Chapter Twenty-Eight - Betty

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When I reached the dance floor at the center of the gym, I turned around to look for Pony, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Immediately, a strange, sour feeling took root in my stomach. A smug voice in the back of my head seemed to be murmuring, I told you so. I pushed the voice away in irritation and craned my neck, scanning across the bleachers, wondering if I'd just missed him in the crush of people.

My mouth grew dry as the seconds ticked on. Maybe he bumped into an old friend or something and got stuck talking, I thought to myself. Or maybe he spilled his punch and left to go look for some napkins. But neither of those two explanations did anything to curb the unease that was rippling over my body in waves.

Suddenly, I spotted Bryon making his way toward me through the crowd of dancing couples. His eyes were cast towards the floor, his shoulders hunched, although he looked up to meet my eyes as he got closer to me.

"Hey, Bryon," I said uncertainly.

"Betty," he returned, bobbing his head somewhat awkwardly. "Pony had to use the restroom, so he said it would be okay if I asked you to dance for the next couple songs."

"Oh." I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Something definitely seemed off now - why hadn't Pony just said that to begin with, instead of sending a message through Bryon only a few  minutes after we had just talked? 

"Is - uh - is that all right?" Bryon asked, clearly picking up on my apprehension. 

I shook myself and offered him a small, apologetic smile. "Yes, of course. Sorry."

If dancing with Ponyboy had been uncomfortable for me, dancing with Bryon elevated the awkwardness to an entirely new level. At least I had been familiar with Pony. Outside of a few conversations we'd had at the cafeteria table, though, I'd hardly ever even spoken to Bryon before, much less been so physically close to him for an extended period. He stared either over my shoulder or to the side the entire time we danced without attempting to make conversation, so I didn't, either. The muscles in his shoulder and the base of his neck felt taut beneath my hand.

It was a fast song, which was fortunate; the thought of slow dancing with Bryon brought shivers of embarrassment skating down my spine. I tried to relax, in an attempt to make it a little less cringeworthy, but Bryon was as stiff as a board and I felt myself unable to mellow out around him. Not only that, but something seemed to be troubling him. He kept glancing at the doors to the gymnasium as if he wanted nothing more than to bolt out as fast as he could.

When the song ended, my lungs expanded with relief. I felt like I could breathe again as Bryon took his hand off my waist.

"Well, um, that was fun," I stammered. "Thanks for the dance."

"Sure," Bryon muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Fancy another one?"

"No, that's okay. You can go dance with whoever you want now! I'm good to just go wait for Pony on the bleachers."

"Wait, Betty - how about just one more - ?"

I pretended not to hear him as I pushed through the crowd, back towards our spot on the bleachers. Bryon had clearly enjoyed the dance just as little as I had; why on earth was he so insistent on extending the discomfort? I still couldn't push away the sour feeling in my gut. Maybe something had happened to Pony, and Bryon was in on it .... Maybe he was just trying to distract me from the fact that Pony was missing. 

I bit the inside of my cheek hard. I was so tired of feeling worried all the time. I hated that I felt like I had to constantly keep tabs on Ponyboy, for fear of his safety - and even more that I never felt secure in the explanations he had to offer. No matter how I tried to assure myself, part of me was always going to doubt him. I hated that.

Swallowing hard, I had to squeeze my eyes shut before tears of frustration could form.

"Hey, Betty!"

The sound of a familiar female voice jerked me out of my anxious thoughts.

"Oh, Jodie, hi." I turned to see my friend standing nearby with a slightly confused look on her face. "What's up?"

"How're you liking the dance?" she asked.

"Oh, it's swell," I replied, trying to make my voice sound enthusiastic. "Did you come with anyone?"

"Yeah - Donny Windsor. I think we might start going steady after this," she confided with a happy twinkle in her eye.

"That's great!" As much as I was relieved to have someone sweet to talk to, I was still too distracted by Pony's absence, and I felt myself quickly becoming impatient with the idle chit-chat.

"I saw you dancing with Bryon Douglas. You going steady with him now?"

"No, no," I assured her, somewhat embarrassed. "He and I were just ... He was just ... Just as friends."

"So then you did come with Ponyboy Curtis."

"Yeah." I smiled, but my heart wasn't in it.

She pursed her lips, her eyebrows tilting in confusion. "Wait, but didn't I just see Ponyboy leaving a minute ago? That's why I was a little surprised to see you still here. But then I just thought that you two had broken up."

"Oh, no, not at all!" My words swelled in panic, and Jodie's eyes widened with alarm. I immediately lowered my voice. "I didn't know he left, I thought ..."

I trailed off, stricken with a strong sense of foreboding. Pony left? Why on earth would he leave without telling me? Not only was he my ride home, he was also my date. It would be uncharacteristically ungentlemanly of him to just abandon me like that.

"It was just five or so minutes ago," Jodie continued uncertainly. "Maybe he just stepped out to take a smoke ...?"

"Yeah, maybe," I agreed, chewing on my bottom lip. It certainly was plausible - but I was pretty sure Pony didn't smoke anymore. I had to get outside and see what was going on.

"Thanks for telling me, Jodie. I'll see you around, okay?" I told her with a smile. I was getting awfully good at pasting a fake smile on my face.

"Sure! Take care, Betty!" She sounded concerned, but she returned my smile.

Turning my back on her, I hurried towards the doors of the gymnasium. Bryon's shifty behavior was starting to make sense now - as much as I didn't want to believe it, Pony was up to no good. I pushed open the door. A wave of bitterly cold air hit me like a freight train.

I focused on that smarting chap of the freezing wind instead of the waves of hurt rolling across my heart. Betrayal ached in my throat, melting into tears that threatened to overwhelm my eyes: Pony had lied to me. Again.

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