metal handle on the roof of the vehicle. "Christ, Pony, not that fast! The cops!" she cried out. "It's raining— I said slow down!"
"You sound like Darry," her brother groaned, though he brought down the speed.
Virginia rolled her eyes at his theatrics. She was in no mood to jest and shifted as the water that seeped into her clothes squished against the old seats. The once nice leather had hardened and it was like sitting on a rock. Virginia squinted, trying to look past the rain droplets that dribbled and collected on the windshield. Hazy flashes of other headlights and some red and blue neon signs of late-night diners and laundromats stung her eyes.
Suddenly, a realization cracked open like the first light of day after endless night, making her lean back in her seat. Virginia had no idea what she was going to do.
"Pull over," the woman suddenly blurted. She was staring straight ahead, practically at nothing, her teeth endlessly gnawing on her lower lip.
"You— what?" Ponyboy stammered, alternating his gaze from the road to his sister.
"Park on the side of the road."
"I know what 'pull over' means, but why?"
Not giving him a response, Virginia groaned and opened her door. A bolt of lightning coursed through the black sky, followed by a clap of thunder. She jolted as the crack echoed, the rain pouring down on her endlessly. Still, nature's commotion, the flabbergasted questions from her little brother, and the cold shoulder she was receiving from her older brother were no match to the utter chaos erupting in her body.
Virginia barely looked both ways before sprinting across the rain-soaked road to the payphone hung up on the side of a store's wall. The sound of the water collecting on the gutter made a hollow crackling sound as she patted her pockets for a nickel. She usually had some form of change lurking around in—
