𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐘

𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

We'd only been staying in the church for five days now, but it felt like so much longer.

I was starting to get sick, I could easily tell. I had a lot less energy and it was hard to keep things down.

Ponyboy was getting sick too, it was probably from all the cigarettes he's smoked since we got here, and it was a lot.

We were running out of food quickly, all that was left what bologna and bread. I think I would've turned into a sandwich if I ate one, one more time.

By the fifth day, Ponyboy had been up to Sherman's siege of Atlanta in gone with the wind. The boys had been playing games of poker and owed each other some cigarettes and money. I was trying not to get sick but ended up throwing up everything I ate. Ponyboy had gotten sick too, he was laying in a corner curled into a ball. I wished I could've done something, but I was no doctor.

I was laying outside,  smoking a cigarette and trying not to throw up, while Johnny sat on the back steps of the church trying to read the book.

The kiss between me and Johnny replayed in my mind a lot. I wasn't sure what to call us. We'd kissed a couple of times after that, trying to hide it from Ponyboy because he was a real jokester about it.

Lost in my head, I'd barely heard Johnny say, "Has anyone told you how pretty you are?"

"What?" I looked at him, smiling. I couldn't tell if I was blushing or if it was from a fever I was getting.

"If they haven't, which they should've. You're really pretty." He said again, looking back at the book.

"You know, I'd kiss you if I didn't feel like crap."

"You still could, if you wanted, of course."

Then, as I was about to say something. I heard a high-pitched whistling sound.

"You hear that, too?" I said.

"Dally!" Johnny said, getting up quickly, discarding the book.

"Hiya Johnny, Shelly." He winked at me.

"Hey Dal," I said getting up.

We walked back into the church, where a now blonde Ponyboy was sleeping.

"Glory, he looks different with hair like that." Dallas nudged Ponyboy with the toe of his boot.

Ponyboy then opened his eyes, "Hey Dally!"

"Hey, Ponyboy! - or should I say Sleeping Beauty?"

Ponyboy looked happy to see Dally, I mean we all were.

"How's Sodapop? Are the fuzz after us? Is Darry all right?" Do the boys know where we are?" What ..." Ponyboy was talking a mile a minute.

"Hold on, kid," Dally said, cutting Ponyboy off. "I can't answer everything at once. You three wanna get something to eat? I skipped breakfast and I'm about starved."

"You're starved?" Johnny said, it sounded like a squeak.

"If I ever look at bologna again I might die." I groaned, the idea of eating it making me feel sicker.

"Is it safe to go out?" Ponyboy asked eagerly.

"Yep," Dally's hands went into his pockets, "Gotta cancer stick, Johnnycake?"

I laughed a little at the name. Johnny acted like he didn't but he secretly thought it was cool that Dallas Winston called him a nickname.

"How you doin', Shelly?" Dally asked, looking at me now.