Life Choices 2: Forming Bonds | By : JessieMundaiFan Category: M through R > The Outsiders Views: 2857 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: The Outsiders is owned by S.E. Hinton I own nothing. I make no profit on this fanfic |
Disclaimer: The Outsiders is owned by S.E. Hinton I own nothing.
… (General POV) Ponyboy sighed lying down on his bed comfortably. He couldn't tell you how nice it was to be back in his own bed. With his cast off, Ponyboy had finally been given the okay to go home. Ponyboy was more than overjoyed because he was getting tired to sitting in bed and doing nothing, he had been even starting to miss school. He had been warned to take it easy and not to engage in any acts that might put pressure onto his neck at any cost (he wasn't going to do anything like that anyway). Ponyboy rolled around on his bed enjoying the feel of it. Sure, the beds at the hospital were nice but they didn't compare to his own bed. Suddenly there was a knock at his door and his elder brother peeked his head through the door eyeing him. "You ready to go?" Darry asked him. Darry had called in to work claiming that he was going to be late in order to drive his brother to his first day back to school. Neither of Ponyboy's brothers wanted him to be walking alone anywhere, they still are a little sensitive about danger. Actually, neither of them wanted Ponyboy to go to school right now anyway, however after some convincing from Ponyboy, he was able to get them come to his side. "Yeah," Ponyboy nodded getting up from his bed grabbing his book bag and heading out the door behind his brother. "Remember Ponyboy if you feel any pain, any at all, you go straight to the nurse," Darry ordered as he started the car and pulled out of their drive way, "I already called earlier and told her about your condition." Condition? Ponyboy mentally rolled his eyes at his brother. He's making him sound like he's dying. "Sodapop will pick up you up and take you home when you call," Darry advised as he drove them through the busy streets of Tulsa. "If I call," Ponyboy corrected scratching at his neck, "which I probably won't seeing as I'm feeling pretty fine right now." Darry briefly looked over at his brother. "Ponyboy don't scratch your stitches, you know that's not good for them." Sometimes Ponyboy forgets that he has these stitches as there so well place in him. The stitches replaced his cast giving him more freedom than without it, however he has less movability in the neck area. "But's itchy," Ponyboy complained scratching it even more. Darry rolled his eyes but didn't comment any further. They made it exactly on time for school to start. As Ponyboy went to get out of the car his hand was grabbed in a firm grip. He turned to see his older brother's stern gaze. "I was serious about the pain thing Ponyboy, if I find out that you were hurting at any point in school I'm grounding you to the house," Darry swore looking as serious as he could possibly be. There was no doubt he would make good on his promise. Ponyboy blinked up at his brother before giving him a comforting smile. He patted him on the shoulder gently removing his hand from him. "Don't worry Darry, despite what you may think I don't enjoy pain," Ponyboy reassured him as he got out of the car, "I promise what if I feel any pain or my stitches start losing up I'll go to the nurse." "Make sure you do," Darry told him only this time looking slightly more relaxed as he closed Ponyboy's car door, "and don't you worry about what people are going to be saying alright?" Stiffly Ponyboy watched as his brother drove out of the parking thinking about what he just brought up. The young greaser didn't think about what other people might think of him the way he is now. He's pretty sure everyone knows what happened seeing as stories spread pretty fast around town and especially at school. Ponyboy was never one to care what others thought of him but this was making him a little wary of the day ahead of him. "Maybe I should have stayed home after all," Ponyboy mumbled to himself as he slowly walked up to the school. "Oh my god…" "Is that the boy?" "The one who-" Not even before he could take a step into the school Ponyboy could hear people talking around him. Picking up his feet, the young greaser tore into the school ignoring everyone he came across on his way to locker. Hesitantly he looked around to see people constantly avoiding his gaze as his eyes came their way. This was already starting to make him uncomfortable, Ponyboy did not like having this much attention on him. "Boo!" Ponyboy jumped in shock giving Curly the laugh he was looking for. Once his heart rate went down Ponyboy hit his lover with his notebook angrily. "You jerk," Ponyboy scowled continuously hitting him, "you just live to annoy people don't you?" "Maybe," Curly said with a grin as he was still snickering a little bit, "So what's up with you babe?" Ponyboy briefly looked behind his back to find that the people that were previously staring at him were averting their gazes now that he was around Curly. Apparently they didn't want to mess with a hood from the Shepard gang. "Nothing," Ponyboy replied shortly closing his locker. He was somewhat surprised to see Curly walking beside him. "What are you doing?" Ponyboy