Yours Truly

Chapter Seven

A/N: Hi, hope you're having a good day! Btw, if you see a link to a pic, that's what Jules looks like! Please keep reading!☟

The dimmed light coming from behind the curtains is what wakes me. And I realize, I'm home. And I'm in my own bed. I detach myself from the comfortable mattress, the one that my mother never replaced. I guess she "never had the money". I slide downstairs on the railing, not even caring at this point. I start to boil some water, for green tea of course. I make breakfast and call the school. "Hey! I'm sick, so I'm not going to come into school. Okay?" I lie, making it sound like I have a cold. "Oh, it's okay honey! Feel better soon!" I hear the nurse coo on the other side of the phone. I end the call, smiling to myself. They really think I'm coming back after my "cold". I run upstairs to change and I put on flare jeans and a red halter top. "Where should I go today?" I question myself. Maybe the Curtis' house? Or should I see Lacey? Actually, let's go to the Arcade down the street. I could find a job there. I jump into my car. Yes, I have a car. I'm a Soc, not Soc. I twist the key in the ignition to start the car. The engine makes a loud noise, and I'm hoping it didn't wake up any of the neighbors. I push my foot down on the gas pedal, and the car lurches forward. I start up the radio, and The Beatles starts playing. 

Down the road, a bright building catches my eye. The Tulsa Arcade, a small section in what looks like a line of stores. The small bell on the top of the door rings, signaling my presence. "Hey! What can I do for you?" asks a girl around my age. She must work here. "I was looking for a job. Are you hiring?" The girl pauses and finally says, "Yeah. We are actually, I just didn't think many girls wanted jobs. My name is Jules." Jules has cyan-colored hair and olive skin. She is the definition of pretty. She seems like a Greaser, but she could be a Soc. "Greaser or Soc?" I ask, making her look up at me. "You can't tell?," she laughed, "I'm one-hundred percent a Greaser." I smile. "Yeah, me too. But I live on the South Side. My mom wanted me to be a Soc because she usually cares about popularity, but she never really made me hang out with anyone. Then I found a gang of Greasers, and I realized that's where I belong," I say confidently like I really mean it. And I do. I really do. 

Jules and I worked for the rest of the day. When both of our shifts were over, it started to rain. We said our goodbyes and parted ways. The evening sky was dimmed from the clouds, and the temperature outside was warm and wet. My Docs stick to the concrete underneath me, making a squelching sound. I open my car door and sit inside. I turn the key and start the car. I drive off towards home. I drive through the town, not a single person in sight. I mean, it is a drowsy day. I pull into my narrow driveway, attempting to park the best I can. I step out and check my parking. Not half as bad as I thought it would be! I lock the car and open the door to my house. Inside, the air is drafty. Shadows hold the house hostage. I flip the switch on the wall and the light tears through the darkness. The world around me is peaceful. I flop down onto the couch, creating a dent underneath me. I kick off my shoes and peel off my socks. My eyes snap shut, and I soon fall asleep.

A loud tap comes from the front door. I slowly inch my way to the floor, where my feet now hold me up. I pad over to where the sound came from. I open the door just a crack. Is that, is that," Lacey? What are you doing here?" She waves and allows her hand to fall. "Astra, hey!" she hiccups, "How are you?" She doesn't wait for me to answer, and says, "I'm good thanks for asking! Can I come in?" She hiccups again, and her eyes flicker. She's drunk. Actually, she's hammered. Very, very hammered. I let her inside, and close the door. I lock it too. When I turn back around, she's passed out on the couch. I quickly run upstairs and grab some clothes. Her smell of smoke and alcohol. I fly back down the stairs, and into the living room. Her shoes are already off, and all she is wearing is a dress that barely covers anything. I slip it off and dress her in my more comfortable clothes. Once I'm finished, she rolls over. I start up the washing machine and throw her dress inside. I sit next to her on the couch and start to think of why she's been going to the bar. Then it hits me; Dallas freaking Winston. That damn kid broke my best friend into pieces and didn't even bother to pick them up. 

Half an hour later, her clothes are dried, and she wakes up. "Astra, is that you?" she whispers, her vision must be blurred. "Yeah, it's me. Do you want to call someone?" I ask, trying to get her to call Dallas. To tell him off of course! "No, I think I'm good for now, b-," I cut her off, "maybe call Dallas to tell him off? Or maybe call Darry, to tell him to pick you up?" Her eyes brighten. She puts on a devilish smile, and I hand her the phone. She knows the number. The phone rings. "Hey this is Buck's what can I do for you?" someone asks in a monotone voice. "I want to speak to Dallas Winston," Lacey demands. "Who's calling?" the person declines. "Someone important, now put me through!" Lacey shouts. The phone rings again. "What do you want?" Dallas questions, not knowing who's calling. "Hey Dallas, how's the girl?" Lacey deepens her voice, sounding like a guy. "Oh! Hey man, I found a sweet chick at Bucks! Her name's Maxine, and she doesn't know about Lacey yet. Same's the other way around," Dallas answers, totally naive. "Hey, Dallas," Lacey makes her voice normal again. "We're over," she says and hangs up.

A/N: Hey! I really hope you liked this chapter! Please tell me if you have any suggestions! Feel free to comment on your opinion, whether it's positive or whether it's negative because I really want to hear from you! Thank you guys so much! Hope you have a good day/afternoon/evening / or night! Bye!