#christinasasks

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I woke up one morning, warm under the covers. The sun was shining through the sheer curtains that hung from our bedroom window. I could hear Johnny’s steady breathing behind me, still asleep. He had his arm wrapped snug around my waist, his body pressed up against my back.

I sighed, happily and slowly shifted so I was facing him. His soft, sleepy face only lasted for a moment. My movement must have woken him because his eyes slid open. He smiled when the tiredness cleared and he saw my face. I pressed my forehead against his and stared into his big, dark eyes.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” he responded. “I was already kinda awake.”

“What time is it?”

I felt him strain to turn over and look at the clock on his nightstand.

“‘Round nine-thirty.”

“Mm…” I stretched my arms out, almost smacking him.

“Hey, careful,” he complained, shoving my arm away from his face.

“Oh, sorry, baby.” I sat up in bed, letting the comforter fall into my lap, and made to start the day.

“Just where do you think you’re goin’?” Johnny asked me and pushed me back down into the pillows. It made me giggle. He put his hands on either side of my head and moved so that he was straddling me.

He leaned down and covered my lips with his, kissing slowly and deeply. I reached up, sliding my fingers into his hair. I pulled him closer, breathing in his scent. He moaned, quietly, against my mouth.

When he pulled away, his breath was short. He lifted a hand and stroked my cheek. A smile tugged at my lips as he did. A few wispy pieces of clean hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes as he looked down at me with adoring eyes.

I was the only one who ever saw Johnny Cade with truly clean hair. Even the boys only ever saw his dark strands slicked back with hair oil. It made me feel so special- to share something like this with him when no one else did.

I moved my hand to brush them back, lightly scraping my nails against his scalp. I felt the shiver run up his spine as his body shook.

“That feels nice,” he said, leaning back down to kiss me again.

When he’d separated himself from me again, Johnny fell back onto his own side of the bed and sighed, one side of his mouth upturned.

“Well, guess I’d better go get breakfast started before we wind up in bed all day,” I announced and folded the covers off of my legs. After I stood up, I stretched again, this time putting my whole body into it.

“That’s right- you’d better make me breakfast,” he ordered.

I knew he was joking. We’d been through this a thousand times. And I always gave him a hard time about it.

“‘Scuse me?”

“You heard me.”

I saw him trying to slyly reach for my pillow, but I went for it quicker and held it up in my hand, threatening to throw it at him. Instantly, he was up on his knees, hands out to shield himself, bouncing up and down from the movement of the mattress. .

“It was a joke, baby. I swear!” He cringed, waiting for impact.

I didn’t throw it, though. Not yet. I relaxed my throwing arm and waited for him to realize it too.

And then I threw it, smacking him square in the head.

“Ow!” he cried, and dramatically fell back onto the bed. “You’ve done it this time. You’ve killed me.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” I said, trying to keep myself from laughing. I climbed back onto my side of the bed and started pushing him towards the floor. “Besides, you need to get up and go make me breakfast, now.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Sure it is!” I gave him one hard push and he went tumbling to the ground. My chest started to shake with a silent chuckle. “You ain’t gonna order me around, Johnny Cade.”

He popped up to his feet, rubbing his cheek where the pillow had struck him.

“You ain’t allowed back in bed ‘til I get some bacon and eggs.”

“Hey, you can’t banish me! This is my bed, too!”

“I just did. Whaddya gonna do about it, huh?” I propped myself up on my elbows and leaned my chin against my hand, waiting for his response. I saw a smile tugging at his mouth, although he was trying hard to keep it hidden. He held up his hands in defeat.

“Fine, fine. But you’re gettin’ pancakes and hashbrowns.”

Finally, the laugh I’d been holding in came out and I rolled over on my back. When I looked up at him again, he was grinning from ear to ear as he watched me.

“Well, get to it, then!” I said and raised my pillow again.

------

You’re walking down the street after school, your books clutched to your chest and You Really Got Me by The Kinks stuck in your head. It wasn’t your usual kind of music, but when you passed by a clothing shop with an open door a few minutes ago, it was playing over the radio.

You had to admit, it did have a catchy tune.

You start humming as you walk, but the melody is cut short when you see him.

He was definitely a hood- leather jacket, worn jeans, hair so greasy it shone under the lights of the store he was in. You’d seen him around school some, but you didn’t share any classes with him. You were pretty sure he was older.

