heartache

nine

"SODA NO!" I screamed. In return, the Soc pushed the blade into my skin. Blood ran down my face and dripped on to the sidewalk. Soda was going crazy, but he had a knife to his throat as well so he couldn't do anything.

"YOU TAKE THAT EFFING BLADE OFF OF THEM RIGHT NOW OR I WILL PERSONALLY TAKE IT OFF FOR YOU!" I heard someone yell. All of the Socs turned to look and Soda took the opportunity to kick Dan in the gut. Dally ran up and elbowed one in the face, leaving the two that were holding me. They quickly let me go and I collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air. Dally chased the Socs down street and Soda rushed over to me. My shaking arms reached out and wrapped around his neck, holding him as I tight as I could. Before I knew it, I was sobbing into his shoulder. I was starting to get a little light-headed and then I remembered my cut. I pulled my cheek away from Soda's shoulder and he examined it. He looked so pained to just see me in pain.

"Damnit," Soda said through clenched teeth. He swiftly took off his shirt and pressed it to my cheek

"Here, hold this to your cheek. We're gonna get you home," Soda said, picking me up and walking towards the house. On cue, Dally drove by in his car.

"Get in," he shouted. Soda placed me in the back, and then climbed in himself. I was still shaking like a leaf so Soda wrapped his arms around me. We were all dead silent until we reached the Curtis house. Soda carried me in and then put me on the couch, meanwhile he ran to get things to clean and bandage my cut. Dally stayed with me the whole time, making sure that I didn't break down again. When Soda came back, he had Darry following him, so I assumed that Darry was going to clean my injury. He held a soapy rag to my cheek and began to clean it. The soap burned and I had to contain the pain. Instead of screaming, I gripped Dally's arm very, very tightly. Then Darry poured peroxide onto another rag and cleaned the cut with that as well, but it didn't sting so I let go of Dally's arm. After letting it dry for a while, he bandaged it up. It felt weird, having a giant Band-Aid on my face, but it was better than bleeding out. After I carefully got changed, I crawled into bed. After lying there for a few minutes, I remembered that I still had to pack.

"Crap," I muttered. The suitcase was wedged under the bed so I had to climb underneath to get it. While I was under the bed the door opened.

"Stella, what on Earth are you doing under the bed?" Soda asked. I crawled out with my suitcase and sat with my legs crisscrossed.

"Fancy seein' you here."

"You hang around Two-Bit too much. Anyway, why are you on the floor?" I held up my suitcase.

"Duhh, I have to pack." Soda just shook his head and grabbed the suitcase from me.

"Where do we start?"

"Start throwing in any pair of pants that you can find, along with belts and socks. I'll do everything else." Soda and I began furiously throwing clothes into my suitcase. After we were done, I crawled in bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I remembered that I needed a dress for the funeral.

"UGGHH!" I moaned as I got out of bed (again.) I opened the closet and started looking through it, trying to find a modest, black dress that still fit. Soon enough, I felt arms wrap around my stomach and a chin rest on my shoulder. I ignored it and kept looking. I was so tired and not in the mood to fight back. Plus, I liked it. I continued to flip through my dresses until Soda's hand reached out and pointed to a high-low dress. It was black on top and had crème-pink flowy fabric on the bottom.

"Why don't you ever wear this? I bet you'd look really, really hot in it." I simply smacked his hand away and continued to look. I had reached the end of the dresses and not one dress was fit for a funeral. I'll have to get one when I'm there. Annabelle will help me I bet, I thought to myself. I closed the closet door and fought my way out of Soda's grip. He followed me into the bed and I cuddled up next to him.