Can You Keep A Secret? (The Outsiders Fan Fiction)

Chapter 18

Sadie’s P.O.V

“Ouch Two-Bit! Don’t sit on it!” I whined, kicking Two-Bit off the hospital bed with my non-broken foot.

He recoiled, a smirk playing at his lips.

“Oopsie, sorry ‘bout that buddy,” He chirped sarcastically, gently patting my cripple foot. I grumbled unpleasant things under my breath.

“Man, you cussin’ like a trucker over there,” Two-Bit noted.

“Filling in for all the years you ain’t cussed any but now,” He lit a cigarette.

“Do you have to smoke that in here? I already have a broken foot, let alone do I need lung cancer from smoke inhalation,” I said irritably; I hadn’t gotten much sleep in those past two days spent in the hosptial getting treated and kind of wanted to get some.

Two-Bit raised his arms in defense, and then removed the smoke from his mouth.

“Fine, me and my smoke’ll take it out to the waiting room,” He took a drag and walked out.

“Yeah and take your potential lung cancer with ya!” I called after him.

He just kept walking.

Rosey’s P.O.V

Guilt was something I didn’t like the feeling of; it’s gnawing and flaring my insides, and random pangs of remorse would come at me.

It had been an accident, I kept trying to tell myself, it wasn’t on purpose.

The most frightening thing to me was, how the hell was I supposed to get in a league if I couldn’t even run to third base without braking someone’s foot?

Girl’s weren’t allowed in baseball leagues, not even the small ones around America, not in the World Series, not anywhere.

Baseball was a man’s sport, girl’s weren’t ball players, they were girls; everyone knew that.

But the thing was I loved playing that sport so much it didn’t matter to me that it was a man’s sport, it mattered to me that I loved to play it.

Let’s get one thing straight; the only thing me and Sodapop would agree on was: I needed to get into a league for multiple reasons.

        1.     Because I was a good ball player, I knew it, everyone knew it, and Sadie’s foot sure knew it.

        2.    I was an aggressive baseball player, and I could handle playing with boys.

3.     I could show people that girl’s aren’t inferior to boy’s, that maybe, just maybe, we were as good.

These were the facts, and now, I realized, number two was a little too true.

I broke her foot, running to third. I hadn’t even realized that at the time too.

I get so into it, I become like a machine; I’m fierce once you get me going.

I can’t get into any baseball league with that reputation. Nobody would let me in.

Nobody would let me play with any boys if I was more aggressive than them.