When he turns towards the window, the Mickey Mouse printed on his shirt flashes you a smile, and then he’s gone again, down the next aisle. You tilt your head to the side, trying to remember his name and watch as the clerk eyes him suspiciously.

Curious, you head inside. Most of the junk in this store isn’t to your taste, but hey, he’s cute.

You slowly stalk the aisles until you make it to his. He looks up at you as you pass him, but he doesn’t say anything, even if his eyes go directly to your blouse. Heat spreads over your cheeks at the attention, but you continue on.

When you reach the end of the aisle, you pause and turn towards something, pretending it’s caught your eye. Instead, you’re watching him out of the corner of your eye. He picks something up and you’re sure he’s about to swipe it but he knows the clerk has got an eye narrowed in on him.

You turn your head toward him and give him a sly smile. He notices, and tilts his head to the side, unsure of what you’re planning. You move to block the employee’s view of him and whatever this greaser does is between him and your backside.

When he’s left the store, the door bell making an audible ding, you wait inside a few minutes longer, then walk out, as well, leaving the clerk with your sweetest smile. He’s standing against the brick wall of the building next door, a lit cigarette between his fingers, exhaling the smoke between his lips. As soon as the shop door has closed behind you, he stands up straight.

“Hey, honey,” he says, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. “Thanks for the help.” He reached inside of his jacket and pulled out a small keychain, a metal cat hanging from the chain.

“How’d you know I liked cats?” you ask him, letting him drop it into your palm. You hold it up to take a closer look.

“Lucky guess?”

“Mhm,” you mumble. The two of you continue walking down the crumbling sidewalk in silence. He finishes his weed and tosses the butt out into the street. You loop the keychain around your finger and swing it around. “So, what’s your name?”

“My friends call me Two-Bit.”

“That ain’t a name.”

“Sure it is. Anythin’ can be a name. I mean, I got a friend named Ponyboy for chrissakes.” You give him a sideways glance, one eyebrow raised.

“You can’t be serious.”

“One hundred percent,” he announces. “He has a brother called Sodapop.”

“That’s…unconventional.”

“What about you, doll? You got a name?”

“Hm…Buy me a malt and maybe I’ll tell ya.” Two-Bit looks at you, a grin on his face.

“Alright, you’re on. The Dingo okay?” You shrug your shoulders. You’ve never been there, but you’ve heard it’s not too bad. Greasy burgers, but nice, creamy shakes.

“Why not?”

When you get there, he holds the door open for you and insists that you go ahead and find a booth. The joint is pretty packed right now. It shouldn’t surprise you. It’s the biggest greaser hangout this side of town and school’s just gotten out.

When you’ve finally found an empty booth, you toss your books onto the table and slide into the seat. Two-Bit follows soon after, setting a tray of food down between you.

“Alright, let’s see if your luck has followed you here, huh? Which shake is mine?” He lifts one of the cups off the tray and sets it down in front of you. You put the paper straw into the cup and take a sip. You try to hold your smile back. Sure enough, he’d guessed your favorite flavor correctly.

“Strawberry, huh?” you ask him. “Why?” He shrugs, letting his jacket fall down his arms. He picks up a burger and bites into it.

“You just looked like a strawberry kinda girl, I guess.” He’s talking with his mouth full. Not exactly a charmer, but still cute in a weird way, you guess. You laugh.

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.” He swallows his food, a smile on his face.

“You promised me a name if I bought you a shake,” he starts, and pauses to take a healthy drink of his pop. “Pay up.” You watch him for a few seconds.

“I did say maybe,” you shoot back at him. “But, I guess I’ll be nice. This time.” That sly smile you gave him at the store returns to you lips. You’re pretty sure Two-Bit’s mouth drops open for a few seconds, but he catches himself and stuffs some fries into his face to cover it up. You try to suppress your laugh this time, but a small huff escapes. You curse yourself, pretty sure it sounded more like a sigh than anything, but he doesn’t seem to notice.  “My name is Y/N.”

“I like you, Y/N,” he says. “We should hang out again.”

“Oh, is our date already over?”

“Not if you don’t want it to be.”

“It’s Friday. Why don’t you take me somewhere?” You sit back in your seat, crossing your legs under the table and your arms over your chest.

“Where do ya wanna go?”

“Got a car?”

“Sure.”

“We could go to the drive-in.”

“‘Long as you don’t mind the East side screen.”

