The girl with the yellow dress, man. I was thinking about her and
her little gasp
When I pulled out my switchblade in class today. That little gasp excited me. I wanted to grab her right then and there and hear her gasp again, then kiss her.
Boy, couldn't do that, of course. I turned red and put my switchblade away, didn't look at her for the rest of the day.
I went home, still thinking about the girl from school. Soda was home but Darry wasn't, he was at his second job, most likely. Soda was on the couch making out with Sandy. I caught glimpses of her little red tongue and Soda moved his hand up her thigh.
They jumped apart when they heard the screen door bang against the jam.
"Uh, hi, Pony," Soda said, flustered. Sandy looked breathless and dazed.
"Hi, Soda, Sandy," I said and headed for my room, jealous of them and not wanting to intrude.
I thought about that girl some more and tried to draw her, but it wouldn't come out right so I just sketched the tree outside the window.
"Pony?" Soda stuck his head into the room.
"Yeah?"
"Me and Sandy are gonna take off, alright?"
"Yeah,"
They were probably meeting Steve and Evie somewhere. With the girls along Soda wouldn't invite me. Can't blame him. Who wants a tag along kid on your date?
But I wanted to be on a date with Sandy. No wonder Soda liked her, she was so soft and pretty, her skin white and smooth, and I remembered the dazed look in her eyes when Soda stopped kissing her...
Even Evie, Steve's girl. Sure, she wore a lot of make up and swore and I didn't like that but she had that slinky little body like a cat, just rubbing up against your leg...
There was something wrong with me. All I could think about was sex. And it wasn't limited to girls. Mostly girls, their flirty eyes, the sound of their clothes rustling when they moved, ughh! It drove me crazy all day, smelling their perfume and seeing the curve of their necks, the way their hair falls around their shoulders or else is all pinned up in a pony tail or bun.
"Pony?" Someone called my name from the living room. I hadn't even heard anyone come in I was so busy thinking about girls. I have a problem.
"Pony?" It was Johnny, of course I knew his voice. I wasn't that anxious to see him.
"Hey, Pony?" He came in and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed.
"Hey," I said, glancing at him quick and then away. I was at the desk where I was trying to draw those pictures.
"What's up, man?" He said, lighting a cigarrette, cupping the match out of habit.
"Nothing," I mumbled, still not looking at him. All those girls and their million ways of driving me crazy so what was it about Johnny?
I peeked at him. He took a deep drag on his cigarrette and I noticed how full his lips were, and red. And how tan he was, the scar high on his cheek making him look tuff, and how dark his eyes were. So dark they looked black, and always full of something. Full of fear, full of sorrow, full of compassion, and anger, too. Not so much now, I guess. Not since the socs beat him that time. It worried me in a vague way. Johnny used to get mad, mostly at his parents but sometimes at us, mostly me. But since that time he really hasn't got angry at all, like they beat it out of him.
He put the cigarrette out in our little tin ashtray and layed down on the bed with his hands up over his head. I noticed how his nails were all short cause he bit them, he was always knawing on those nails. The skin around his nails was raw and ragged, too.
His tee shirt had pulled up a little when he lifted his arms and I could see his stomach. His stomach was tan, too. Not as tan as his face and arms but still tan, and smooth, and he was so skinny.
He's a boy! Ughhh! What the hell is wrong with me?
Johnny was oblivious, as he tended to be. At least with Johnny you didn't have to worry about a lot of mindless chatter. Not like Two bit, man. That kid never shut up.
Speak of the devil. No sooner did I think that then who comes charging in? He's just one person but he sounds like three or four. The screen door banged, he whistled, he hooted, he called our names.
"Darry? Soda? Ponyboy? Y'all here?"
Two bit banged into furniture, his boots clacked and clunked against our worn wooden floor.
"Ponyboy?" He stuck his head in the door. "Hey, Johnny,"
"Hi," I said. Johnny didn't say anything.
"Where's everybody?" he said, flopping down on the bed on top of Johnny's legs.
"C'mon, man," Johnny said, pushing Two bit off him and sitting up.
"Darry's at work, Soda's out on a date, Steve and Evie are probably with 'em, haven't seen Dally, and Johnny's right there," I cocked a thumb at Johnny. Two bit smirked.
