ITS ABOUT TIME ➤ Ponyboy Curtis

24

𝙿𝚘𝚗𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝙼𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚎𝚕 𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚜

         It was the start of September and school was about to start. Me and Georgia had been dating since August. That month was the best l month I had so far, but I knew that every month would be the best month as long as I was with her. I woke up everyday thinking about her, and fell asleep every night ready to dream of her.
   Georgia was always on my mind. Just like our favorite song. I had bought the song on vinyl and listened to it whenever I could. My days were rather busy, most of my time being spent hanging out with the gang and preparing for school. It was only two days away, September 7th, and I was anxious. I wasn't scared or nervous, just anxious. I just wanted it to be gone and done so I could live through another summer with the gang. I wanted to live through another summer with Georgia.
   Georgia wasn't exited for school one bit, and I couldn't blame her. She brought to my attention the bullying she endured our freshman year. I hadn't really known her then, so I was oblivious to the judgement that she got from others. A pit formed in my heart every time I thought of it. I couldn't wrap my head around it—how could anyone treat Georgie Mathews like that, how could a girl like Georgia be treated like nothing. Georgia was the opposite of nothing, she was everything and more. I guessed that they just lacked the to see true beauty. I was grateful that I could see beauty, both inner and outer. Because of this ability that they lacked and I possessed, I was able to treat Georgia as what she was: a piece of poetry in human form. Poetry had been worshipped since the end of time—from the bible to Shakespeare—so I found it that Georgia was poetry and I was Ponyboy Curtis, a lover of Poetry and Georgia Mathews.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

  "Do you guys have everything you need?" Darry had wanted to ensure that Georgia, Johnny, and I were prepared for the tenth grade. Johnny had suggested he checked in on Two-Bit, because we all knew he wasn't prepared in the slightest, but Darry said it was best to let him figure it out. He's a grown baby, at least that's what Darry called him.
  Darry had us sit at the dinner table and put our supplies in a pile in front of us. We assured him that we were ready for school, so he got to patching up holes in our old school clothes—my school clothes were just my normal clothes, aside from my cut-off sweatshirts since Darry said I couldn't wear them to school. I wasn't happy about that cause I think my cut-offs make me look tuff. Darry didn't care, though—Johnny didn't have school clothes, or a lot of clothes for that matter, so Darry just patched up whatever Johnny needed to be patched. Georgia had a few old skirts from junior high she needed to be fixed. She hasn't worn a skirt since the sixth grade, but she thought she ought to start wearing some again to avoid the negative comments at school. I liked her in jeans, but skirts aren't bad at all.
    As Darry worked on our clothes, Johnny, Georgia, and I figured on hanging at the lot. The gang were all either working or getting boozed up. The three of us didn't drink. Johnny and Georgia because of their parents, and  me because I didn't like it. I tried drinking once before. The stuff tasted awful, I got sick, had a headache, and when Darry found out, I was grounded for two weeks. But that was the last time I'd ever drink. I'd seen too much of what drinking did for you at Johnnys house.
  The walk there was quick. Johnny was showing Georgia an old arrowhead he found at a small stream behind Bucks. I walked behind them, thinking about nothing in particular. We weren't expecting to see anyone at the lot that day. None the less Socs. I found out, after asking Georgia, that the main Soc was the boy who almost broke our entire friendship.
   Phillip and company were waiting for us, dressed in madras shirts or collared ones. I felt Johnny stiffen and I threw my arm around his shoulder. Georgia didn't seem too fazed but she was definitely anxious, I could tell, so I pulled her closer to me by her waste. I saw the effect that had on Phillip, I could see the anger radiate off of him as we approached.
   There were three of them. Phillip, a black haired one, and a one that was ghostly blonde, almost white. Phillip wore plaid pants a white collared shirt. Why he dressed up for the interaction, I don't know. His face was comforted into disgust, most likely from looking at me. The dark haired one, dressed in khakis and a blue madras, stood directly to the right of Phillip. They were in the same stance, legs lined up with shoulders and arms crossed. The blonde one, who was noticeably much smaller than the other two, stood awkwardly to the left of Phillip, almost behind him. He looked  anxious, sorta paranoid. He reminded me of Johnny.
   Unlike Johnny, the gang treats crime as an everyday activity. Johnny steals when he wants, fights when he has too, and bad mouths whenever Dal says he should. He's not one to start anything, especially after he got jumped by the  Socs almost two years ago. Johnny ain't a wimp, and he sure ain't weak, but he gets anxious real fast. This kid seemed like the same. I don't know why they decided to spend their day in greaserville but he didn't seem to happy about it.
   I prepared to shoot something wise at them, something Dallas would say, but Georgia beat me to it. "What'd you want, Phillip?" She spat, and crossed her arms.
   He didn't even look at Georgia. His eyes burned into my face instead. "So this is why you stood me up?" he sneered, "A longhaired, piece of trash?"
  "I was thinking the same thing about you when I saw your lousy face." I shot back at him. I was pretty darn proud about how fast I thought of that—I've never been great with quick jabs like Two-Bit or Dally or Georgia.
  Johnny, surprisingly, jumped into the argument as Phillip looked at the other Socs that stood next to him, seemingly hoping they'd say something back at me. Johnny said, anxiously, "What's with the company?" and slouched down. He didn't speak up often, but the gang was always proud of him when he did. I gave him a pat on the shoulder, a small one so they didn't see.
   "I new some greaseball like ya'll would be trailing after her." It seemed like all Phillip could do was make fun of us greasers. He was a one trick pony.
   "So you were scared of a little action?" I scoffed. "Run your mouth all you want, we'll win." I said, but doubted myself. I tried my best to scare him, putting my elbow on Johnnys shoulder as he stood taller. We could look meaner than anything when we want to—looking tough comes in handy.
   Georgia was madder by then. "Phillip, you didn't answer my question."
   Phillip huffed. "I came here to ask you what I did wrong. I wanted a reason why you didn't want to go out on that date." He paused and glances at Johnny and I, "But now that I know why, I have different plans."
   "And what's that?" I would be lying if I didn't know what he meant. It was clear as day.
    "A rumble."