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𝙿𝚘𝚗𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝙼𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚎𝚕 𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚜
 

    "How come you're not sick of that book yet?" I asked.
    Georgia shrugged her shoulders. "It's a good book. Don't judge me." She evilly glared at me. We were walking back from a reading session at the lot, kicking rocks down the street and finishing a bottle of Pepsi while we talked.
    "Reading in the middle of the day makes the day seem longer." I said.
    "No it doesn't, you're just weird." Georgia responded giddily.
    "Gee, thanks." My laugh came out in a short breath and I looped my fingers into my belt loops. "I thought we already knew that." I said.
   "Just thought I had to remind you!" Georgia teased with a sly grin on her face. She's funny like that, her being the sweetest person I know and also teasing the hell out of everyone.
   Her and Two-Bit are both real funny, just different types—they both keep the gang laughing at ourselves but Two-Bit saw things straight and made them into something funny, while Georgia stated her mind and just so happened to be funny. I told her this on our walk home and we both laughed and discussed my observation.
      "Two-Bit's always been like that," She said, "The first time I ever saw him with a straight face was when he was 15. Can you imagine that? Not being serious for 15 years?"
    I stuffed my hands in my pockets. "Do you think he fakes it?" I asked.
   "No." Georgia said outwardly and calmly like it was a fact. "I think he just sees the world as it is and rolls with the punches."
   "I wish I was like that sometimes. I wish I didn't care so much." Thinking about everything wore me out. It was a constant uncontrollable action of questioning every aspect of life and dissecting the meanings of people's words. Caring about so much makes you feel like your brain is crowded and you can't breath. It was tiring to do all that thinking everyday.
    Georgia showed me her pretty smile. "Caring isn't bad, Ponyboy. It just means that you have a wider scope of the world then most people. Most people are stuck in a loop of life that doesn't let them see things, but you.. you stop and take a look at everything."
    I felt a small smile push at my cheeks, so small that it probably wasn't visible. Not that it was meaningless, I smiled like that because of how thoughtful her words were. "I could say the same for you.
  Georgia cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah, How come?"
   I had been waiting for this one. "Because the way I see it is that we all start of gold, like our poem that we like, and then we go silver. I don't think you'll ever be silver like the everyone else. I think that the rest of the world will be silver and you'll be gold forever. That's just how you are, you see the world and you don't let it tarnish you." That thought had been cooking in my brain for a while. And it might've been weird that I had been thinking about something so specific, but to me it was normal. I thought about her all the time.
    I suddenly remembered a time when Georgia and I were sitting in my living room talking about life. I said something smart and she said "I wish I could live inside your mind." to which I responded, "You already do."
    We smiled at the memory. "And then Soda barged in and started talking about his day." Georgia giggled breathily.
    I grinned, "Yeah. And then he started making fun of Steve who was listening to us."
    "My god, Steve is nosey. I'm only realizing it now." Our conversation of our memory carried on as we walked. We were having a grand time before we spotted a red Corvair trailing us. We were almost home then, so I started walking a little faster and wrapped an arm around Georgia's shoulders.
   I knew it wasn't any use though—the fast walking, I mean—even before the Corvair pulled up beside us and five Socs got out. I got pretty scared. Georgia was getting jittery too. I automatically slouched and pulled Georgia closer, wondering if we could get away if we made a break for it.
    I was sweating something fierce, although I was cold. I could feel my palms getting clammy and the perspiration running down my back. I get like that when I'm real scared. I glanced around for a pop bottle or a stick or something—Steve once held off four guys with a busted pop bottle—but there was nothing. So I stood there like a bump on a log, holding on to Georgia, while they surrounded us. They walked around slowly, silently, smiling.
   "Hey, grease," one said in an over-friendly voice. "We're gonna do you a favor, greaser. We're gonna cut all that long greasy hair off."
He had on a madras shirt. One of them laughed, then yanked Georgia from my arms.
  "Need a haircut, greaser?" The medium-sized blond pulled a knife out of his back pocket and flipped the blade open.
   "Let go of her. She's not a greaser, she's a Soc like you." I lied, trying anything to get Georgia out of this situation. I had seen Johnny after four Socs got hold of him, and it wasn't pretty. Johnny was scared of his own shadow after that. No one should have to be be looking over their shoulder all the time.
   They had me down not even a second after I spoke. They had my arms and legs pinned down and one of them was sitting on my chest with his knees on my elbows. I had no idea what was happening to Georgia and I fought to get loose, and almost did for a second; then they tightened up on me and the one on my chest slugged me a couple of times. So I lay still, swearing at them between gasps. A blade was held against my throat.
   "How'd you like that haircut to begin just below the chin?"
