bexley curtis ✰ || the outsiders

Fourteen

"Well, if it isn't Bexley who works at a hillbilly's gas station," Erik said in an over-friendly type voice. I gave him a stony glare as my jaw clenched tight. He gave me a huge smirk as he laughed quietly to himself. "Tell you what sweetheart, why don't you get one of your little friends back in the garage to fix my damn car, and then I'll leave since you're not quite welcoming to people."

He grabbed a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet that was shoved in his back pocket, extending his hand towards my face to where he's brushing the cash against my cheek to where goosebumps started creeping up on my arms. The smelt of the cash being brushed up against my cheek was invigorating. I cringed, shoving his hand away.

"I'm sorry, I don't allow a rotten Soc like you to step foot in here. Especially making the fuzz take away one of my best friends, and have you get away with it." I sat back on the stool behind me without taking my glance off of him. When he looked into my eyes, he knew I was exactly serious enough not to let my brother and his buddy take him into a sign in sheet with his car to get fixed. It made him furious.

"You son of a-" he argued, but stopped when a loud voice from the garage filled the whole room.

"Bexley!" I heard Sodapop say louder since I ignored him the last few times before. I turned my head to see him push open the door, wiping his hands on the dirty rag as he lifted his head up, flicking his eyes madly between us. He took a few steps closer, to where I can see a toothpick stick out the side of his mouth to where he liked to chew on it with his teeth. I glanced at Soda, then back at Erik. Soda was just as pissed as I was. "Get the hell out of this shop."

Whatever comes out of Soda's mouth, he truly means it. He doesn't second guess, whatever he says, he says it. Erik glanced directly at me, I caught his glance as it sent me chills through my nerves. He slammed his twenty dollar bill on the counter within force of his hands, not taking his glance off of me. It made my skin jump as my breathing started to extend faster. Sodapop didn't move an inch, in which I'm thinking he's probably used to customers having some attitudes these days.

"Keep the damn twenty dollar bill," he growled. "Poor greasers like you seem to need some cash once in awhile, huh? Maybe if you can change your face up just a bit, don't you agree Bex?"

My heart stopped. I stared at the bill on the counter that was laying there as he stomped out. All I could hear in silence, was the slamming of his door of the car as he crawled in his mustang that he always seems to be proud of and show off lately. A few silent tears escaped my eyes, and started to run down my cheek. I gasped for a breath, as I felt arms wrap around my back, pulling me in for a hug. Sodapop was comforting me like he always did every-time he knew I was upset. My arms found a way around my brothers waist, as he started to stroke my hair.

"It's alright Bex, don't let him get to you. You're my twin, and you know you get the looks from me," I could feel him give me his usual movie star smirk as he's trying to cheer me up. I scoffed a smile as I sniffled, pulling away as I wiped softly underneath my bottom eyelashes. "I promise, things will get better. You know how Socs are Bex, they try to make you feel guilty for em'."

I nodded firmly as I tucked a small strand of hair behind my ear. "I'll be fine, Soda. Thanks."

He chuckled, looking at me in disbelief as he kneeled in front of me. "I'm not headin' back to work until my favorite girl smiles."

"I thought Sandy was your favorite girl?" I said lowly, giving him a small smile as I know he likes to talk about his girlfriend, Sandy. But it didn't seem like it, his smile started to fade as he took in a breath.

"But you're my favorite." He smirked, rubbing my arms before walking back into the garage. Did something happen between them which basically explains why she doesn't come around often? It wasn't my business to know, so I didn't think of it. I extended my hands towards the twenty dollar bill that Erik left on the counter, and put it inside the tip jar.

I heard mumblings in the garage, which Sodapop was probably telling Steve what happened. My body was aching to go to Tim's to see if he could do something about busting out Dallas from the cell. I know Tim doesn't like me a bit, but I know Dallas convinces Tim by bullying him, which explains why Dallas gets his way. I looked around for a piece of paper, grabbing one from underneath the counter as I wrote down that I was heading to Tim's. I was under strict orders from my brothers to not get caught around Tim's or Buck's place. But I headed over anyways. I pushed open the DX door, feeling relieved it didn't ring a bell throughout the store. Steve was complaining about the bell not working, and they forget about fixing it almost everyday.

I made my way over to Tim's usual hangout, which was at Puckett and Sutton. This is the place where fights happens frequently, which is understandable to why my brothers doesn't want me around here. I seen Chevy's and old pick up trucks in the parking lot with small groups of middle classes and greasers arguing back and forth, while some of them were drinking away there situations for fun. I was quite nervous to step foot around this place since it was under strict orders from my brothers. I quickly tried to find Tim, but I couldn't find him anywhere.

"What's miss Bexley Curtis doing around here?" I heard a voice from behind me as I smelt the breath of alcohol travel around my nose. I turned around, to where Curly stood in front of me with a can of beer in his hand. The can was sweaty, which assumed that Curly wasn't drunk yet, and just started on his first or second.

"Gosh Curly, you trying to fetch me a heart attack or somethin'? I'm looking for your brother, Tim." I said as I crossed my arms. He looked at me dumbfounded.

"My brother, Tim? I thought your brothers told you not to get caught seen here. Am I right?" He smirked as his one eyebrow jumped. I rolled my eyes as I didn't want to deal with any sarcasm.

"Listen, can you help me out here or not?"

"Depends." He asked.

I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. "Listen, I need to talk to your brother about helping Dallas bust out of the jail cell."

"What are you talkin' about pretty girl?" He chuckled, taking a swig of his beer. He shaked his head in disbelief as he looked at me. "You drunk or somethin'?"

"Drunk?" I repeated, raising my voice as I looked at him as if he was crazy. "Do I look like an alcoholic to you?"

"You must be funny to think Winston is still in prison. You know he's already out, right? Or did you just forget?"

"You better not be foolin' with me, Shephard." I practically gave him a warning, not knowing if he was being serious or not. He prevented himself from admitting as he kept taking big sips of his beer.

"Exactly what I said, Curtis." Was all he said before I could even start arguing. I watched Curly walk towards the group in a small, drunken state of matter. He wasn't quite drunk, but enough to show him he knows exactly what he's talking about. I turned my back on them, quickly heading back to the house as I picked up my pace. I felt the sun beat down on my skin, as my blood was boiling. Dallas is really here out of prison, is he not?