𝑹𝒐𝒅𝒆𝒐𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒏

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SAGE POV
Steve came back to the trunk. Soda and I were talking about the rodeo. I learned how rodeos work from how Soda would explain it to me. As Steve drove down the street, I grabbed his cigarettes and lighters.

I was nearly about to grab one until the pack was snatched out of my hands as I looked up to Soda, grinning, "Soda, Hun, can I please have the cancer sticks back." I asked. he shook his head and stuck his tongue out at me.

"I'm looking out for you, sweetheart. I'm saving your pretty lungs." He said and set the cigarette pack on the dashboard. I was pissed; he never cared if I smoked. Besides, I only smoke two times a day, unlike the rest, who could smoke two packs a day.

As we pulled up to the rodeo, Steve opened my door, helped me down from the trunk, and handed Soda and me a cigarette, and we all lit it all at once. We would watch a rodeo every time only because we wanted to look tough.

we walked over to where the riders held the horse and Soda; I was petting them, "I'm going to head to see Tim and Curly." Steve said and walked away.

I walked over to a beautiful black horse and started to pet it. "What a pretty girl like you doing all alone? I turned around to a man in his thirties who was dirty. "Sorry, I'm with someone," I said calmly, hoping he would leave me alone.

"Oh really, I would like to meet him," he said. Before I could respond, an arm wrapped around me. I looked to see who it was until it smelled like gasoline and smoke. I knew it was Sodapop and probably Steve with him for backup.

"Look, pal, leave my girl alone," Soda demanded. He stared the man down as he walked away, not putting up a fight. "You ok, baby?" Steve asked. I shook my head and hugged him and Soda. "Thanks, guys."

"It's no problem, and we will always be there for you," Soda said; he pulled me in for a hug. Footsteps came closer, and Soda tightened his grip on me as Tim Shepherd and Curly Shepherd came over. "Randle, how about you guys come to sit with us, so when you lose, I can have my money," Tim said as Soda let me go, and we walked with Tim and Curly over to a couple of the burmly boys.

I stood close to Steve and Soda; I never trusted the Shepherds and Burmly boys. I looked down at my hands, as I had a scar on my finger from when I played chicken with Curly and Pony. We all stand there holding cigarettes to our fingers as the smell of burning flesh fills the air. It was sickening.

Three years ago, when we played, I didn't play anymore, but I would watch Steve and Dal play as they would do three Cigarettes to one finger. It was painful to watch, but it proved that you were tough.

The loudspeaker shouted as the first rider came out. We stood at the fence and watched as riders fell off their horse, stomped on, and cried out in pain. I remember watching Soda ride Mickey during rodeos until he tore a ligament, and his dad made him quit. Even though his parents died last year and he could ride again, he didn't want to disrespect his father's rule, so he didn't and only watched.

I leaned my head on his shoulder until a flash of blonde hair came before us and shouted. "GO, BABY!" The girl shouted. I could recognize the voice that was Sandy, Soda's girl. "Sandy?" Soda questioned. She turned around, and her big blue eyes widened as she saw us. A man came behind her and hugged her. "How is the baby doing?" He asked. I looked over at Soda as his eyes filled with tears.

"What the hell is wrong with you," I yelled at her. "I'm sorry, Sodapop, but I found someone new, and I was going to break up with you tomorrow, but I guess we're over." She explained calmly. Steve and the Shepherd boys walked over, looking pissed.

We put our most brutal faces on to scare her and the boy. Even though we are not a part of the Shepherd gang. We are all greasers, and we look out for each other. "You know what, Sandy, I am happy that I didn't propose to you, and now I know that you don't deserve my love and trust," Soda said. Steve pulled him away so he wouldn't hit. Curly and I had our switchblade open just in case.

As they walked away and Sandy cried, Soda grabbed Steve's cancer sticks, lit one, and inhaled the smoke that filled your lungs with harsh chemicals. We walked back to the trunk; since Soda didn't want to stay to watch the rodeo, as we made it, he took the backseat so I could sit up front. Soda was sitting and looking out the window. I felt terrible for him.

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