The Fox and the Flower

Pony took me down to this little fast food deal, The Dingo, and got us both a bottle of Coke like he promised. We sat out front on one of the rusty picnic tables where we could see everything and from then on we just...talked. It was strange, we didn't talk about anything that was going on in our lives at the moment, but just little things like the last movie he saw or why we both seem to like poetry. Me for lyrical reasons and him just for the soul purpose of it. I also learn little things about him, like the whole story behind why he likes his eggs sunny side up instead of scrambled and I let a few things about myself spill like my song book and my constant need for an instrument.

"We have a piano in our living room ya' know." He says, taking a sip of his drink.

"Really? I don't remember seein' one at your house."

"Oh, believe me it's there. You can come over and play it if you want. Not like anyone uses it anymore."

When he finishes that sentence he pulls out yet another cancer stick and lights it up. God, I wish he wouldn't smoke so much. It kind of breaks my heart a little when I see it, 'cause I know some people use it to relieve stress and I know what it does to them probably a bit more than I should. I don't say anything though, today I want to be free of problems even if it's just for a couple minutes. Besides, I don't want to be one of those people. Shaking off my thoughts, I reach a hand out to take a drink, but with the wrong one. Right when my fingers grip the glass, pain spikes through out my hand and I immediately let it go which makes the bottle wobble a bit. Taking my hand in my other, I have to bite the inside of my cheek so no sound comes out. I pray that he didn't notice, that he was looking the other way when it happened, but when I look up his eyes are right on mine.

"Charlotte."

Oh God. Here it goes.

"Who did that to you."

So much for being free of problems. His eyes are dead on me and hard, like he knows, but seeing if I'll tell him to his face. I want to tell him, I really do. Just like how I wanted to tell Shirley. But I can feel my good hand starting to shake in my lap and there's that tightening of my throat again. What am I so afraid of? Am I too prideful or something to tell people I let my uncle slap me around? Ha, that's a laugh. I have nothing to be prideful of. So then what?! This whole thing's eating me up and I can feel it. Like there's a padlock on the door and I can't spill any of it out to keep me from drowning.

My jaw tightens as I force myself to meet his gaze, hoping it'll coax a confession out of me. But there's nothing and I can feel the lie I told Shirley ready on my lips. Before I can stop myself, I part my mouth to say the line when he cuts me off.

"It was a Soc, wasn't it."

I don't know whether I should flat out laugh in his face or cry. Deciding on neither, I just shut my mouth and look back down at my lap. I have two options. I can either go with what he thinks, or tell the truth. The next words out of my mouth don't surprise me in the least.

"Yeah, I walked home alone. It's no big deal, really." I say, looking back up at him and taking a nervous sip of my drink. This time with my good hand.

Pony lets out a big sigh and leans back a little in his seat.

"Jesus, Charlotte, you can't be walkin' alone around here, it's dangerous. Why didn't you ask someone to go with you?" He says, taking a drag from his cigarette.

I just shrug and look at him.

"No one was around. Besides, it's not like they had blades or anythin'." I surprise myself with how relaxed my voice sounds. To be honest, it scares me a little.

He shakes his head ever so slightly and stomps out his cancer stick on the cement. Did it really bother him that much?

"You're just like him." He mumbles.

"Like who?"

His head snaps back up at me, like I wasn't meant to hear that, and he leans forward to rest his arms on the table. I can see him swallow a lump in his throat and he bites his lip, like he's debating something heavy in that mind of his.

"A friend of mine once. That's all." Is all he says.

I know there's more to it. More than he's willing to tell me. But I don't push him for answers. Instead I start talking about the report, which changes the subject pretty well. I seem to be good at that. Suddenly it's like a major weight is lifted and we start talking like we were before. Laughing and joking, debating which character is better. I had no idea he liked to read so much, or that we could talk for so long. I don't remember exactly how or why, but somehow we ended up in a thumb war and it's after the third match that I notice the sun's getting low. Just for the record, I won all three.

"Alright, I gotta get home. Darry'll skin me if I'm late again." Pony says, starting to get up.

I don't know why, but I panic and pull him back down. He looks me over quizzically, his eyebrows furrowed.

"C'mon, one more match." I say breezily, my heart pounding in my chest. I hope he didn't see me freak like that.

"Alright," He says cautiously "but this time, let's make it interesting."

I raise an eyebrow at him and wait for him to speak.

"If I win, you have to come to my house to make me breakfast in the morning and my lunch."

"And if I win?"

"If you win, then..." He looks away and ponders it for a minute "then I'll carry your books all day tomorrow to every class."

A smile crosses my lips as I pretend like I'm really weighing my options. To be honest I didn't want to go home, knowing what's waiting for me there. I'd take any excuse to not go at this point.

"Okay. Hope you're sure 'cause my books are pretty heavy."

He grins at me mischievously and we start. With in five seconds it's apparent that he was letting me win the whole time. Don't know why I didn't question it before, his hand's like twice the size of mine anyway. When he wins I give him a look and he just smiles smugly at me. Which is weird 'cause I've never seen him look smug before.

"You hustled me."

"Whatever you say, just remember I like my eggs sunny side up."

I roll my eyes but smile anyway. It's hard to stay mad at him.

"Yeah, yeah ya' schmuck." I smile, he smiles, and for just a split second it's like a picture perfect image.

We both get up to go and I notice we start on the way to my house first. With every step I can feel the pit in my stomach sink lower and lower and it almost reminds me of that first night I came here. We're half way there, the dirt road is starting to come into view, and that's when I stop. My heart is throbbing in my ears and I feel like I'm going to be sick. Pony stops two feet in front of me and looks back confused, maybe slightly concerned.

"You alright there?"

I'm quick to cover. When I look up at him I pretend like I'm thinking about something and fake a yawn.

"Ya' know, if you want your breakfast in the morning I better sleep at your house. You're not the only one here that goes to school."

In the fading sunlight I can see his cheeks tinge pink a little and if I know him right, it's probably 'cause he didn't know how much it inconvenienced me. It doesn't really, and I feel kind of bad for making him feel bad, but I really don't want to go back. He nods, says 'okay', and we head for the Curtis house. I can't keep doing this. Sleeping at other peoples houses to avoid my own. But I don't let that bother me now, instead I just let the fact I don't have to spend this night with my uncle make me happy. And if I really have to admit it, it doesn't hurt that it's at Ponyboy's house neither.