   I heard Georgia yell. I wanted so badly to help her but I couldn't. It occurred to me then that they could kill us. I went wild. I started screaming for Soda, Darry, anyone. Someone put his hand over my mouth, and I bit it as hard as I could, tasting the blood running through my teeth. I heard a muttered curse and got slugged again, and they were stuffing a handkerchief in my mouth.
   One of them kept saying, "Shut him up, for Pete's sake, shut him up!"
   Then there were shouts and the pounding of feet, and the Socs jumped up and left me lying there, gasping. Then someone had me under the armpits and was hauling me to my feet. It was Darry.
   "Are you all right, Ponyboy?"
   He was shaking me and I wished he'd stop. I was dizzy enough anyway. I could tell it was Darry though—partly because of the voice and partly because Darry's always rough with me without meaning to be.
   "I'm okay. Quit shaking me, Darry, I'm okay."
   Darry, without a word of conformation, rushed passed me to help Georgia.
   Sodapop came loping back and rushed to my side to make sure I was fine. He pulled out a handkerchief, wet the end of it with his tongue, and pressed it gently against the side of my head. "You're bleedin' like a stuck pig."
   I couldn't have cared less about if I was bleeding on not, I just wanted to see if Georgia got hurt. Soda, only then realizing that Georgia got jumped too, rushed to Darry's side with me right at his heals.
   My heart sank the second I saw her. One big cut stretched from the end of her right eyebrow, all the way down to her chin. It didn't look like they punched her but I knew that cut would scar.
   The gang had chased the Socs to their car and heaved rocks at them. They came running toward us now. Two-Bit looked at me quickly before rushing to wrap Georgia in a hug. "For christ sake Georgie, what'd they do to you?" He said, and his voice was serious for once.
   "Does it look as bad as it feels?" Georgia asked and touched her face gingerly.
   Our eyes met and I rushed to wrap her in a hug. My chest was hurting from the weight of the guy who sat on it, but that didn't matter right now. "Are you okay?" I asked while ignoring the pain.
    "Kind of." She mumbled close to my ear, so no one but me would hear. "What about you, are you alright?" She pulled away and observed me closely. I looked away hurriedly, because, if you want to know the truth, I was starting to bawl. I didn't want to answer her question in front of the gang, especially Darry, because I knew I would start crying. You just don't cry in front of Darry. Not unless you're hurt like Johnny had been that day we found him in the vacant lot. Compared to Johnny I wasn't hurt at all. Most of the time us greasers don't react much when a buddy of ours is jumped, it's normal around here.
   I wiped my eyes hurriedly and turned to face the gang. "Didya catch 'em?"
  "Nup. They got away this time, the dirty..." Two-Bit went on, calling the Socs every name he could think of or make up. "Nice-lookin' bruise you got there, kid." He said once he cooled down.
    I touched my cheek gingerly. "Really?"
Two-Bit nodded sagely. "Nice cut, too. Makes you look tough."
     "Same thing with little-red over here." Dallas swung an arm over Georgias shoulder as we walked home. "You, uh—" he waved his hand whilst searching for words, "You alright, kid?" I would have never expected him to say what he did. Dally never talked like that. Never. I thought Dal didn't give a Yankee dime about anyone but himself, and that he was cold and hard and mean.
    Georgia smiled lightly. She saw his effort of empathy. "I'm alright Dal, thanks."
   Dallas lit a cigarette and handed it to Johnny.  "I'm gonna make it my business to kill the guys that did this to you."
   Everyone sat down to have a smoke and relax. A smoke always lessens the tension. I had quit trembling and my color was back. The cigarette was calming me down.
    "Well anyway,"—Dally yawned, flipping away his cigarette butt—"I'm walkin' over to the Nightly Double tomorrow night. Anybody want to come and hunt some action?"
    Steve shook his head. "Me and Soda are pickin' up Evie and Sandy for the game."
   Dally looked at the rest of us. "How about y'all? Two-Bit? Johnnycake? You, Georgie and Pony wanta come?"
   "We'll go," I said. I knew Johnny wouldn't open his mouth unless he was forced to and that Georgia would say yes anyway. "Okay, Darry?"
    "Fine." Darry grumbled. "Only if you won't be walking home alone this time." He crossed his burley arms across his chest.
    Steve flicked his cigarette ashes at me. "What were you doin', walkin' by your lonesome anyway." Leave it to good old Steve to bring up something like that.
   "None of your business, smarty pants." I said. Steve's always in everybody's business.
   Steve didn't like that. "What'd you mean it's none of my business?" He said angrily, and Sodapop pushed his shoulder. "It is my business, look at my nose!" Steve pointed to where he was punched; his gigantic nose.
   "It's huge." I scoffed, but he was referring to the damage, not the size. "Besides, I wasn't alone. I was with Georgia."
   "The two of you walking together is just as safe as you walking alone." Darry broke in, "And if you did go by yourself, you should have carried a blade."
