The Fox and the Flower

Ponyboy kept his word and walked me back to my house. I almost couldn't believe it when I walked in and the place was quiet. Apparently my aunt and uncle are deep sleepers. Well, it's only 7:30, school doesn't start till 8:00, and the bus comes at 7:50. I have some time to myself to get ready and do whatever. So I go clean myself up, wash my face, change my clothes, and dust some make-up over the bruises that are visible. It's best that not very many people know what happened last night. There's nothing I can do about it now and it would only cause people unnecessary stress. My aunt stirs right around when I'm stuffing my backpack with all my school supplies. I'll probably only use half of the stuff in the whole year anyway, but teachers have a cow if you forget one little thing.

"You're up early." Aunt Grace comments, turning the coffee pot on.

"Uh, yeah. I'm an early riser." I say easily. Praying on the inside that she doesn't hear my heart pounding in my chest.

"Do you want breakfast? I could whip you up somethin' or-"

"No thanks, I'm fine. I should go." My voice is rushed at the end and I give her a small smile as a goodbye before walking out the door.

The walk to the bus stop is actually kind of long. I have to walk three blocks all the while passing a few sketchy looking houses and buildings. You know what I mean. Paint peeling off the walls, scattered junk in the yards, lawns that could pass for jungles, and the occasional beer bottle left on the porch. But for some reason, they seem different to me. When I was living in Texas I probably wouldn't have dared to walk down a block that even looked suspicious. Now I don't mind so much. None of these houses look all that different from Ponyboy's. Granted, his is better taken care of. But judging by what I know from last night, some of the kids that live there might be my best friends. The wind starts to pick up and I wrap my jacket tighter around myself. Well, maybe I shouldn't call it mine. When Pony walked me home, he told me I could keep it if I wanted it. Said it was getting a too small for him or something like that. Either way I don't mind, his jacket is thicker than any of the hoodies I brought with me. I didn't know Oklahoma could be so chilly.

I've walked a whole two blocks by now and the bus stop is within sight when I hear a car starting to come up behind me. Looking over my shoulder, what I see makes my feet instinctively move faster. It's a nice red mustang and in the driver seat, the boy who punched me in the face. My heart starts beating in my chest at a rapid pace and I grip my backpack strap a little tighter. There's two of his buddies sitting in there with him. Most likely the same two who held me down. One of them whistles to get my attention and I keep my head down. What's their deal? Can't they just leave me alone? Well, you did spit in that guy's eye. Still, this is a little much. Plus he deserved worse. Him and his little frat boy minions.

"Hey, Grease! I'm talkin' to you!"

The engine starts to get louder as he pulls closer and closer to the sidewalk. Are you serious? You're really going to do this now?

"Get lost Soc, I ain't got time for you." I say. My words sounding blunt and indifferent to my ears.

"Oh, did you hear that guys? The little bitch's got a mouth on her." the car has pulled up so that it's driving right next to me, at my pace, and my eye starts to twitch.

I'm not a patient person. I know I'm not, I try to be, but I'm just not. I can feel it, I just know I'm going to say something stupid and make it worse. Biting the inside of my cheek, I keep my mouth shut and walk faster. I don't know why I bother though. They're in a car, they can go faster than I can ever hope to.

"What's wrong? Little bitch ain't got nothing to say?" his buddies laugh like the little flying monkeys they are in the back seat.

Seriously, what's with all this 'little bitch' stuff?! I'm not your pet, you don't give me nicknames. And come one. 'Little bitch'? I thought even dumb asses had decent imaginations. Guess not.

"I ain't your 'little bitch' you preppy bastard." And there's my foot in my mouth.

I keep walking when I hear the car stop and the doors swing open. The sound of steps on pavement speeds up behind me, like they're going to tackle me, and then I hear the mechanic sound of a butterfly knife. Panic rises in me and my eyes widen as I turn around. Just when I've turned, someone throws an old flat tire at them from one of the junkie yards and they fall like bowling pins onto the sidewalk.

"Hurry!"

Someone grabs me by my backpack and pulls me along into an alley that separates a gas station and a laundry mat. In the dimness of the alley way I can see a girl. Her long blonde hair in curls like a mane that's all brushed back into a ponytail that touches my face when ever the wind blows. Judging by her leather jacket and ripped jeans, she's a Greaser. She keeps one hand on my shoulder, pinning me back to the wall, and the other gripping something in her pocket as she watches the outside intensely. Only when she sees the three Soc's race down the street does she relax and let go of me. Her once serious face breaks into an easy smile as she pats me on my shoulder.

"You do got quite the mouth on you. What's your name?"

"Charlotte." I say, blinking at her.

"You got a last name?" She asks, lighting up a cigarette.

God, does everyone smoke around here?

"Hale."

"Nice to meet you Charlotte Hale. I'm Shirley Bates, that's Shirley to you." she says, taking a long drag before blowing smoke into the breeze.

The stench reaches my nose and I'm quick to cover it with my sleeve. She offers me a stick and I shake my head. As strange as it might seem, I'm happy I'm a Greaser. Shirley looks like the type of person you want to have in your corner.

"Well come one then. We've got school to suffer through and teachers to harass." Stepping out of the alley, she hides her lighter in her shoe and shoves her hands in her pockets like nothing even happened here.

Oh right. School...