The Outsiders Imagines

Sodapop

I gritted my teeth as I stormed through my family's house and straight to the shed. The burning sensation of anger and frustration was filling my body as I stalked towards the bag hanging from the roof.

I threw my bag across the room and shed my long sleeved top leaving me in only a tank top and jeans. I started to punch the boxing bag hoping it'd make me feel better.

It's not my fault I have a temper. It's not my fault I'm a terrible person. This anger made me dangerous and I thought for a moment I wouldn't make it home in time and knock someone out.

My hands began to burn and sting from the continous torture I was putting them through. I continued lifting my right leg every now and then hoping to drain my anger faster.

I brought my bare fists to the rough and worn bag for a good fifteen minutes before I was interrupted by the door opening.

"(Y/N)?" His voice.

I stopped abusing the bag, took a step back and breathed deeply. Once. Twice.

"Yes?" I replied turning around and facing my boyfriend, Sodapop Curtis.

"You feelin' better now?" He questioned me obviously knowing of my outburst.

I shook my head.

"Not even close." I smiled sweetly digging my nails into the palms of my hands.

I spun around and continued to hit the bag ignoring the constant stinging in my hands.

"Hey hey hey." Soda called grabbing my arm and pulling me away from my venting machine.

"What?!" I snapped angrily itching to continue punching something.

"At least wrap your hands or put on gloves first, please?" He asked.

I sighed before holding my hand out knowing he'd already have found it. He grinned before handing me the tape.

I sat where I was standing and wrapped my bruising and bleeding knuckles. I stared at my hands and noticed they were shaking. Shaking with anger at everyone, everything. The words. The comments. The insults.

"Argh!" I shouted jumping to my feet and punching even harder than before.

Soda simply leaned against the wall and waited. Waited for me to finish letting my anger out or break the bag whichever came first.

My constant hitting echoed around the nearly empty and dirty shed. Only a two or three boxes and a shelf filled with tins of paint filled the room aside my boxing bag and small bag shoved into the corner that held my wrap.

This was my safe place. This was where I was happy. Or you could see it as this is where I go to not knock someones lights out.

"(Y/N) that's enough!" Sodapop's voice broke my concentration and as my hand was brought to the bag again a shuddering pain was sent up my arm causing me to wince in pain.

"What?" I asked gripping my sore arm.

"You're bleeding." He stated walking towards me.

I looked down at my hands, even though they were covered, blood was ozing out from underneath the wrap.

"Looks like I'll need to save for some more, stupid fucking things." I swore tearing them off.

"Do you feel better now?" Soda asked placing a hang on my cheek. I looked up at his face of concern and nodded.

"A little bit."

"Good now tell me what happened." He directed and sat us both down on the cold and dirty cement.

"It was nothing, just a stupid argument." I lied. It wasn't a stupid argument, it was the continous comments that riled me up because of who I was and how I acted.

"That's a lie," damn it, "a stupid argument wouldn't make you angry enough to box with that much furiousity for forty minutes."

"I was going for forty minutes?" I asked surprised, surely it'd only been twenty minutes.

"Yes, now what happened?" He asked staring directly into my eyes.

"I uh- there was a bunch of girls and they poked fun at me for being a tomboy, they called me butch and some stupid soc boys said girls can't fight and I got so mad Soda, so fucking mad I thought I was gonna hurt them or someone." I came clean, tears brimming my eyes.

"Baby, baby, baby, look at me. Hey? Look at me okay?" He'd placed his hands on my shoulders and I finally lifted my eyes to look into his.

"Its okay to get angry, it ain't your fault you got a little bit of a temper on you." He winked causing me to giggle then making me mentally slap myself.

"N-no no you don't do that Sodapop! Damn you Sodapop Curtis Im angry! Don't make me laugh damn it you!" I cried half heartedly.

Sodapop grinned and continued.

"It doesn't matter if you're a tomboy or if you can fight. I bet you could've taken out all of those soc guys." Sodapop winked at me making me smile.

"Yeah, I bet I could've." I smirked.

"Thats my girl." He grinned pecking my lips.

"Come on we'll go and clean up your hands and then I'll take you to a movie." Soda said climbing to his feet and then helping me to mine.

"What would I do without you?" I asked teasingly.

"Crash and burn baby, crash and burn." He smirked.

I realise an issue I have with my writing is not being able to make a story flow very well and I'm trying to work on it so sorry if that annoys any of you.