"Y'all wanna come drinking with me?" Two bit flipped out his prize switchblade and admired it.
I yawned. Johnny lit another cigarrette.
"Nope," I said. If pressed I'd claim I had a school project to work on. I hoped Johnny would go , though.
Johnny shook his head no and blew his smoke at the ceiling. Two bit didn't mind that we didn't want to go. He never seemed to mind nothing.
"Allright then. Maybe I can find Dal. See y'all later," He loped out of the room, twirling his switchblade around, dropping it with a clatter.
I knew Johnny wouldn't go drinking. He doesn't drink cause his father's a no good drunk, guess he thinks he'll end up one, too. So he doesn't drink. I just don't really like it, gives me a headache.
With Two bit gone the house quieted down and by some miracle the T.V. wasn't blaring away. Soda must have remembered to shut it off. No, more likely Sandy remembered.
It was quiet, and I could hear Johnny breathing. He had layed back down again and I could see his chest gently rising and falling.
I clenched my hands into fists and tried to think of the girl in the yellow dress. But she was hazy and Johnny was right in front of me.
"Mind if I sleep here tonight?" Johnny said. His voice was deep and kind of gravelly, thick.
No! I wanted to scream. Don't sleep here. Sleep at your own damn house, or Two bit's, or Steve's.
"Yeah, sure, man," I said as casually as I could. Johnny nodded and closed his eyes. I thought he might go to sleep right then. His breathing evened out and became deeper. I drank him in. The black lashes laying against his cheeks, the long black hair gleaming with the two tons of grease he puts in it. The straight line of his nose, the way his top teeth touch his lower lip. Ughhh! Stop it, stop it, what in the hell is wrong with me? He's a BOY, he's my FRIEND, I've known him forever, Christ!
His upper arm had bruises on it, dark purple and blue. I knew what it was. It was from his old man grabbing his arm and squeezing or twisting.
I heard the screen door slam and a purposeful stride. I knew from the walk it was Dallas. Darry kinda walks like that, too, but it was too early yet for him to be home.
"Ponyboy? Johnnycake?" Dallas said, standing in the doorway. I usually don't care for Dallas too much but I was glad to see him. He'd be the one who could get Johnny outta here for awhile.
Johnny did what Dallas said or asked without question.
Now he opened his eyes and smiled for the first time since he came in.
"Hey, Dally,"
"What're you two up to?" Dal said, lighting a cigarrette. I shrugged and Johnny said, "Nothin'".
"Y'all wanna come with me to the, ah, the Dingo?" Dally looked bored, like he always looked.
"Sure, Dal," Johnny said without hesitation. I waited a beat.
"Aw, sorry, Dal, I can't go,"
"Why not?" Dallas said, not looking particularly interested.
"I've got this school thing I gotta do,"
"Alright. See ya," he said and left, Johnny in tow.
"Bye, man," Johnny said softly.
"Bye,"
I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the screen door slam. I didn't hear a car. Sometimes Dally had a car, sometimes not. The Dingo wasn't far, they could walk.
With Johnny gone the girl in the yellow dress was clearer in my mind, and I heard that little gasp again, and I felt the way it twisted my stomach a little and made me want to kiss her.
I felt better with Johnny gone. Figured I'd watch some T.V. and just forget everything for awhile.
Around 10 Soda came back.
"Hey, Pony," he said on his way to the kitchen for chocalate cake.
"Hey, Soda, how was the date?"
He got that dreamy look and sighed.
"Great," he said, "just great,"
He really loved Sandy.
"Where's Steve?" Usually Steve comes back with him.
"Oh, around. We ran into Dally, Johnny, and Two bit. He went with them,"
"Why didn't you?"
"Didn't feel like it," He shrugged and layed down on the couch.
When Darry got home Soda had been sound asleep for well over an hour.
"Ponyboy, you oughta get to bed. School tomorrow," Darry said, throwing a blanket over Soda.
I got up and headed for bed. It was midnight. Maybe Johnny found another place to sleep.
