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"Who's gonna babysit Johnycakes tonight?" Two-Bit jumped over the back of the couch, straddling one of the dining room chairs as he looked from Soda to Steve.
"We we're gonna go with Sandy and Evie to the movies. Dally said it was his turn anyway." Steve looked away from his arm wrestle with Soda just long enough to lose. "Ah, Two! Look what you done!"
"Me!?" Two-Bit put the most flabbergasted look on his face, one hand dramatically falling to his chest. "That's all you're doing! Where is the kid anyway?"
"In the bedroom with Pony. They're finishing homework."
***
"Pony?" Johnny leaned heavily on the desk, his head resting on his palm, black hair all messed up from running his fingers through it.
"Whatsa matter, Johnny?" Suddenly the English homework they were trying to finish didn't matter. Not when Johnny spoke, something he didn't do often after getting jumped.
"They're talkin'... bout me again." The way Johnny's voice fell betrayed the torture he felt in the comfort of the gang's never leaving presence.
"Yeah? What about?" Pony reached a comforting arm around his friend, avoiding the gash still on his shoulder, hidden beneath his tshirt.
"Two's asking 'bout who's gonna..."
"Gonna what?"
"Babysit... me..." Johnny turned his chin into his shoulder, looking towards the wall with its haphazardly hung Elvis posters. Anywhere but his best friend's face. "I just..."
"You need'a be alone? Need to not have someone on your tail for the umpteen-millionth time?" Pony set his folded arms on the desk, craning his neck to catch Johnny's eyes.
"Yeah."
"I'll talk to 'em for yah!"
"No. You don't have- have to bother- don't bother your- yourself with doin' that." Johnny instantly turned his head, his eyes tried locking in on his friend as they darted nervously around the room. Eye contact had become even more difficult than before when it was just the memories of his parents beating on him. Now it was them and the Socs and the rings. Johnny had developed such a fear towards rings that Dally had stopped wearing his, though it did help that he and Sylvia had broken up... again.
"Hey, it's okay. Don't be silly. I can make 'em listen." Pony carefully patted his friend on the back before getting up and going to the other room.
"Hey, Ponykid!"
" Hey Two. Uhm... Y'all, Johnny needs some alone time."
"You get dumb or somethin', brat?" Steve shot a demeaning glance towards the thirteen-year-old. "That's give them Socs the perfect chance to finish the job."
"Steve! I mean it! We all need to lay off! He hasn't had one wakin' moment where someone wasn't on his tail. It's been over a month of this." Pony crossed his arms, puffing his chest out as best he could with his small frame.
"Ponyboy, we just don't want the kid to get hurt like that again. Don't want to feel responsible because someone weren't watching over him." Soda, always trying to ease any tension, spoke up.
"I know that, but how would you feel. Your Johnny's age. What would it feel like to have someone always following you around wherever you go? Just... Let him have a little bit. Let him walk outside of this house without a guard dog on his heels."
"Man, Pony! When you put it that way. Guess I wouldn't like it much either." Soda relented, raising his hands in surrender.
"Soda! You're giving in to the kid?"
"Lay off, Steve. He's right."
"I dunno, Soda. I'm with Steve. I don't like it much either." Two-Bit leaned his chair back on its back legs, balancing precariously as he sided with Steve.
"I know it sounds crazy from our side of the picture, but what about Johnny's side. It's just like Pony's saying."
***
Johnny wasn't sure exactly sure how Pony had done it, but he was now out of the Curtis house alone. Staring down at the red t-shirt and blue jeans he had a sudden urge to get into his own clothes. That is if his parents hadn't done away with everything in his room after his absence. As he pushed the front door carefully open, he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding when he saw nobody else was home.
He made his way through the trashed house to his little bedroom, its sparseness and odd but welcoming presence. A few clothes still sat in the top dresser drawer, and he gently picked up his own worn-out jeans and shirt. Johnny's whole body shook as he dreaded sound of the front door slamming rang in his ears. Heavy footsteps betrayed his dad's presence as they made his way toward his bedroom. Why would they be coming to his room?
The door swung open leaving Johnny frozen in place. "Well, you finally decided to show up again. Mighta been better if you didn't you worthless, no-good kid." Johnny raised his arm just as his dad swung, grabbing the small wrist tight enough to bruise as he pulled it away, leaving Johnny's face unguarded.
***
Johnny's tongue probed at the bloody cut on his lip, the heavy metallic taste filling his mouth. He hated the taste of blood, and it made a small shudder run down his spine. His fingers pressed absently at the fresh bruises as his thoughts wandered.
Maybe I should have stayed at the Curtis house. The gang is only trying to protect me from what them Socs did... Why do they beat us up anyway. Why is Tulsa split down the middle? I doubt if anyone who remembers which side drew first blood. There's so much anger and pain and I'd be surprised if that doesn't get a lot of misguided blame... A lot of comes toward us, just two very different classes of people trying to settle an uneven score.
But why do I gotta pay the price for other's actions. Why does everyone on the east side get forced into this fight? Like we're born into it or something. I just wanna find somewhere I belong in this torn apart world. Somewhere where people can just admit they're flawed from the start. Socs must all think they live pretty flawless lives.
But are they really living perfect lives? Everyone's got a side. Maybe I'm just outside looking in, while they're inside looking out? Maybe they got a lot of secrets they keep, but looking at them sure makes it hard to accept they have it tough at all. I mean what are us greasers really up against?
Maybe they just despise us 'cause they don't understand our story. I mean, it's not like they try to understand our story anyhow. We're not the enemies they've made us out to be. They just turn thir backs on us... just filthy greasers born to the wrong side of town. No way out.
Tears started tracking down Johnny's cheeks as he replayed that day when they jumped him, still so raw in his mind. I gotta fix what they broke inside me... I don't how I can, but... I'll find a way.
***
"You did what?!" Dal's face was all shades of red as he slammed Soda into the wall, everyone else in the living room freaking out as the scene played out. "Where is he, Soda? Don't play with me!"
"I-I don't know- Dal." Soda tried to force the words out as he desperately sucked air back into his lungs. A hand raised enough to motion the rest of the gang back. Shoulders still pinned to the wall, he continued. "He was needin' some time alone. We let him go."
"Why would you allow that? He- What if the Socs get him again?" Dally shoved Soda harder, causing the other boy to wince.
"We had a rumble, Dal. The Socs haven't come to our side of town in ages." Soda was gaining his bearings, hands free enough to push back on Dally, releasing his now extremely sore shoulders.
Dally's hands dropped, a half-embarrassed look teasing at his cheeks. "I'm gonna check the lot."
"No need." The door shut quietly, Darry carrying a sleeping Johnny in his arms.