bexley curtis ✰ || the outsiders

twenty - five

I bit my lower lip with the thought of Dally comforting me the other night - I know I need to tell him what's been going on and why I've been isolating myself. I shaked my head and returned my focus to the moment.. to the track field where Pony is doing his first track race of the season. But I can't get the thoughts out of my mind. I've never had such a hard time keeping my focus. When I'm not thinking about Dally and Frank I'm thinking about the past, about the arguments, about Erik. Seems like it happened long ago.

"Hey," Two-bit breathes in my ear. "Are you doing alright?"

I looked over and broke into a warm smile, "Yeah, I'll be fine."

The sun shined down on his rust colored hair making it lighter than usual. Two-bit grinned and nodded his head, believing that I was really okay and not just telling him what he wanted to hear. He shoved his hands into his leather jacket, examining the track field in front of us.

"Bex," Darry spoke, with a small tint of worry in his voice, turning his body to face me, "Have you seen Sodapop around?"

I looked down below, watching the people walk different ways towards the bleachers, and walking with friends before the game starts.

I squinted against the sun, scanning the crowd for any sign of Soda. "No, haven't seen him since this morning," I said. "Maybe he's still at the DX?"

Darry gave a curt nod, but his eyes lingered on me a second too long. He knew something was off. They all did, I just didn't know how much longer I could hold it in before it cracked me wide open.

I crossed my arms and let my eyes drift to the track, watching Ponyboy stretch out on the turf, headphones jammed in, oblivious to everything. I wished I could be him for five seconds—just five seconds without the weight in my chest or the gun in my closet or Frank's voice crawling under my skin like a fever.

Two-bit leaned toward me again, voice lower this time. "You hear anything from Dally since the other night?"

I shook my head. I hadn't. After the hug, after the comfort, Dallas had pulled away again. Not out of anger—but maybe fear. Fear of what I was caught up in. Fear of what he might do to protect me.

"Do you think," I asked quietly, "people can do bad things for the right reasons?"

Two-bit didn't answer right away. He let out a slow breath, then looked at me sideways. "Yeah," he said. "But they usually end up paying for it anyway."

My stomach twisted.

Just then, a flicker of movement caught my eye near the fence line of the field. A tall figure, dark coat, too out of place for the crowd. He wasn't watching the race.

He was watching me.

Frank.

I stood up quickly, nearly tripping on the bleachers. Darry's head snapped to me. "Where are you going?"

"Bathroom," I lied, too fast.

I darted off the bleachers, weaving through people until I slipped behind the concession stand and into the alley between buildings. My breathing was short, my fingers trembling. The moment I turned the corner, Frank was there—like he knew exactly where I'd go.

"Nice turnout," he said casually, flicking ashes off a cigarette. "Family support's a real tearjerker."

I glared at him. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Just checking
in. See how you're settling in with your new... responsibility."

I stepped back. "I told you—I'm not using that thing. I'm not hurting anybody."