I peeled off my clothes and climbed into bed with just my boxers on. It always took me awhile to get to sleep. It was like my mind wouldn't shut down. I thought of Johnny again, the way his hair curled behind his ears and touched his collar, how full his lips were and how much I wanted to taste them.
No! I punched my leg and cursed myself for the impure thoughts. I was drifting off when I heard Darry shutting the lights and T.V. and going to bed.
Soda was sleeping on the couch again, I thought sleepily, and fell asleep.
I woke up because I heard that damn screen door slam and heavy footsteps. I sat up and rubbed my eyes.
Dallas flipped my light on and I squinted in the unexpected, harsh glare. He was holding Johnny up. Johnny's eyes were half open and they both reeked of liquer.
"Dal? What?" I said, blinking.
"Johnny's drunk," Dallas said, helping Johnny as he stumbled toward the bed.
My eyes widened. This was surprising.
"I thought he didn't drink?"
"Well, he did tonight," Dallas said, and laughed harshly. Johnny squeezed his eyes shut.
"The room's spinning, man," Johnny said and groaned.
"Help him, don't let him puke in your bed," Dallas said, laughing, and left.
Oh Christ.
"Johnny, are you gonna puke?" He just groaned again and I sighed.
"C'mon, sit up," I said, but he didn't. I helped him to sit up and took his jean jacket off. It was damp and smelled like beer. He tried to lay back down.
"Not yet," I said, holding him up by his shoulder, but carefully. You had to be careful with Johnny. You never knew what was broken or bruised.
I got his tee shirt off and gasped at the array of bruises. All colors, too, from dark purple to that light sickly green yellow. No wonder he wanted to sleep here.
"O.K., Johnny," I said, laying him down gently. I took his sneakers off and covered him with the blanket.
I dug around in the closet for the sleeping bag and found it under a ton of junk. As I was pulling it out I heard my name.
"Ponyboy?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I move in here?"
I got the sleeping bag free without too much junk falling on me and went over to him. Suddenly I was too tired for this.
"What?" I said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Can I move in here?" he repeated, and I was alarmed to see he was crying. It was drinking, I knew. Soda cried sometimes when he drank and my mother used to, too.
"Would Darry mind?" Johnny said, wiping the tears with his fingers.
"I, um, well..." I didn't know what to say.
"I just hate my fucking parents, man, I hate 'em," Here was the anger.
"I hate living in that house and getting hit all the time or else ignored, I fucking hate it," He reached up and punched the wall pretty hard. I hoped he didn't break his hand.
"Johnny, don't do that," I reached for his hand to see if he's hurt it but before I knew what I was doing I kissed it.
I looked at him I alarm, afraid he'd scream at me or punch me in his current state. He wasn't looking at me and he hardly seemed to have noticed.
"My life fucking sucks, man. I might as well just kill myself," he said, sobbing, and covered his face with his hands.
"No, John, you can't do that," I said, and gently pulled his hands away from his face.
His eyes were large and shiny with the tears, there were tears in his lashes, too, making them stick together.
He just gazed at me steadily and I could smell beer and whiskey on his breath.
I wanted him. I didn't care that it was wrong, he was a boy, he was my friend. I wanted him. Those luscious lips, that tan skin and black hair, that skinny body that was always getting beaten, I wanted to kiss all the hurt away.
"Johnny," I said, helpless and powerless to stop myself from what I wanted to do. He was drunk, maybe he wouldn't remember.
I held his wrists down above his head and leaned over him and kissed him. He stiffened under me and kind of bucked but I held onto his wrists and continued kissing him, trying to get him to open his mouth.
He tried to free his wrists but I held tight. It wasn't really a contest. I was stronger than he was and had all my weight into holding him down. And he was drunk.
I pressed his wrists into the bed and felt him bucking beneath me. I didn't care. I kept kissing him.
"Pony," he said, his eyes blazing at me, and he still struggled to free his wrists. I held him down easily.
"C'mon, Johnny," I said softly, pressing his wrists firmly into the bed, "no one will know," and I leaned in toward him again, smelling the liquer he drank and fear under that and excitement.
"O.K.?" I whispered, and he stopped glaring at me and let his wrists lay still in my grasp. I brushed his lips with mine and felt him relax under me and he opened his mouth.
