hot chocolate [sodapop curtis]

CHP. 7

☕️
CHAPTER SEVEN
CAFÉ GIRL
☕️

The next morning, I woke up to Ponyboy shaking my arm. I was confused, considering I don't remember sleeping at his house and I also don't remember giving him a key.

"What the fuck, Pony?" I asked while propping my self up on my elbows, avoiding his gaze so he doesn't see how trashy I look in the morning. He looked worried, so I felt worried as well. I didn't know what was wrong, but I was scared anyway.

"I need your help, Johnny got hurt, his parents-his dad-" I cut him off by standing up and speed walking to the bathroom, grabbing my first aid kit and walking back out.

"How bad is he?" I said, walking down the stairs, remembering what I told him; "If you ever - and I mean ever - feel like running away, or have any problem, you or your family. No matter how big or small, go straight to my house. Do not go running off somewhere. Come straight to my home", and this was definitely a big problem.

"He's pretty bad. His face is all bruised and scratched up. I wouldn't have come to get you, but-" I cut him off once more. "I made a promise to you that I would always be there for you and your family, and if you consider Johnny family, which I know you do, then I will always be there to help. No matter what," I say, slipping on the first shoes I saw, which happened to be my blue slip-on converse. I threw my hair up into a quick bun and started sprinting down the street. I did not look the type to run or really be good at anything that had to do with physical activity. I wasn't exactly 'fit', you could say. But damn, could I run fast if I wanted.

Ponyboy, quite clearly, was not expecting this from me so he was a bit behind me but soon caught up. We reached his house (it's not too far from mine) and pushed the door open. I wasn't expecting there to be a living room full of boys who smell of cigarettes and shitty cologne. So when they turned to see me standing at the door, silently wheezing, wearing huge sweatpants, and an old Elvis shirt that used to be my friends, (Matthew Alonzo. He's kind of like a cousin to me who still lives in Canada), they had a hella lot of questions.

"Why the fuck is she here?" (I believe that was Dally)
"Casey! Bad time to be here, but like, hey" (two-bit, I think)
"Seriously, get her the fuck out" (Dally again)
"The hell is she?"

"Guys, she's here to help Johnny. Her sister is a doctor, Casey knows what she's doing," Ponyboy said, calming them down. All except for Dally, that is. He was still very against me being here and he made that clear by trying to shove me back out the door, yelling about how much he doesn't trust me.

"If you give a single fuck about that boy on the couch, then I suggest you let me through," I spoke sternly and angrily at him, the entire house went silent, possibly because 'no one yells at Dallas Winston'. He reluctantly moved out of the way and I started to unzip my first aid kit.

"Right decision, Texas." I said, walking past Dallas. I get it, he didn't get enough love in his childhood so he's covers himself up in a hard and cold exterior, but on the inside he's really a good guy and he just needs someone to help him out of his shell - to hold his hand along the way. Doesn't give him an excuse to be a dick, though.

I walk up to the couch and kneel down beside Johnny. I saw every one of his cuts and bruises and I frowned.

"Hey. I'd ask how you're feeling, but I think I can assume your answer," I laugh pitifully, trying to make a bit of a joke. He smiled a bit.

"Hard to believe you yelled at Dally. Not very many people have the guts to do that. Let alone a girl," he laughed, but winced right after because the cut on his stomach. "It was kind of funny," he said quietly, but everyone could hear him.