“Do I look like a Soc to you?”

“Nah, baby,” he replied. “Just thought I’d make sure. Ya never know.”

In order to get his car, you have to follow him home, as he’d walked to school that morning. He jokes about you being the first girl he’s ever brought home. Honestly, you don’t believe him, but it makes your stomach flip nonetheless. You’re really happy you decided to follow him into the store today.

He drives you to the theater and pays for you both. You’re both early and get a spot right in the middle. Perfect.

As the evening rolled along and the movie started playing, Two-Bit risked putting his arm across the seat behind you. You lean into him and he rests his hand across your shoulders. Before long, though, he sits up and faces you.

“Hey, Y/N, can I ask you a question?” You mirror his stance so you’re sitting face to face.

“Sure.”

“Do you wanna kiss as bad as I do right now?” You can’t hold back your laugh this time as a smile spreads across your lips, the white of your teeth peeking through.

Shit, shit, shit, shit!

I ran down the sidewalk hoping to find an open store, a bar, anything.

The asshole following me wasn’t letting up and it was really freaking me out. Sure, I could go home to the protective, open arms of my three older brothers, but I didn’t want to let this jerk know where I live and come back at a time when no one else was home.

Plus, if I went home now with someone on my tail, Darry would never let me out alone again.

But, this was getting hopeless and I was running out of options.

I thought about flinging myself into an alleyway and hiding behind a dumpster, but that seemed too obvious.

Ugh. I’ll just have to deal with the consequences.

I turned down the street, my stalker hot on my trail, and coming up behind me quick. It dawned on me that I wouldn’t make it far enough down the street, and it was dark enough that he’d easily get away with whatever he was planning, especially in this neighborhood.

When he’d finally grabbed me, I spun around and hit his chin with my fist.

A move I’d learned from Dallas Winston, before he’d passed. God rest his troubled soul.

The bones in my knuckles vibrated upon impact and I shook out the pain in my hand. The thief was momentarily stunned, but not long enough for me to run.

“Oh, now you’ve done it, you little bitch,” he said once he’d recovered, his low voice mean and angry.

I wonder if he knew he was jumping a thirteen-year-old. I wonder if he even cared, honestly.

I turned to run, but he caught the sleeve of my denim jacket and pulled me back. I let it slide off my shoulder and tried to slip out of it entirely, but the man was too fast for me and grabbed ahold on my wrist.

“You fuck with me, you’ll have to deal with the Curtis gang,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but I’m sure there was a hint of fear in it. He chuckled.

“Oh yeah, I’m shakin’ in my boots, honey,” he retorted. He threw my jacket to the ground and pulled me back against him. “See, I was just gonna take your money and maybe your earrings, but now I gotta teach you a lesson for hittin’ me.”

Ah, shit.

I reached up and elbowed him in the side and took off down the street. I was aiming for the stomach, but, well, ya know. Not everything always goes as planned.

He caught up to me when I was just a few doors down. I saw my own house- the front door was open, thank God- before I was suddenly jerked backwards and given a stinging slap across the cheek.

“Be a good girl and hold still,” my stalker said, warning in his tone.

“Darry!” I screamed, instead. “Dar-” He clapped a hand over my mouth.

“Shut the fuck up.”

I looked up at him, his face hidden in shadow.

And then I heard it. The familiar bang of the screen door against the door frame. We were always telling the boys not to slam the door, but this time it was my saving grace. I smiled, knowing it was all over for this asshole, now.

Ponyboy was the fastest, of course. He flew in and tackled the guy. He released me, but I wobbled from the impact. Soda was there in an instant to steady me, then joined Pony.

Darry came up and grabbed me by the shoulders.

“You okay, kid?”

“Yeah,” I sighed, relief flooding over every inch of my body. “Yeah- he got me good on the face, though.”

My oldest brother crossed his arms over his chest, making sure his muscles bulged through his t-shirt, and turned towards the other two, holding the thief between them.

“Got him good?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Pony answered. Darry turned his head towards me again.

“Go on home,” he ordered. “You ain’t gonna wanna see this.”

I didn’t want to. I definitely did want to see this, but I figured I may as well listen to him. It might get me a better chance of not needing an escort every time I left the house. So, I turned and started heading home.

“I’ll teach you to fuck with my little sister.”

