Darry Curtis and Grace Micheals had to grow up faster than most. With working all the time and keeping the gang out of trouble, neither of them have time for romance.
Things get worse when Johnny kills a soc and has to go on the run with Ponyboy. In...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
1965 ◇ The Curtis House
!Warning: do not read if you have etemephobia! Skip to ◇
Straight after she was finished locking up the salon, Gracie raced home. It felt like her stomach acids were eating her up from the inside and at any minute, she was about to vomit.
She got like this whenever she lied, like the guilt of not telling the truth was too much to bear. Today, Gracie couldn't stand when Shelly started bragging about her perfect life that it just burst out of her. She never should've said it, she never should've used Darry like that.
As she speed-walked down the sideway, she could feel the acidic bile rising up her throat. Knowing that she wouldn't make it into her own house on time, she burst open the gate of the Curtis house and ran towards the door.
"Heya Gracie," Sodapop greeted her from where he was sitting on the living room couch but she didn't respond and continued to sprint up the stairs.
Gracie just made it into the bathroom on time. As soon as she kneeled down infront of the toilet, she began to puke today's lunch into the toilet bowl. She continued to throw up until she had nothing left in her stomach. That's when she heard a knock on the door.
"What's wrong, Gracie... you're not pregnant, are you?" Sodapop joked from the other side of the bathroom door.
Gracie wiped the corners of her mouth with some toilet roll before standing up and flushing the toilet. "Is Darry here?" She asked turning on the tap and rinsing out her mouth.
"Nah, he left for work twen'ny minutes ago" Sodapop replied. "Why is he the father?" He laughed slightly, altough part of him was being totally serious.
Gracie opened the bathroom door and stood facing a smiling Sodapop."I'm not knocked up, Soda. 'M just not feeling too hot," she cut past him to go down the stairs. She was cutting it fine as it was and would have to hurry go get to her shift on time.
"Okay then," he shrugged before following her. "But if my brother finds out that I let you go to work while you're sick, he'll skin me. Maybe you should just stay here," he spoke, though he knew that the only way Gracie would miss work was if one of her limbs were falling off.
Gracie took a glass from the Curtis's kitchen press and filled it tap water, before chugging the whole thing. "I'll be alright. Anyway, I've got a day off tomorrow so I can worry about being sick then,"
Sodapop laughed and shook his head. "Alright, alright. Well at least let me drive you, since I assume your car is still a piece of shit,"
"Thanks, I appreciate it. Hey, why haven't you or Steve gotten around to fixing it for me?" She joked.
Sodapop shot her a glance. "We're mechanics, not miracle workers. C'mon," he replied, grabbing his keys from the table and heading out the front door.
