Two-Bit and I laughed wildly. We were at a bar, drinking ourselves to oblivion. I knew I would regret it, the killer hangover that was to come was promising, but Two-Bit loved to get rip-roaring drunk. And I did, too. Two-Bit was my drinking buddy, weren't for him, probably wouldn't drink as much as I do.
"And I says to her, 'Baby, I don't mind no paying.' And you know what she said to me? You know what she said? Nothing! Ha! Slapped me in the face instead!" Two-Bit roared before swigging back his bottle. I laughed, and ordered another round of drinks. This is what I loved. Drinking myself into a void. Drink and you forget.
"Hey, Two-Bit, that's the girl who tried to call the fuzz on me!" I yelled, pointing her out. Even in my drunken state, I could tell she didn't want to be there. She had this look on her face, I thought it was disgust, but maybe it was something much deeper. Maybe agony? Self-loathing?
Two-Bit stood up, and motioned for me to follow him. I nodded. Two-Bit had his eyes on her, the Soc who wanted to buzz the fuzz. Two-Bit was determined to catch her. He grabbed her arm, and when she yelped, he chuckled.
"Easy, baby. Just wanna talk. Let's go outside, you look like you need a weed."
She sure did, she was whiter than a ghost. She nodded, probably out of fear. Two-Bit tightened his grip on her arm, and started to lead her towards an exit. I followed. Two-Bit wasn't scary, in fact he was one of the friendliest people I've ever met. Why was she looking so shaken?
"So, you wanted to call the fuzz on my buddy?" He questioned, nodding his head at me. The girl looked at him, then to me, and gasped.
"Oh no, I didn't mean nothing by it, I was- well I was..."
She looked close to tears. I chuckled.
"Baby, ain't no grease afraid of the fuzz."
She only nodded. I laughed. I loved doing this, putting girls into their places. She was scared, there wasn't any denying it. Two-Bit leaned against the wall, and smiled.
"What's your name?"
The girl stiffened, looking as if she would give anything to kill us both than to give us her name. I leaned forward, glaring at her.
"When my old buddy here asks your name, he expects an answer. It's only polite. Thought a Soc would know."
She sighed, and muttered, "It's Jenny."
I smiled, and leaned back again. Getting answers out of people was a favorite pastime of mine. Jenny is kind of a nice name, won't lie. It's nothing special, but a name that ain't Ponyboy or Sodapop isn't special. I put my arm around her shoulder, and I could feel her stiffen and hear her slight intake of breath.
"Baby, ain't nothing to worry about," I murmured, "it's just old Dallas, he ain't gonna hurt you."
She pulled away from me, slapping my cheek as she did. I rubbed my cheek, laughing. Boy, did this girl not know when to quit.
"Get away from me, hood. Don't touch me, don't even talk to me." she started yelling.
"Hey, you messing with my girl?"
A brunette Soc, wearing madras and matching colored pants, was walking towards us. Two-Bit and I straightened, glaring at him. We had a reputation of looking cold, hard, mean... We weren't about to let it drop.
"No, we was just giving her a talking to about the fuzz." Two-Bit said cooly. He sounded bored. And to be frank with you, I was too. I started to pick at my finger nails, humming quietly as I did.
"That ain't your place, telling my girl what to do. You better get lost, JD's, before I whip you."
Two-Bit scoffed, and flicked out his blackhandled switchblade. The Soc backed up a bit, laughing nervously. Two-Bit smirked, and laughed.
"Ain't scared, are you, Big Shot?" he said.
"I ain't scared of you, you lowlife hood. Come on, Jenny, they aren't worth the trouble."
Two-Bit and I left the bar after that. We figured we could walk around town, maybe lift a few things. I lit up a cigarette, and offered one to Two-Bit. We walked in the night, cigarettes heating our lungs, breathing out the smoke, living. This is what I loved most, being a reckless hood. A menace. A lost hope.
Two-Bit nodded to a store, and I followed. We lifted some beers, some Kools, and candy bars. If you don't want to pay, or can't be bothered to wait, just lift it. They make enough money, they won't miss a few things. I always think of it as paying me back for treating me like shit. I needed help, and I wasn't given anything but the streets. The boot. So I bite back twice as hard.
Mercy gets you soft. And you can't be soft. Being soft gets you hurt. And I learned that the hard way.
Two-Bit and I ended up falling asleep in the lot. We woke up at noon, rubbing our heads and feeling dirt on your cheeks.
"Darry might have breakfast out, wanna go and see?" I asked.
Darry always took care of us. Who would? Not anyone but him. Two-Bit and I stood up, feeling sick and numb from the beer. This is medicine, I thought, medicine for the hurt. It's to make them hard. To make them forget. And I want to forget a lot of things.
Especially Jenny.