That evening, you stumbled into the Curtis house, dried blood cracking over your knuckles and flaking off your chin. The door was unlocked, as usual, but the lights were off and it didn’t look like anyone was home. The house was darker than outside with no moonlight streaming in.

Shit, you thought as you barely made it to the couch without collapsing. Your chest was constricted, heaving breaths wheezing out of your mouth with difficulty. You wanted to try to make it to someone else’s house, but your body was giving out and there wasn’t anything you could do. Your purse was on the ground somewhere- you weren’t sure where.

Ugh- why did you think walking alone at night was a good idea?

If you didn’t find someone soon to help you soon, you weren’t sure what was going to happen. Do people with asthma die?

You tried to get it under control. You really did. Deep breath in. Hold it. Deep breath out. Pause a second.

But it only made you feel like you were gonna faint.

And breathing was only getting harder.

But then, a saving grace. You heard a noise in the back of the house. Someone was home, thank God.

When Ponyboy had finally made his way to the front room, his eyes widened at the state you were in. He quickly rushed to your side.

“What the hell happened to you?” he asked you. You took as deep a breath as you could.

“Pony, I feel like I can’t breath,” you gasped out, before releasing and sucking in another breath.

“Where’s your inhaler?”

“Jumped,” you respond. “Dropped it.”

“O-okay,” he stuttered, lifting you into a sitting position. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

“C-can’t.”

“It’s-it’s okay, Darry’s truck is here. I-I’ll drive ya.” There was a small waver in his words. Fear, uncertainty.

You felt a laugh climb up your throat, although it only came out as a tiny puff of air.

“Can you even drive?”

“We’re wastin’ time. We gotta go.”

You felt hands slide in under your knees and around your back. Ponyboy lifted you into his arms and carried you out to his older brother’s truck. Even in the state you were in, the thought of Ponyboy driving the truck made you nervous, your stomach twisting in knots.

The hospital makes you nervous, too. They’ll-they’ll want to know your name, your parents…they might even call them and that will make for a shitty night.

“We-we could just look for-”

“Y/N, you need to see the doctor,” he sighed, setting you down in the long, front seat, then running to the other side and sliding in. “You can’t walk, you can’t breathe. How exactly are you gonna search?”

“W-well-”

“Just shut up and stop arguin’.” You did as he commanded and closed your mouth, focusing on your breathing.

When he pulled up to the hospital, you were ready to pass out. Your eyes were drooping, and your breath was almost nonexistent. Everything hurt. You chest, your throat, your stomach. You thought the strain was certainly going to kill you.

You barely registered Ponyboy lifting you out of the truck before your head lolled against his chest and you welcomed the sweet release of darkness that has been calling you for the past half hour.

When consciousness tugged at you, your body was relaxed and breathing was…so much easier. The light on the other side of your eyelids was bright and you didn’t want to open them, but you didn’t have much choice.

You squinted, but looked around at your surroundings before your eyes landed on Ponyboy, sitting in the chair next to your bed, cross-legged and leaning forward over a magazine in his lap. You watched him for a few minutes before shifting to let him know you were awake. He looked up at you, and relief broke out on his face.

“Finally,” he said, flipping the magazine closed. “You’ve been out for a good hour.”

“Did they call my parents?” you rasped. Ugh, your throat was so dry.

“I didn’t tell ‘em your name. Just told them I found ya passed out on the sidewalk.” A sigh escaped your mouth. He reached over to the bedside table and handed you a glass of water. You sorely wanted to chug it, although you held back and took small sips, letting it wash the scratchiness from your throat.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, what happened?” You closed your eyes again, trying to remember, but it was hard to see in the dark-

“I dunno, exactly. Someone ran up to me on the sidewalk and tried to take my bag. I didn’t-couldn’t get a good look at his face. I…I punched him in the face. Got his nose real good.” You lifted your hand. It had been wiped clean. Not a scratch on it. Not your blood. Oh, thank god. “Guess-guess it stunned him long enough for me to run off, but when I went to get my inhaler, my bag was gone and I had no idea where-”

“Alright, alright. Maybe this time you should get an extra and keep it at my house.”

“That’s-that’s prob’ly a good idea, huh?”

“Yeah.” There was an awkward silence between the two of you for a good few minutes.

“How long do I have to stay here?”

“Doctor said once you woke up we could get the paperwork and leave.”

“I ain’t fillin’ out any paperwork. If I’m good, let’s just get outta here. Darry’s prob’ly wonderin’ where his truck is.”

