Chapter Twenty-One - Ponyboy

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"Listen, you can't call me at my house."

I was sure I sounded exasperated over the phone, speaking through gritted teeth and attempting to keep my voice as low as possible. 

"Look, kid, I'm aware of your situation, but to be honest with you it's annoying as hell trying to contact you otherwise." I could hear the sound of someone tapping a pencil on a tabletop across the line and could tell Tim was losing his patience.

"Okay, well ..." I glanced into the kitchen, only a few feet away, where Darry and Diana were chatting as they started to make dinner. "Do you want my brothers to ask questions, or no? Because if you keep calling me here someone's going to overhear something before long. It's only a matter of time."

"Pony, " Tim sighed, "You know you're not really in a place to be making demands of me."

I fought the urge to clear my throat. "I know."

He sighed again wordlessly.

After a long, long pause, in which the pencil tapping increased in intensity and then ceased altogether, he finally spoke again. "Tell you what, here's what you'll do. If you don't want me to call you, you're going to have to call me. I want daily check-ins. I want you to call me every day at three thirty sharp or I'm driving to your school to have a little chat with you in-person."

"Yessir."

"I don't care what phone you use. This phone,  a payphone, the school phone - " He giggled darkly. "Hell. Break in someplace. But you get your ass to a phone every day and you call me at this number - every day. Three thirty sharp. Understand?"

"Yessir."

"Good. See, you're so much easier to deal with when you're obedient," Tim said, and I could imagine him curling up his lip to reveal his sharp, shark's smile.

"I'll take that as a compliment. Sir," I added through pursed lips, just to humour him.

"Oh, boy, Curtis, you're gonna kill me with that 'sir' shit," he chuckled. "And yeah, buddy, I think we'll get through with this just fine. You just listen to me and all will be well."

"Right." I breathed a tiny sigh of relief; I seemed to have placated him, at least for the moment. 

He cleared his throat. "Now that we've got that all settled, we've got a little something else to discuss. But seeing as you're home right now, it might be best to wait until tomorrow - three thirty sharp, haha - to talk about it. Wouldn't do for someone to overhear."

"Yeah."

"Tell you what. I'm going to meet you in the parking lot of the high school at three thirty tomorrow. We've got a little business to take care of and I'll fill you in on the way."

"S-sounds fine," I replied. That should work out okay, so long as I managed to sneak away without Betty Anne getting too worried. Or getting a glimpse of Tim's car. "What car should I expect?"

"You're getting good at this. Attuned to the details. I'll be in the pickup. The Rambler's still on reserve until the fuzz cools down about the bank holdup."

"Right," I repeated.

"Well, see you then, Ponyboy. Three thirty sharp, school parking lot. Bye, now."

"Bye," I returned, but he had already hung up.

~~~~~

The next day at school, I was a nervous wreck. Pasting a nonchalant grin on my face to reassure Betty Anne wasn't helping, either, but I had promised myself I wouldn't worry her. I couldn't have her sticking her nose in where it didn't belong - both for her sake and mine.

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