Smarty | A Curtis Sister Story

16 | Bonus Chapter

I sit on a rock at the river. The last place that Miguel and I were on a date together. What a perfect day that was, he was so ... lovely. He got so excited about the littlest things, especially surprising me. He was the best surpriser. He worked so hard at school, at pretty much anything he did. He was a sensitive soul inside that hard, greaser shell. He wouldn't ever let his emotions show to other people, just to me. He was smart too, he helped me with school sometimes at lunch, with cramming for a test or finishing last minute homework. Oh, how he was so handsome. His soft, doe eyes made me melt when he would look at me. And his voice, soft as water down a stream. And when he told you he loved you, he meant it. The way we hugged was so exact, we were the perfect sizes. It was meant to be. He was so sweet that even Sodapop would have spit him out. He was just so likable. Why do bad things happen to good people?

He was very young, turning fifteen in eight months. He had so much more life to live. He had a future, and it was ripped away from him from his vengeance-filled brother. Oh, how I would like to sucker punch him in the nose right now. I went over to Miguel's house, to see his mother, and she said that Marco left. She said it was because he was too sad about Miguel, and I didn't have the heart to tell her what actually happened. The police will. 

I looked down at my chest, I was wearing his necklace. I never took it off. 

He was ... gone. I started to cry. I quickly wipe my tears, hoping it would stop. I should be happy that I'm crying, I've pushed out all emotions since the night of his death. I've pored myself into making up my schoolwork; something to do to keep him off my mind. I finished all my make-up work in a matter of hours, even with the trouble I have concentrating. My brothers have tried to talk to me about him, but I just shut down when I hear his name. Pony, Johnny, and even Two-Bit, have tried to reason to me about it. Pony says he knows what I'm going through, and that I should tell him about what I'm feeling. Darry agrees with him. I hate when people say that they know what I'm going through. You never truly know what's happening in someone else's head. I don't want to talk about him. I don't want to think about him. It hurts too much. 

But the tears didn't stop coming. They pored from my eyes like water from a faucet, and I couldn't pull the handle. 

I felt a few droplets of rain before, but I didn't care. Now, they are getting more prevalent as more fell on my face and lap. Pretty soon, it started to poor. I was stuck out in the rain, by the river, thinking of my dead boyfriend. I squeezed my eyes to make the stuck tears flow, but that only made more start to stream. Two by two they fell, and I started to feel worse and worse.  I was sobbing again, just like I did the night he died. I didn't even care about getting wet, I just cared about Miguel.

I didn't hear the car pull up in the parking lot behind me over the rain. "Smarty!" Somebody yelled. I turned around to see Soda, covering his head from the rain with a dark leather jacket. He walks over to me and sits down on the rock too. He had to shout to be heard over the rain. "Why are you out in the rain?"

I don't say anything. I just study Miguel's necklace. I found something new, he put my initials on it: K.A.C. That was something I shared on our first date at the Nightly Double. That's when I first formally met the boy I would soon fall in love with. "Miguel ..." I longed for him. 

Soda pulls me under his jacket, to keep me warm and not so wet, and he embraces me. I lay my head on his shoulder, and I cry. "Hey Smarty, I'm sorry about Miguel, but that's no reason you should get sick in the rain. Just come back home, we've been lookin' around for you for a while."

"How did you know I was here?" I ask him. I talk normally, I don't feel like yelling. Plus my throat is dry. 

"I saw you guys here when you were on that date." He explains. "I figured you might be here."

He was eavesdropping, but I don't even care enough to scold him. That date, it was like a movie scene. Miguel ... I start to cry again. Soda sees this and pulls me into his arm. I sob and sob and sob while my older brother holds me. He slightly rocks me back and forth, and I could faintly hear him shushing me over the downpour. 

I hate how dependent you get when you're grieving. It makes me feel like a baby. I don't want to cry, not for this. This crappy situation doesn't deserve it. How could your own brother, your own flesh and blood, take your own life? Miguel was sold short; on his life and his family. He deserved so much more than he got. He deserved more than being on the East side of Tulsa, having to worry about money and being seen as dirty. I hear the way the Socs talk about us at school; they call us scum and white trash. Scum was no way to describe him. He was golden and handsome and charming and sweet ... 

I drown myself with emotions as the rain drowns Soda and I. "He was just ... so great Soda. He doesn't ... deserve anything that happened to him. Why did it happen Soda? Why do bad things  ... happen to good people?" 

"I don't know baby, I just don't know." Is what he told me. That's not a good enough answer. There must be a reason that he was taken away from me. Some reason. 

"He shouldn't have died." 

"I know."

"Soda?"

"Yeah?"

"I loved him. I told him I loved him." I pause, a pit forming in my stomach from my next question, "Why does everything I love get taken away from me?"

He doesn't answer for a while. I don't know if it's because he's stunned at my last statement, or he doesn't know how to answer me. He finally breaks the silence, how silent it can be with the sound of rain hitting rushing water. "Let's go Smarty, I don't want you to get sick." He pulls me up and pratically drags me to the truck.