asked him in amusement. Curly snorted folding his arms in front of his chest. "I'm walking Ponyboy, did you forget what that was called?" If Ponyboy heard what he said then he ignored him as he was too busy laughing at something to himself. "How sweet you're walking me to class," Ponyboy said sweetly batting his eyelashes, "thank you Curly Wurly." "Shut up." Ponyboy yelped as he was smacked on the behind as Curly walked ahead of him presumably to his class. "That was mean Curly," Ponyboy called out to with a pout as he walked to his first class of the day. The students as a whole went silent when Ponyboy entered the room. As he slowly walked to one of the seats in the back, Ponyboy was stared at is if he was the classes new science project. Once Ponyboy found a seat he tried to do everything he could to distract himself from the people around him (as some were still staring at him). "Psst, greaser." Ponyboy hesitantly looked over to his left to see a Soc leaning over to his desk pointedly staring at his stitches. "Yes?" Ponyboy asked quietly. "Is it true?" He asked. Ponyboy just blinked at him in question. Something tells him he's not going to like what's coming next, if the Socs friends snickering beside him were anything to go by. "Is it true you really got your neck cut?" The Socs asked in disgust probably thinking about the actual act. Ponyboy nodded silently. "Well, I guess it was only a matter of time before you got roughed up somehow," The Soc claimed causing his friends to dissolve into sniggers. "Piss off," Ponyboy scowled at the boy beside him. He was not about to take any verbal lashing lying down. "Your face looked more roughed up naturally while mine is because I was jumped." The Socs instantly stopped laughing as they glared over at Ponyboy who was ignoring the three of them. Just then Mrs. Turntree stumbling into the door clumsily. Very slowly she got her bearings and walked to her desk. "Sorry for being late class," Mrs. Turntree said sighing tiredly throwing her bags onto her chair, "but I had a horrible night last night and I don't want to talk about." The whole class just stared at her blinking every few seconds. "Okay fine, since y'all won't stop asking I'll tell you," Mrs. Turntree snapped walked over to the front of her desk and sitting on it. "Well it started out like every other night for me. I was drinking at a bar and starting fights with the first couple people I saw. Everything was so right and magically until this midget showed up. I don't mean one of those sexy ones that you can shank for their pot gold, no it was one of those hiding under the bridge and scare you type of midgets." The class looked at her with various degrees of shock, fear, and unease. This woman was truly something else. "I know he scared the hell out of me to," Mrs. Turntree nodded, "so anyway, back to the story. The midget-" Ponyboy had to hold back a snarl as he was hit in the side of the head with a paper. He turned to see the same Socs that were messing with him before. "To bad you got so uglied up kid," The Soc beside him shook his head mockingly, "now you'll never fit in with normal people again." Ponyboy brow furrowed worriedly. He didn't look ugly did he? And if he did so what, it's not like it matters. "You might as well get comfortable in Tulsa because there's no way anybody will hire a rough looking hood like you," Another Soc commented snidely. "Shut up," Ponyboy hissed at them with a glare, "just because someone doesn't look like an idiot Soc doesn't mean they can't get anywhere." The Socs looked at him in disbelief. "You think anyone will hire someone with an ugly scar like that on your neck," The Soc beside him said in disbelief, "and just forget about college. There is no way they would you anywhere near their dorms." Ponyboy was trying to shake off their words, he had been doing it for years so he should be used to it, but sadly the seed of doubt had already been planted. Would this scar hurt him that much in the long run? Would it hurt his future, are people truly that fickle and vain that they would turn away from him just because of a scar. "And you can forget about your boyfriend," The second Soc sneered, "he's going to leave your scarred up ass in no time." "Shut up!" Ponyboy yelled shocking everyone in the room as they all turned to him, "Shut the fuck up!" "Hey!" Mrs. Turntree yelled craning her head to see what was happening, "stop yelling and screaming in this damn room." All four of the boys held their heads down keeping silent. "And you Socks better leave Coltboy alone," Mrs. Turntree warned them, "that boy has been through enough without you leeches messing with him. Don't make me come back there. I will twist your heads off with my thighs." "Yes Mrs. Turntree," The boys echoed obediently. "Good," Mrs. Turntree nodded in satisfaction, "now back to my story. So after I fought off that midget-" For this class, the bell could not ring early enough. The students ran out of the class eager to get away from Mrs. Turntree and her disturbing story. "That was good class everybody," Mrs. Turntree claimed, "your homework to write up how many mailboxes you think I hit on the way here. I'll give you a hint, eleven." "How is this woman a teacher?" One kid mumbled shaking his head. While everyone