By A Thread (Sodapop Curtis)

V.

"I was out of it, and only a small part of myself knew it."

I stayed home reading Gone With the Wind all Sunday and by Monday morning I was a little more than half way through the book. I'd forgotten how good it really was and I reminded myself to thank Ponyboy for being so kind as to give it to me.

But my safe days were over. The weekend came to a close and it was time for me to head back to school. Like always, I was home alone, my mother not being back from work yet. I gathered my things, not bothering with breakfast, and made my way out the door and down the street.

The weather was warm and my jeans jacket, stiff. If it hadn't been a Monday, I would have thought it to be a perfect day. But school definitely wasn't something I was fond of.

As I walked through the front doors, I told myself there was nothing to be afraid of. Angelo had probably already picked up another girl by now. But maybe that's what I was afraid of. . .

I made it through half the day before things really began taking a turn for the worse. It was lunch time and I was in the cafeteria with my bagged lunch at a table by my lonesome. There weren't many greasers in the room, which came as no surprise. Most went into town for lunch only because the Socs tried blaming everything on us during that period. But I had no one to go with and nowhere to go, so I stayed at the school no matter what degree of hell it became.

A group of Socs walked behind me towards the lunch line, one of them bumping into my shoulder as he went. Snickers followed and I just bowed my head, munching on an apple and sipping from my bottle of Pepsi.

I was thinking I might make it through the period without being bothered much more when the same group of Socs settled down at my table. They were laughing and joking around, shoving each other like the annoying boys they were. It seemed like they hadn't noticed me, but that was wishful thinking. One of the boys, with brown hair and a blue button up shirt turned to me with a wicked smile. "Hey there, grease."

I didn't say anything, just continued eating and avoided eye contact. This seemed to anger the boy. He slammed his fist on the table. "I'm talking to ya', greaser."

Slowly, I looked up at him. He was still smiling maniacally. The rest of the boys were holding back laughter.

"What have you got for lunch? Huh?" He put his hand up to his ear, mocking deafness, even though I hadn't said a word. "Trash, greaser? Did you get it outta the trash?"

His boys settled into a fit of laughter. The brown haired one smiled with pride. I just looked back at my lunch. It was a half finished apple, a bottle of Pepsi, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It wasn't much, but it sure hadn't come out of the trash. I'd gotten the supplies from the store myself.

The same boy just kept going, and I felt my ears getting red. "Come on, girl, do ya' talk? You a mute, huh?" His buddies were still chuckling. "Where'd you get the food, grease? Outta the trash bin?"