ITS ABOUT TIME ➤ Ponyboy Curtis

1

𝙶𝚎𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚊 𝙳𝚊𝚠𝚗 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚠𝚜

The hinges on the porch swing squeaked quietly while I read. It was a cool summer day—Wednesday, June 30th, 1965 to be exact—and I was relaxing on my front porch, enjoying a book I had just got from the library.
It was surprisingly quiet in the neighborhood, which wasn't totally normal. Most of the time you could hear dogs barking, someone's radio sitting on a windowsill, kids screaming with friends, or someone working on their car.
I didn't mind the usual noise, but enjoyed the silence when it came. When I had noticed the lack of ruckus, I immediately grabbed a book and went outside. Something about being the only one outside was calming, peaceful. It felt like I was the only one on the earth and that I could soak up everything around me undisturbed.
My house was on a one-way avenue that came off a normal road. It was an old, dark blue farmhouse that was next to a similar looking one and across the street from another house, facing its left side. My brother Keith (most call him Two-Bit) was over there now. He spent most of his time hanging there, since that's where his buddies lived; the Curtis brothers. If he wasn't with his friends then he was either bugging me or sleeping on the couch. Even though he was eighteen, he acted like a child. But I loved Two-Bit, even if he was a pain in the ass.
Two got his nickname from never shutting up and always getting his two-bits worth in. Him and I had the same toothy grin that looked good on him and weird on me. We also shared the same sense of humor and the same rusty hair, but mine was more red and his is more brown. One thing that we don't have in common is our personalities. I'm more reserved, while he's always putting himself out there—constantly talking, getting in fights, smart mouthing cops, and always out on the town. I suppose that's why I spent most days alone while he goofed around with the Curtis boys across the street. We were different.
The three Curtis boys were nice, always friendly, but I didn't spend too much time with them. Along with Two-Bit, there were a few other guys that hung around there. I knew their names, talked to them when it was polite too, saw them when they were over our house, but I didn't hang out with them like Two-Bit did.
He had invited me to hang out with them a few times but I didn't think they would want to spend quality buddy-buddy time with their friend's fifteen year old kid sister. I've always had an issue with feeling unwanted. My father ditched us when I was young and I think that caused me to think I was unloveable. My mom thankfully stuck around but she wasn't very fond of me—never told me she loved me, barely ever spoke, and looked at me like I was roadkill. My father left only a few months after I was born and she just chose to blame  it on me. Obviously all of that made me feel like a burden who nobody would want around. I put up with the feelings by forcing a smile and reminding myself that I had at least one person who loved me: Two-Bit.
  Two-Bit and I had a good bond. growing up our mother wasn't around a whole lot—she was either working or drinking with that weeks boyfriend—so it was just us. Two feels more like a friend than a brother. He makes me laugh and we hang out all the time, but he's also my brother who protects me and cares about me. I wish that someday my kids would have the same bond that Two and I had. One of my big dreams was to own a horse ranch and have a nice family; a loving husband and a few kids.
   My reading was interrupted by the middle Curtis brother, Sodapop, calling to me from across the street. "Hey Georgia, come here!" He yelled and waved his hand, beckoning me to walk across the street.
  Shoving my small book in the back pocket of my jeans, I made my way across the small dirt road. Sodapop had returned to the front door on the other side of the house, holding it open for me as I entered. I didn't know why he called me over and was starting to get nervous. I couldn't think of a reason that they would want me here.
I stepped into the living room and I saw my brother sitting down with 3 other greasers: Steve Randle, Dallas Winston, and Johnny Cade. They were the boys I had mentioned before, saying how I barely knew them.
Steve Randle was the first one to catch my eye. He was sitting on one of the two couches in the living room, watching T.V with Dallas and Johnny. He was 17 and pretty tall. He had jet back hair that was swirled with grease. I knew that Steve liked cars and hot wired one for Two-Bit a few years back. He was known to be midnight auto supplier. Two-Bit had told me he could lift up a hood of a car quieter than anyone.
On the other couch sat Dallas Winston. Everything about his face was sharp, and his hair was un-greased and wild. I didn't know much about him but I did know a lot about his track record. He was a tough guy who didn't have any interest in following the rules. People acted like he's some monster but I just thought he acted like every other hood in town. I had only spoken a few words with Dallas, never a full conversation.
Dallas was sat next to Johnny Cade. When I said that I didn't know the boys, I wasn't talking about Johnny. Johnny was a good friend of mine. He was on the small side and his skin was brown from the sun. We both had bangs, although mine were a style choice. Johnny would spend the night at our house quite often due to his bad home life. I had gotten to know him a over the past few years and knew he was a good, sweet guy. His home situation and a pounding he got from the Socs caused him to be suspicious and always on his toes.
The Socs (short for the Socials) where the rich kids from the West side who like to drive around in their fancy cars and jump Greasers. They wore sweaters, madras, and dress shoes. They kept their hair short and neat, unlike Greasers. Greasers are what these guys were. The word is used to describe us kids from the East side. Greasers shoplift, drive souped-up rides, get into fights, and don't follow the law. The guy-greasers keep their hair long and wear jeans and leather jackets. Greasy girls wear dramatic eye-makeup and tease their hair to the extreme. Socs threw parties and wrecked houses, just like us, but were seen as assets to society while we're labeled as filthy criminals. We were all teenagers who lived in Tulsa, with only a few differences, but that didn't matter. Once a label is put on you, you can't get rid of it. Even if it's untrue. So greasers were greasers and Socs were Socs.
