This is Today

Chapter Five

I had thought Ponyboy and I were finally getting somewhere in the ways of building a friendship, but after that day at the park, Ponyboy and I didn't talk again for over a month. It wasn't like I hadn't been trying, I really had, but Pony wasn't having any of it at all. I had attempted to go up to him one day, about a week after the park incident. I saw him at his locker, pulling large text books out of the blue metal rectangle, but right as I reached him he slammed the door to his locker shut and shot me a glare. My mouth was slightly agape and maybe eyebrows were knitted up in confusion. Before I could even say anything, Curly Shepard came up behind Ponyboy, wrapping an arm around him protectively and pulling him away from me. I was mildly shocked, to say the least. I supposed he was still mad at me for what happened with Angela. That didn't bother me though, I still didn't like Curly either. As far as I was concerned, the whole Shepard family could bite me. They were all no good anyway.
The two hoods walked away from me without uttering a word, Curly leading the younger boy by his arm. It was strange seeing them so close. Just a couple years ago I never saw Ponyboy with anyone other than the greasers in his little group— I think there were maybe six of them all together.
That day we went to the park, Pony had told me all about how two members of his outfit had died, one at the hands of the police, and the other due to injuries sustained in a fire. I knew he who Dallas was as he was talking about him, but I had honestly forgotten all about his demise from the year prior. He had been a blubbering mess that entire day. Telling me how after the two boys died, the gang practically fell apart. Then Mark was hauled off to prison to top it all off. It almost made me feel guilty, but I knew I did the right thing by turning Mark in.
I huffed a little, watching the backs of the two greasers disappearing down the hallway. Grumbling to myself, I turned and walked to class, wondering why Pony was being so cold to me.
It wasn't until another week later that I bumped into Ponyboy at the movie house. He was with two other boys, one I recognized as Tim Shepard and the other I noted was his friend Two-Bit. The youngest Curtis looked so out of place with them. They were both clear hoods, especially Tim. Their backs were pressed against the brick wall, paper bags filled with beer bottles resting in the older boys' hands. I waved at Ponyboy, trying not to attract any unnecessary attention from the oldest Shepard brother who stood beside him. Unfortunately, it didn't work and before I knew what was happening Tim had me by the collar of my shirt, growling threats with a rough voice laced with venom.
"You need to stop comin' 'round Ponyboy," He snarled, the stench of booze wafting off his breath and tainting the air around us. "If I hear you been buggin' him anymore after today, you better watch your back, kid." And with that, Tim dropped me. I'm that moment I had such an overwhelming urge to hit him, or spit in his face, but I couldn't do it. Everyone knows Shepard's outfit carries heaters and blades, and I didn't quite have a death wish yet.
I glared holes into the back of Tims head as he walked away. He looked like he was from the worst part of the ghetto in all of Tulsa. His black hair was slicked back with so much grease I bet if you lit a match near him it'd light on fire. He had on baggy, ratty jeans and a leather jacket that looked like it'd been through hell and back, I even thought I saw a bullet hole in the shoulder. Pony didn't look like that though. He looked a lot like me, but I knew deep down he wasn't anything like me.
I went home late that night. I walked down the dim streets alone, enjoying the breeze as it pushed against my face and blew through my dark hair. I had picked up some grease girl at the movie house. She was really pretty, but I didn't care much about that– I just cared that she'd be easy. She'd led me by my hand to a secluded lot, practically jumping on me when we got there. It was dark and dirty, the grass rough and dead beneath us, but I didn't care and of course neither did she. She had introduced herself earlier in the night as Sandy, which I thought fit her because of her sandy blond hair. Her blue eyes shined in the moonlight, face flushed pink as she ran her hands over my body. She was truly very pretty, but I knew I wouldn't be seeing her again. I wasn't looking for anything serious. Just something easy.
When I arrived home it was already past three in the morning. My mother was asleep in her bedroom as I stumbled in. I groaned, falling down on my bed with a loud thump. My curtains were open and moonlight glared into my room, cascading over my body like water. With a sigh, I rolled over and passed out still in my jeans.