When I pulled out my switchblade in class today. That little gasp excited me. I wanted to grab her right then and there and hear her gasp again, then kiss her.
Boy, couldn't do that, of course. I turned red and put my switchblade away, didn't look at her for the rest of the day.
I went home, still thinking about the girl from school. Soda was home but Darry wasn't, he was at his second job, most likely. Soda was on the couch making out with Sandy. I caught glimpses of her little red tongue and Soda moved his hand up her thigh.
They jumped apart when they heard the screen door bang against the jam.
"Uh, hi, Pony," Soda said, flustered. Sandy looked breathless and dazed.
"Hi, Soda, Sandy," I said and headed for my room, jealous of them and not wanting to intrude.
I thought about that girl some more and tried to draw her, but it wouldn't come out right so I just sketched the tree outside the window.
"Pony?" Soda stuck his head into the room.
"Yeah?"
"Me and Sandy are gonna take off, alright?"
"Yeah,"
They were probably meeting Steve and Evie somewhere. With the girls along Soda wouldn't invite me. Can't blame him. Who wants a tag along kid on your date?
But I wanted to be on a date with Sandy. No wonder Soda liked her, she was so soft and pretty, her skin white and smooth, and I remembered the dazed look in her eyes when Soda stopped kissing her...
Even Evie, Steve's girl. Sure, she wore a lot of make up and swore and I didn't like that but she had that slinky little body like a cat, just rubbing up against your leg...
There was something wrong with me. All I could think about was sex. And it wasn't limited to girls. Mostly girls, their flirty eyes, the sound of their clothes rustling when they moved, ughh! It drove me crazy all day, smelling their perfume and seeing the curve of their necks, the way their hair falls around their shoulders or else is all pinned up in a pony tail or bun.
"Pony?" Someone called my name from the living room. I hadn't even heard anyone come in I was so busy thinking about girls. I have a problem.
"Pony?" It was Johnny, of course I knew his voice. I wasn't that anxious to see him.
"Hey, Pony?" He came in and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed.
"Hey," I said, glancing at him quick and then away. I was at the desk where I was trying to draw those pictures.
"What's up, man?" He said, lighting a cigarrette, cupping the match out of habit.
"Nothing," I mumbled, still not looking at him. All those girls and their million ways of driving me crazy so what was it about Johnny?
I peeked at him. He took a deep drag on his cigarrette and I noticed how full his lips were, and red. And how tan he was, the scar high on his cheek making him look tuff, and how dark his eyes were. So dark they looked black, and always full of something. Full of fear, full of sorrow, full of compassion, and anger, too. Not so much now, I guess. Not since the socs beat him that time. It worried me in a vague way. Johnny used to get mad, mostly at his parents but sometimes at us, mostly me. But since that time he really hasn't got angry at all, like they beat it out of him.
He put the cigarrette out in our little tin ashtray and layed down on the bed with his hands up over his head. I noticed how his nails were all short cause he bit them, he was always knawing on those nails. The skin around his nails was raw and ragged, too.
His tee shirt had pulled up a little when he lifted his arms and I could see his stomach. His stomach was tan, too. Not as tan as his face and arms but still tan, and smooth, and he was so skinny.
He's a boy! Ughhh! What the hell is wrong with me?
Johnny was oblivious, as he tended to be. At least with Johnny you didn't have to worry about a lot of mindless chatter. Not like Two bit, man. That kid never shut up.
Speak of the devil. No sooner did I think that then who comes charging in? He's just one person but he sounds like three or four. The screen door banged, he whistled, he hooted, he called our names.
"Darry? Soda? Ponyboy? Y'all here?"
Two bit banged into furniture, his boots clacked and clunked against our worn wooden floor.
"Ponyboy?" He stuck his head in the door. "Hey, Johnny,"
"Hi," I said. Johnny didn't say anything.
"Where's everybody?" he said, flopping down on the bed on top of Johnny's legs.
"C'mon, man," Johnny said, pushing Two bit off him and sitting up.
"Darry's at work, Soda's out on a date, Steve and Evie are probably with 'em, haven't seen Dally, and Johnny's right there," I cocked a thumb at Johnny. Two bit smirked.