   Soda was glaring at him. "Leave my kid brother alone, you hear? It ain't his fault the Socs like to jump us, and if he had been carrying a blade it would have been a good excuse to cut both him and Georgie into ribbons."
    Darry said impatiently, "When I want my kid brother to tell me what to do with my other kid brother, I'll ask you— kid brother." His hands balled into fists and a heavy silence fell over us.
    "Well," Georgia said in a silky tone, trying to  break the tension, "My face is hurting more. Darry, could you help me clean this?" She pointed to the side of her face. I smiled at Georgia, which was my way of thanking her for getting Darry off my back.
    Darry went inside with Georgia and the rest of us talked. "That shiner of hers sure is bad." Sodapop sighed once Georgia and Darry left.
   Steve kicked his foot into the dirt. "Why were them Socs here anyway? This here is our territory."
   Sodapop leaned on the hood of Two-Bit's car "It won't happen again after the slugging that blondie got from Dal."
   Dally merely looked off down the road. I don't think he was paying attention. "I don't get it, man." His shoulders stiffened and his face contorted with confusion. "Who could hit a little girl?"
   The concept seemed unfathomable to Dal. It was the one thing Dallas didn't do—He got drunk, he rode in rodeos, lied, cheated, stole, rolled drunks, jumped small kids, and everything except mess with girls. Sure, he'd sweet talk girls and make them mad, but he'd never hit a woman. None of us would, and we didn't expect any less from the Socs.
   That really says something—Dallas Winston, the tuffest hood in Tulsa, wouldn't do something that the Socs don't think twice about. It seemed so strange to me how Socs could act just like hoods and still be praised like a hero.
   I was still thinking about it while I was sitting on Georgia's bed that night. The gang was playing poker in the Mathew's living room while we were upstairs talking about the jumping.
  "I'm sorry." I said lowly. "I shoulda done something."
   "There was nothing you could do. I would've done something too, if I could." Her expression dulled. "I'm okay though, all they did was cut me a little." She shrugged and began scratch at her cuticles.
     "Are you sure?"
    Georgia peered at me through her bangs as she continued to pick at her nail beds. "I just felt so weak when they backed me against that wall," Her eyes darted down, "and I don't like relying on anyone but myself, so when I couldn't anything, I just felt so weak."
   I reached out and grabbed her hand, relaxing the both of us. "You're not weak, Georgie. You should know that."
   Georgia gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "Thank you Pone."  Under her lips was a soft smile that made me melt by just looking at her. She was the perfect sight for my sore eyes and I didn't stop staring until Georgia started speaking again. "It's kind of weird how little it bothers me. The only thing that upset me was what I did, not them. I think I'm just used to it. I knew it would happen one day."
    "Me too." I admitted. It felt nice to finally say the words I held in. "I knew the Socs would get me one day, but even still it spooked me."
     "And that's alright." Georgie ran her thumb back and forth across the back of my hand. "It's all right to be scared. The guys don't know that, so I don't blame you for only telling me now."
    Georgias words helped me but I still felt uneasy. "I'm still scared, Georgia. Why do we have to get jumped all the time? Why can't Socs just leave us alone? We're all the same, can't they see that?" My face was burning up and I felt like I was about to cry. Before I knew it, I was wrapped in a hug and hot tears started slowly rolling down my cheeks.
   All the emotions and feelings that I had ignored for years finally got out. I wasn't just frustrated about what happens that day, I was also frustrated about when Johnny got jumped, and when Steve barely escaped four Socs hanging up on him last year, and all the mockery us greasers get for just plain living.  It wasn't fair for the Socs to have everything. We were as good as they were; it wasn't our fault we were greasers. I couldn't just take it or leave it, like Two-Bit, or ignore it and love life anyway, like Sodapop, or harden myself beyond caring, like Dally, or actually enjoy it, like Tim Shepard.
      Neither me or Georgia said anything for a while. We just held eachother, thinking about the times we lived in. Was our rivalry with the Socs gonna end? Would we make it out okay? The unanswered questions slowly drifted from my mind as the night went on. Georgia and I remained in her room for the rest of the night talking about nothing in particular. I was uncertain if Georgia was asleep or not. She was running her fingers through my hair while I rested my head just above her stomach. Georgias nails brushed down the back of my neck and my spine chilled like I had been touched by soft snow.
    The goosebumps it gave me only went away when I fell asleep. I had slept at Georgias house quite a lot during the past few weeks. I savored every moment I spent with her, because being with Georgia made me feel like everything would be alright for once. You would think we had known eachother for years after seeing how we acted around each other. It kind of felt like we had actually known each other for years. We just understood each other right away and didn't question it because there was nothing to question. Understanding someone doesn't come with time, it just happens and neither of us were against that fact.

ITS ABOUT TIME ➤ Ponyboy CurtisOn viuen les histories. Descobreix ara