Anyway, Two-Bit was the only one sitting on the floor. He was drinking a beer and staring at the television, not even realizing I walked in. I looked to the right where the other two Curtis brothers were occupied in the kitchen.
   The eldest, twenty year old Darrel, was making dinner which looked like some sort of roast. He looked over at me and smiled. "How ya doing Georgia?" He asked politely while continuing his dinner-making.
I smiled back, "I'm good, how are you?"
      "Alright thanks, just fixin' up some supper."
   Along with Johnny, Darrel was a friend of Two's that I had spoken too more often than the others. He's a giant who looked older than he actually was. Darrel kept his hair short, which I've never seen another greaser do. He was a nice guy but he looked real mean.
I turned my attention to the youngest brother, Ponyboy, who was fifteen and already looking at me. Ponyboy smiled but turned away quickly. He was awfully cute. His hair was slicked back and brown, while his eyes were a misty sage color. I've been told by Two-Bit that he wasn't much of a talker, so I didn't think anything of his lack of conversation.
I shifted my attention back to Sodapop, who had closed the door and stepped inside. Sodapop had earthy-gold hair that was combed back straight. He was a cute guy, seventeen and built, who was always friendly and smiling.
"We saw ya sittin' by yourself so we though you'd care for some company." Sodapop said, answering the question on why I was called over.
"Oh I'm fine, I was just reading." My voice came out as a squeak, making me stop before I could tell him I would be on my way out.
He reassured me while sitting down on one of the couches next to Steve, "Well you looked a bit lonely, sitting out there quiet as ever." He pointed behind me and out a window that gave a perfect view of my front porch.
"Well you're kind of supposed to be quite when your reading." I laughed sheepishly, deciding to sit down in the armchair I was standing next to.
Steve joined in on the joke, "I guess that's why you ain't ever reading huh, Sodie-Pop?" He said, elbowing his friend in the gut.
Sodapop just laughed and slapped him on the back of the head playfully. "I talk just as much as you do." He said before turning to me, "Ponyboy's into reading too, y'know."
I looked over at the boy sitting at the the kitchen table, "Really? I didn't know you liked to read." I expressed, slightly surprised that a good looking boy like him enjoyed reading. Most kids our age would never be caught dead reading for fun.
Ponyboy looked at his brother with wide eyes before turning to me, "Yeah. I just started reading Gone with the Wind." He said. The copy he had in front of him looked like it was going to fall apart. It had seen better days.
"Oh I liked that book," I said with a smile, "I read it last month."
Two-Bit looked at me for the first time since I had walked in. "No need to brag, Georgia." He snickered with a teasing smile.
"Yeah well at least I can read." I quipped, scrunching my nose.
A few of the boys laughed. "I can tell humor runs in the family." Sodapop snickered, "I think your sisters funnier than you Two-Bit."
"Yeah, and no doubt smarter." Dallas added.
"Yeah well at least I ain't given up on school like you, Dally." Two said from his spot on the floor.
"Being a junior at eighteen isn't something to brag about." I said with the same teasing smile he gave me a moment ago.
        The boys laughed at my comment before gabbing quick insults at each other jokingly. I smiled, watching the guys laugh and joke with each other. I thought it sweet how these boys were like a family.
I was happy that Two-Bit had such a close brotherly bond with the boys. With our mom always working, we grew up with just each other. Even though we saw her, late at night after work, it still felt like our family was just us two. We stuck together, but Two-Bit found a family and I was happy for him. I was fine with knowing he had what I didn't.
"So," Sodapop started, "What do ya like to do other than read?"
"I like listening to music and I'm really into cars."
Steve looked shocked "You like cars?"
      I hadn't known many girls to be interested in cars but I still didn't understand why he was as shocked as he was. Yeah it's not common, but it's not impossible.
"Mhm. I really want a  chevy impala. Probably a '59."
"Yeah those are tuff, but I've always liked Ford Thunderbirds." Steve jabbered. "I saw one the other day with the most far out paint job I've ever seen in my life."
"Yeah!" Sodapop said, remembering the car Steve was talking about. "We were walking down The Ribbon and saw it covered in some cool pattern that went on the edge of the hood like this." He moved his hands and drew out shapes with his fingers.
I was not following, I just smiled and nodded. "Sounds pretty."
"Oh it really was! I wanna get my own truck someday. Steve has a truck that I really like."
Steve scoffed, "Yeah, he's always trying to make bets on it."
"What type of truck is it?" I questioned.
"Chevy 3100."
"'57?"
"Yep. I got her two years ago and she's still as clean as a whistle." Steve boasted. He was one of those guys who called their cars "she" and treated it like their child.    
     Two-Bit let out a rather loud laugh. He was telling Johnny and Dallas about how we stole two cases of pop from a convenience store a week before. "You shoulda seen that woman's get up. She looked like the long lost twin of Bozo the clown! " Two-Bit burst out laughing. It really wasn't that funny. "She might as well have been blind. Didn't even see we both had a case under our jackets. Made a big bump right here." He slapped his stomach.
"Nah, you're just real good. You're maybe the best in the business." Johnny said.
"Maybe?" Dallas countered. "Two's the damn near best shoplifter I've ever seen."
"I call him a kleptomaniac." I laughed. "He can't go one day without stealing something."
Two-Bit laid down on the floor "And I ain't ashamed." He said while crossing his arms behind his head. I enjoyed talking to the boys and wished I had excepted Two-Bits invitation to hang out with them sooner. Even though I didn't know them a whole lot, they were easy to talk with. I could see why Two spent so much time with them. This is where I should have been all along; in a messy room full of roughhousing boys. It felt like home already.