"Y'all wanna come drinking with me?" Two bit flipped out his prize switchblade and admired it.
I yawned. Johnny lit another cigarrette.
"Nope," I said. If pressed I'd claim I had a school project to work on. I hoped Johnny would go , though.
Johnny shook his head no and blew his smoke at the ceiling. Two bit didn't mind that we didn't want to go. He never seemed to mind nothing.
"Allright then. Maybe I can find Dal. See y'all later," He loped out of the room, twirling his switchblade around, dropping it with a clatter.
I knew Johnny wouldn't go drinking. He doesn't drink cause his father's a no good drunk, guess he thinks he'll end up one, too. So he doesn't drink. I just don't really like it, gives me a headache.
With Two bit gone the house quieted down and by some miracle the T.V. wasn't blaring away. Soda must have remembered to shut it off. No, more likely Sandy remembered.
It was quiet, and I could hear Johnny breathing. He had layed back down again and I could see his chest gently rising and falling.
I clenched my hands into fists and tried to think of the girl in the yellow dress. But she was hazy and Johnny was right in front of me.
"Mind if I sleep here tonight?" Johnny said. His voice was deep and kind of gravelly, thick.
No! I wanted to scream. Don't sleep here. Sleep at your own damn house, or Two bit's, or Steve's.
"Yeah, sure, man," I said as casually as I could. Johnny nodded and closed his eyes. I thought he might go to sleep right then. His breathing evened out and became deeper. I drank him in. The black lashes laying against his cheeks, the long black hair gleaming with the two tons of grease he puts in it. The straight line of his nose, the way his top teeth touch his lower lip. Ughhh! Stop it, stop it, what in the hell is wrong with me? He's a BOY, he's my FRIEND, I've known him forever, Christ!
His upper arm had bruises on it, dark purple and blue. I knew what it was. It was from his old man grabbing his arm and squeezing or twisting.
I heard the screen door slam and a purposeful stride. I knew from the walk it was Dallas. Darry kinda walks like that, too, but it was too early yet for him to be home.
"Ponyboy? Johnnycake?" Dallas said, standing in the doorway. I usually don't care for Dallas too much but I was glad to see him. He'd be the one who could get Johnny outta here for awhile.
Johnny did what Dallas said or asked without question.
Now he opened his eyes and smiled for the first time since he came in.
"Hey, Dally,"
"What're you two up to?" Dal said, lighting a cigarrette. I shrugged and Johnny said, "Nothin'".
"Y'all wanna come with me to the, ah, the Dingo?" Dally looked bored, like he always looked.
"Sure, Dal," Johnny said without hesitation. I waited a beat.
"Aw, sorry, Dal, I can't go,"
"Why not?" Dallas said, not looking particularly interested.
"I've got this school thing I gotta do,"
"Alright. See ya," he said and left, Johnny in tow.
"Bye, man," Johnny said softly.
"Bye,"
I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the screen door slam. I didn't hear a car. Sometimes Dally had a car, sometimes not. The Dingo wasn't far, they could walk.
With Johnny gone the girl in the yellow dress was clearer in my mind, and I heard that little gasp again, and I felt the way it twisted my stomach a little and made me want to kiss her.
I felt better with Johnny gone. Figured I'd watch some T.V. and just forget everything for awhile.
Around 10 Soda came back.
"Hey, Pony," he said on his way to the kitchen for chocalate cake.
"Hey, Soda, how was the date?"
He got that dreamy look and sighed.
"Great," he said, "just great,"
He really loved Sandy.
"Where's Steve?" Usually Steve comes back with him.
"Oh, around. We ran into Dally, Johnny, and Two bit. He went with them,"
"Why didn't you?"
"Didn't feel like it," He shrugged and layed down on the couch.
When Darry got home Soda had been sound asleep for well over an hour.
"Ponyboy, you oughta get to bed. School tomorrow," Darry said, throwing a blanket over Soda.
I got up and headed for bed. It was midnight. Maybe Johnny found another place to sleep.
