Girls Don't Cry | The Outsiders

Four

I didn't go over to the Curtis' for awhile after Johnny and I got jumped and that night I cried in Sodapop's room. I saw the guys around school, but I always tried to dodge away from them. Sodapop, of course, was in my math class, but I noticed he began skipping a lot. That was until he just stopped showing up altogether. Sandy informed me he'd dropped out. I was disappointed, but I knew he had a lot of troubles in school, except for gym.

I got into the habit of sneaking in through the window in Ryan's room every time I got kicked out instead of going over to the Curtis'. He began leaving it unlocked because he got tired of me waking him up in the middle of the night, not that he minded, but even I agreed it did get old after awhile.

My grades in English weren't getting better, either, despite Ryan helping me. We were taking it slow at first, and then moving up. I was doing pretty well: I was understanding Gatsby a lot better and I understood what F. Scott Fitzgerald was meaning about the whole thing with the 'American Dream' and stuff up until I was forced to leave school early to take care of my little brother, who had gotten a seasonal flu. I missed a lot of school to stay home and help him, making me fall even further behind. And it wasn't just a little bit, either.

"Do you really not know how to read?" a soc girl asked me one day. I'd been out in the courtyard at lunch trying to read. It was going pretty well, too. I was really starting to get the hang of it and I was becoming more confident with it. And then that girl came up to me and asked me that stupid question. I ignored her. "I mean, I could help you, if you want."

"I have someone helping me," I replied shortly, trying to remain calm.

"Oh, a man whore like Ryan Cooper? Really?"

I felt my face go hot as I looked up at her. Ryan may not have been very good at settling down in a relationship, but he wasn't a 'man whore'."What's it to you? I'm not any of your concern. You can go back to painting your nails now."

She rolled her eyes. "I just thought you'd want a little one-on-one time with someone your own age."

"I have plenty of people my own age."

"What about girls? You got any girl friends?"

"Yeah, tons," I replied.

"Who?"

I didn't respond. She knew as well as anyone that I didn't necessarily get along with a lot of girls. Evie and Kathy and Sandy were different; I had to tolerate them. They were my best friends' girls. But in general, I just didn't dig girls. I liked hanging with the guys because they let me fight and they knew I could stick up for myself and, in cases where I couldn't, they'd always back me up. I was more fond of watching Mickey at seven in the morning on a Saturday with Two-Bit, both of us getting as drunk as we could at the ass crack of dawn than I was going shopping or reapplying lipstick a million times in a single hour. Sometimes Steve let me help him work on cars and I actually knew quite a bit about them because he knew them better than the back of his own hand.

When I didn't say anything, she smirked. "I thought so," she said.

"Just leave me alone," I said, my voice cracking slightly.

"Leave you alone, huh?"

"Yeah," I said, my voice more firm. I was losing my patience.

"Leave you alone?"

"Yes, leave me alone."

"Oh, leave you alone, you say?" I was on my feet in an instant and, just as fast, she was falling backward on her ass.

"I said to leave me the hell alone!" I shouted.

"Hey, hey!" someone said, pulling my arms back as the soc girl sat there in shock, her split lip now bleeding. She looked genuinely shocked that I'd actually punched her. I guess, I was, too.