bexley curtis ✰ || the outsiders

twenty-four

TWENTY - FOUR
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The following evening I ended up on the front porch with Two-bit Mathews. My arms wrapped around my legs as I brought them close to my chest, staring into the sky with many things circling around my head. Sometimes I think of the worst to happen instead of believing in the smallest things that could go right. It's my worst habit, but like Darry says, it's unhealthy and you'll end up in the pits if you continue down that road. Whenever I intend to think deep, I have a strong feeling that someone around me can read me like an open book - just like Ponyboy. As for Two-bit Mathews, he can't sense what's going through your mind, but he knows when something is bothering you. When anyone is the way I am at the given moment, staring off into the distance and bombarding your own mind with nervous thoughts, Keith starts to let it sink into him personally as if he was the one going through a tough time. I don't necessarily call Two-bit by his first name, but he dares let anyone call him Keith besides me, which comes as a shocker to most people. He's always been a great shoulder-to-lean on.

"What's on your mind, little Curtis?"

I took my undivided attention off the stars that were shining gracefully down on the both of us in the dark sky. I turned my head to look at a worried Two-bit looking into my eyes, "Nothing. Just thinking like I do everyday," I put my attention back onto the sky, seeing the sun start to settle down. I licked my lips, like they felt dry all of a sudden - just let it out for once.

"Two-bit.. what would you do if someone asks you to consider something that may lead to you being involved with some.. troubles? Even though it will do the town some good?"

"Troubles?" Two-bit repeated as his eyes started to overfill with worry, "What is ol' Dally doing to you this time? He ain't giving you any cigarettes or guns or involving you in any critical activities is he?"

The gun. The gun that is hidden in a shoebox stacked on the top shelf in the back of my closet. I nervously bit the inside of my cheeks. I thought for one minute, maybe one minute that I had the given audacity to look Two-bit in the eyes and tell him exactly what's going on to get the weight off my shoulders, but I can't. I just can't do it. His eyes were already worried enough as it was. His voice was already slightly stuttering thinking one of our close buddies was engaging me into the worst troubles in Tulsa. Well, it's somewhat true, but it wasn't Dally bringing me in. It wasn't Dally handing me a gun.

I had to say something to avoid causing suspiciousness. I shaked my head, trying to act truthfully as possible. "No, not at all. It's hard to explain, really. But what would you do?"

Two-bit sighed slowly, shrugging his shoulders as he thought hard enough to answer a simple question I should've known how to answer already. 

"Bex, I don't know what's happenin' around here, but if I were you, don't take that chance to walk down the wrong path. It ain't worth it anymore and it sure ain't worth it fifty years from now. I heard Darry talkin' about rolling you into school and using his saved money to send you off to college. If you get involved with these.. things, it's over for you, Curtis. Your dreams will go down the drain and go to a complete waste. You'll make Darry's opportunity for you go to waste. I even regret half the things I did, and believe it or not I'm sure Dally has to. He doesn't express it, but he sure as hell shows it."

Two-bit was right. I got handed an opportunity from Darry that I was going to end up throwing away for nothing. Even if that did happen, Darry would never in his right mind think of forgiving me. Darry always goes out of his way to help the people he truly cares about. When Johnny turned fifteen last year, Darry gave him his first leather jacket. Johnny always talked about the leather jacket Dally had - it was a rusty brown, but Darry and Dally both agreed that Johnny looked more tuff in black. They thought that giving Johnny a leather jacket would make him look at it with such pride of being a greaser and a close friend in the Curtis gang.