I peeled off my clothes and climbed into bed with just my boxers on. It always took me awhile to get to sleep. It was like my mind wouldn't shut down. I thought of Johnny again, the way his hair curled behind his ears and touched his collar, how full his lips were and how much I wanted to taste them.
No! I punched my leg and cursed myself for the impure thoughts. I was drifting off when I heard Darry shutting the lights and T.V. and going to bed.
Soda was sleeping on the couch again, I thought sleepily, and fell asleep.
I woke up because I heard that damn screen door slam and heavy footsteps. I sat up and rubbed my eyes.
Dallas flipped my light on and I squinted in the unexpected, harsh glare. He was holding Johnny up. Johnny's eyes were half open and they both reeked of liquer.
"Dal? What?" I said, blinking.
"Johnny's drunk," Dallas said, helping Johnny as he stumbled toward the bed.
My eyes widened. This was surprising.
"I thought he didn't drink?"
"Well, he did tonight," Dallas said, and laughed harshly. Johnny squeezed his eyes shut.
"The room's spinning, man," Johnny said and groaned.
"Help him, don't let him puke in your bed," Dallas said, laughing, and left.
Oh Christ.
"Johnny, are you gonna puke?" He just groaned again and I sighed.
"C'mon, sit up," I said, but he didn't. I helped him to sit up and took his jean jacket off. It was damp and smelled like beer. He tried to lay back down.
"Not yet," I said, holding him up by his shoulder, but carefully. You had to be careful with Johnny. You never knew what was broken or bruised.
I got his tee shirt off and gasped at the array of bruises. All colors, too, from dark purple to that light sickly green yellow. No wonder he wanted to sleep here.
"O.K., Johnny," I said, laying him down gently. I took his sneakers off and covered him with the blanket.
I dug around in the closet for the sleeping bag and found it under a ton of junk. As I was pulling it out I heard my name.
"Ponyboy?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I move in here?"
I got the sleeping bag free without too much junk falling on me and went over to him. Suddenly I was too tired for this.
"What?" I said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Can I move in here?" he repeated, and I was alarmed to see he was crying. It was drinking, I knew. Soda cried sometimes when he drank and my mother used to, too.
"Would Darry mind?" Johnny said, wiping the tears with his fingers.
"I, um, well..." I didn't know what to say.
"I just hate my fucking parents, man, I hate 'em," Here was the anger.
"I hate living in that house and getting hit all the time or else ignored, I fucking hate it," He reached up and punched the wall pretty hard. I hoped he didn't break his hand.
"Johnny, don't do that," I reached for his hand to see if he's hurt it but before I knew what I was doing I kissed it.
I looked at him I alarm, afraid he'd scream at me or punch me in his current state. He wasn't looking at me and he hardly seemed to have noticed.
"My life fucking sucks, man. I might as well just kill myself," he said, sobbing, and covered his face with his hands.
"No, John, you can't do that," I said, and gently pulled his hands away from his face.
His eyes were large and shiny with the tears, there were tears in his lashes, too, making them stick together.
He just gazed at me steadily and I could smell beer and whiskey on his breath.
I wanted him. I didn't care that it was wrong, he was a boy, he was my friend. I wanted him. Those luscious lips, that tan skin and black hair, that skinny body that was always getting beaten, I wanted to kiss all the hurt away.
"Johnny," I said, helpless and powerless to stop myself from what I wanted to do. He was drunk, maybe he wouldn't remember.
I held his wrists down above his head and leaned over him and kissed him. He stiffened under me and kind of bucked but I held onto his wrists and continued kissing him, trying to get him to open his mouth.
He tried to free his wrists but I held tight. It wasn't really a contest. I was stronger than he was and had all my weight into holding him down. And he was drunk.
I pressed his wrists into the bed and felt him bucking beneath me. I didn't care. I kept kissing him.
"Pony," he said, his eyes blazing at me, and he still struggled to free his wrists. I held him down easily.
"C'mon, Johnny," I said softly, pressing his wrists firmly into the bed, "no one will know," and I leaned in toward him again, smelling the liquer he drank and fear under that and excitement.
"O.K.?" I whispered, and he stopped glaring at me and let his wrists lay still in my grasp. I brushed his lips with mine and felt him relax under me and he opened his mouth.