“Got any money on ya?”

“Maybe in my back pocket, why?” You started to get up. Your entire body was sore, but it was manageable. Whoever put you in the bed left your shoes on, making this escape entirely easier. You reached into your back pocket to feel for any dollar bills.

“We should prob’ly bring them home some food to butter ‘em up.”

“You’re gonna make me pay?”

“Well, you’re the one who started this mess.” You sighed, but didn’t disagree.

Best Friend

I stared down at the gravestone they’d given him. It was plain. His name. His birth date. His death date. Nothing else. 

Johnny Cade was worth so much more than this. So much more than what his parents made of him. Anger welled up in my chest and all I wanted to do was kick over the slab of rock that wasn’t good enough for a hero. 

But I didn’t. I wouldn’t. I…couldn’t.

The skies opened up on me as I knelt down in the fresh dirt, not caring about dirtying my clothes. It had only been days since the funeral but I found myself back here. Again. 

He was my best friend. And now he was gone. 

I wish I had been able to do more and now I felt completely useless.

As the rain poured down around me, the ground beneath me softened and turned into mud, but still I knelt, reading his name over and over like an incantation- a spell- that could somehow bring him back to life. But, I knew it wouldn’t work, no matter how much I hoped and prayed. 

I felt the hole in my chest would never be mended. I felt like I would live my life as the ghost of a person who lost their best friend early on and was never able to pull themselves out of the pit of mourning. 

And that’s when I heard them, even through the waterfall of rain currently beating down on my body, soaking me down to the bone. The footsteps coming up behind me.

I knew who it was without even looking. I’d memorized the sound of his gait many years ago when I’d first met him and Johnny in elementary school. 

“Y/N?” Ponyboy Curtis called my name. Through the water drumming down on the ground between us, he sounded far away. I tilted my head to show that I’d heard him, but I refused to speak.

If I opened my mouth, I was afraid that my soul would spill out through my lips. Pony already had enough on his plate. I couldn’t bear the lay my own burdens on the only friend I had left. 

“We’ve been lookin’ for ya everywhere,” he said, coming up next to me. “Have you been here this whole time?”

I looked back at the gravestone and nodded. 

“You can’t stay out here, y/n. You’re gonna get sick.”

I heaved a sigh.

“I don’t care.”

“You may not, but I do.” I felt his hands under my armpits as he tried to hoist be back to my feet, but I slumped like dead weight and he had trouble heaving me up. Ponyboy grunted above me and lifted me despite my protest. 

Once I was upright, I shoved him away. He slid back a few inches in the mud.

“Just leave me alone, Pony,” I muttered and wiped the water off my face as it streamed into my eyes. 

“Why, so you can wallow in your own grief?” The quake in his voice made my own chin tremble. I tried to hold it back, but a rage pulsed through my body- my veins- like it’d replaced my very blood. 

“Maybe it’s what I want!”

“Do you think this is what he would’ve wanted?”

“He ain’t here, is he?” 

“What a great way to remember him.”

“Why can’t you just let me be?”

“He was my friend, too!” Pony shouted. I finally looked him in the face. My mouth snapped shut at his expression and defensive stance. He was glaring- actually glaring- at me, tears running down his cheeks, obvious even through the downpour. 

We stared at each other for a few long seconds, both breathing heavily, until he relaxed and he sighed.

“I loved him too, y/n,” he started, wiping the tears and rainwater from his face with the heel of his palm. “And it would kill him all over again to know this is how he left us.”

I felt the dam I’d built up to contain my feelings start to crack. It started spider-webbing and the concrete of my mind shattered, opening the floodgates as my friend’s words laid heavily on me. 

I realized that he was right. 

Johnny didn’t want this for us. For me. For Pony. 

My shoulders tensed and started shaking as sobs starting wracking my body. 

The rain slowed around us to a soft drizzle as I cried. 

“I m-miss him, P-Pony,” I stuttered between breaths. 

Strong arms wrapped around me, holding me tightly. Ponyboy laid his head on top of mine, letting me get it all out.

“I miss him, too.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. 

“How do we get along without him?”

“I don’t know, y/n, but we’ll figure it out, okay?” He ran his hands up and down my back, trying to comfort me. I nodded into his chest.

“Okay,” I agreed. 

“We should prob’ly get outta here, huh? You’re freezin’. If we’re out here any longer we’ll both get sick.”