in the class was walking pretty fast, none of them were going as fast as Ponyboy. He wanted to get out of this class and get away from the taunts those Socs made at him, unfortunately they still lingered in his head. He found himself unable to shake off their inappropriate and rude words. What if people started turning away from him because of his scar. What if Curly turned away from him? The mere thought sounded completely unbelievable but it frightened Ponyboy to his core. He just couldn't believe it. The voices around him weren't making things any better. "That scars is so hideous." "You can't stop looking at it." "How sad, he used to be so good looking." Try as he might, Ponyboy could feel the tears coming up from his eyes. Today was really not going his way (it didn't make matters better that this was only the first hour of classes). Maybe he should go to the nurse and have his brother pick him up. As a hand grabbed his shoulder, Ponyboy violently turned around to find Curly and his group of friends behind him. "Whoa, what's up their hot stuff?" Terry held up his hands in defeat, "you look like you were getting ready to punch me." Ponyboy sighed, calmed himself down as he opened his locker and got out the necessary books he needed. "Sorry, I'm a little on edge," Ponyboy apologized hiding his face that was full of worry in his locker in order to avoid Curly's gaze. "Why do you say that?" Curly asked leaning on the locker beside him. "Well, uh, I," Ponyboy sputtered. The last thing he wanted to do was tell Curly that people were messing with him. He imagined that the result would be just about the same if he told his brothers. "It's probably because all the people around here," David said from beside Curly deciding to answer for Ponyboy. "What?" Rob said raising an eyebrow. David shrugged. "I heard some Socs talking about 'that greasers ugly scar' so it must be about Ponyboy." "What?" Curly demanded clenching, "people have been talking shit about by babe." "Curly," Ponyboy groaned not wanting a fight to breaking out. He shot David a glare which he dutifully ignored. "It's not that big of a deal," Ponyboy tried to reassure his lover holding his shoulder comfortingly, "I can handle it." "That's not the point," Curly shook his head at him glaring at all the passerby's that were looking there way. "Stupid ass stuck up Socs," Curly grumbled folding standing in front of Ponyboy like a bodyguard, "Talking shit about him." "I know," Rob nodded in agreement eyeing Ponyboy's scar at the center of his neck, "that doesn't look bad." "I-It doesn't," Ponyboy stuttered in shock. That was the last thing he thought anyone would say about his scar. "Sure," Terry agreed with a grin we walked closer to the young greaser to inspect it, "looks pretty bad ass to me." "Scars are proof of strength," David pipped in stoically with a shrug, "at least that's what my old man always said." "Hey, hey," Terry was calling over an older hood to their side. He pointed to Ponyboy scar. "What do you think?" The older hood nodded looking impressed. "Looks pretty good, what did you get that in a rumbled kid." "Naw," Terry replied for Ponyboy, "but he get his neck sliced. He almost died." The older hood whistled looking more impressed than before. Meanwhile, Ponyboy was blushing at the attention he was getting. He's never been admired by his fellow greasers before (well, at least not in this way). "Yeah, yeah," Curly wrapped an arm around Ponyboy making the young greaser guess that Curly was getting a little jealous. The older hood left leaving the boys by themselves again. "See?" Rob turned to the young greaser and grinned at him, "the people that matter think that your scars is bad ass while the losers are acting stuck up." "That's right," Curly said rocking Ponyboy in his arm, "and don't you pay attention to those assholes either." "Yes Curly," Ponyboy chuckled feeling slightly better. Curly's friends went on ahead to their next classes while Curly and Ponyboy stayed by the lockers and talked some more. "So Curly," Ponyboy said trying to word his sentence properly. "You never thought that my scar made me look ugly or anything." Curly shot Ponyboy a surprised look as if he couldn't believe that he would even think that lowly of him. "That was a stupid question wasn't it?" Ponyboy asked awkwardly clenching his books in his hands. "Yeah it was," Curly nodded before bringing his lips onto Ponyboy's making him whimper in shock. Breaking the both of them apart, Curly stared deep into Ponyboy's eyes causing the young greaser to squirm under his hot gaze. "I'm going to show you how not ugly you are later," Curly promised with his signature smirk. "H-How?" Ponyboy stuttered. Again Curly just smirked at him bringing an arm around his waist and walking him to class. A few moments of confusion came over Ponyboy before he finally surrendered and snuggled into Curly's side. It turns out that he didn't have to worry about the people at school at all. Sure some people still looked at him weird, comes with the territory of have foreign marks on your body I guess, but he still had his crowd of people that supported him. And that's all that matteredWhile AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
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