Quiet As A Mouse (Outsiders Fanfic)

Chapter 7- Greasers

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        When the bell rang for lunch, Cynthia left without another word to me, which I was entirely fine with. 

        I was glad Two-Bit hadn't entirely forgotten about me, he was wandering the halls with some of his friends, obviously looking for me.  I was also glad to see that His doppelganger wasn't with my cousin, but the one with reddish hair and the black-haired one were.

        "Hey Mickey.  Enjoying what is commonly known as hell?" Two-Bit asks me with a smirk.

        I gave him an are-you-serious look and then opened up my one notebook and scribbled down in capital letters, 'NO."

        He grinned and replied, "Every new greaser in town says that.  I swear, those Socs are worse than Hitler," he says.

        His friend with the red hair said, "I thought you hated History class, Two-Bit."

        "I do," Two-Bit says smugly.

        I wrote down, 'Greasers?' and then poked Two-Bit with my pencil to get his attention.

        He read it and then said, "Yeah.  Greasers.  You know, hoods, J.D.'s, the poor kids on the East side.  Socs are the rich kids on the other side of town and they're always jumping us and blaming us for everything that goes wrong in this neighborhood," Two-Bit explained to me.

        I nodded and then continued the rest of the way in silence.

        I had no idea where we were going as we left the school and started walking along the sidewalk, and I just listened to their conversation.  The one with the black hair didn't say much, but he still said more than I could, and did, if I were to write it. 

        We neared a DX gas station and I spotted two guys there.  I recognized them as we got closer as Two-Bit's friends, His clone, and the other one with the curlily combed dark brown hair.  They both had blue and red DX shirts on, Him--I mean Sodapop, with a greasy rag slung over his shoulder.  The other one, Steven or something was his name, had smears of grease on his jeans and all over his hands.

        "Welcome to Cafe a la Junk Food," He--no, not He, Sodapop, said.

        "Junk Food?  This place has all the essential food groups.  Candy, coke, chips, and other sugar-laden delicacies," Two-Bit said, and I cracked a smile.

        I noticed the black-haired kid, Johnny I think was his name, smiling at the sight of me smiling.  Weird, but I pretended to not notice.

        "So how's school, oh smart one?" Steven asked the red-haired kid in a mocking tone.

        "Like you really care, Steve," he replied.

        Well, I was close. His name was Steve, not Steven.

        "I'm buying lunch. Mickey, what do you want?" Two-Bit asked me, fishing some crumpled bills out of his pocket.  I'm pretty sure Aunt Kat had given the money to him, because Two-Bit had never worked a job in his life.

        'I'm not hungry,' I wrote down.

        "You sure?  You didn't eat anything for breakfast either," Two-Bit commented, sounding a bit worried.  Whenever someone had that tone of voice with me, I felt guilty for making them worry.

        I nodded, not bothering to write another response.  I felt the gaze of all his friends on me for a second, and I kept my gaze focused on the cracked pavement at my feet.

        I was very shy, even before I couldn't talk anymore. 

        Everyone else started eating candy bars and drinking cokes, and I stood off to the side, disappearing into the background like I had a tendency to do so often.  I didn't want to go back to school even though I was only halfway through my first day, and I tried to ignore it as I got lost in my own world.

        I was remembering my nightmare from last night, it seems like I had a nightmare every night now.  I pulled out the notebook from my stack of books and flipped it open to a new page and began writing.

        I remember

        His voice, telling me it would be okay.        

        I remember

        Crying, and not believing him.

        I remember        

        The days we visited him, in the hospital.        

        I remember

        The phone call, telling us he was gone.

        I remember        

        Crying, when I heard the news.

        I remember

        The funeral, seeing him buried.

        I remember

        Afterwards, when I never saw him again.

        I remember.

        The nightmare was actually a vivid memory, from when my grandpa had died of cancer.  We were close, me, Him and my grandpa.  We loved him like a dad, and he had passed away when I was only nine.

        I was snapped out of my trance by Two-Bit telling me that we had to head back to school, or else I'd get  detention on my first day for being late back from lunch hour.  He knew what a goody-two shoes I was about school, and I reluctantly followed my cousin, his friend Johnny with the black hair and the other one, Ponyboy with the red hair, back to school.