Dallas Winston Has A Sister? 2 (Outsiders Fanfic)

An Accident?

Note to Readers:  This is another one that's a little off, but if you like it I'll write another part, so please comment and vote.

I followed Pony into the kitchen and asked him, "Come on, what's bugging you?" because he had been acting off for the past two days, and ignoring me whenever I asked him what was up.

"Nothing," he muttered, obviously lying because he kept his back turned to me.

"Yeah right," I scoffed and then pestered, "Seriously, what's wrong?" taking a step closer to him.

"Why do you always do that?!" he suddenly shouted, whipping around to face me, anger in his eyes and his arm out in a frustrated what-the-hell gesture.  But as he spun around, he backhanded me right across the cheek.

We both froze, and everyone else, who had turned to see what was going on, fell dead silent, staring at us standing there in the kitchen, only a couple feet apart.  Pony stared at me, his arm still in mid-air, a look of shock on his face and his mouth open like he was going to say something.  But nothing came out.

My cheek was stinging, I could feel the skin turning bright red, and without a word I turned and walked out the door.

I kept going until I was about two blocks away from their house before I broke out in a run.  Pony liked to run, part of my brain reminded me, and I hated everything about him right now, but  I shoved the thought away and told myself I didn't care.  I kept running, planning on heading to the lot, but before I made it there I stopped and sat down on the curb, trying to keep myself from crying.

He had hit me.  Pony had never hit me before, thought it's not like I had never hit him...not like that though.  Usually it was a playful slug to the shoulder or an annoyed smack on the head, but not deliberately meant to hurt him.

I furiously wiped away the hot tears trickling down my cheeks and sniffled once and then stopped crying before I had even really started.  I wasn't sure if the tears had been tears of pain or tears of anger, but my cheek ached and I wouldn't be surprised if I had a bruise by the next day.

I just sat there, numb on the outside even though my thoughts were turmoil on the inside.  I didn't know what to do, what to feel, what had even really happened or what was going to happen.

All the sudden I heard someone walking near me and spotted a person stopping on the sidewalk to my left out of my peripheral vision.

"I'm not talking to you," I stated coldly and got up to leave, but whoever it was reached out and grabbed my wrist.  I jerked it away and turned to glare at them, only to see it was Soda, not Ponyboy. Oh.

"He didn't mean it.  It was an accident," Soda said sincerely.

"Didn't seem like it.  And did he say that or are you just making it up?" I snapped.

"He said it was an accident," he responded.

Sure he did, I thought bitterly to myself.  "Good to know," I said flatly, entirely sarcastic and then I spun on my heel and started stalking away.

"Tara, wait!  Tara!" Soda called after me, but I ignored him and kept walking.

I was still furious, not sure if I should believe Pony's apology--or so Soda had said--or not.  I was so mad I wasn't even thinking.  The street was nearly deserted, it was nine o'clock on a Sunday morning so everyone was either in church or in bed, so no one was around to see me break into a closed gas station.

I got in by wrapping my jacket around my fist--I wasn't dumb enough to leave my blood at a crime scene--and punched right through the window of the front door, unlocking it and then going inside.  No security cameras to identify me, so I busted open the drawer on the cash register and grabbed all the money, stuffing it in my jacket pockets and casually strolling out.

I didn't need the money, I didn't care if I got caught, I just needed to do something to get over this.  Or not get over it.  Godammit, I felt like killing Ponyboy.

Which means I had to get out of town before I was convicted for something much more serious than robbing a gas station.