Chapter 21- I Left

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Note to Readers:  There's only a few chapters left in this story, but then I have an idea for a...triquel? Whatever you call it, a third book in this series.  Please comment and vote!

I stayed where I was in the middle of the intersection, by my bike.

Dally turned back to me and demanded impatiently, "Tara, let's go."

Pony was giving me a strange look, and when I didn't say anything to Dally, he asked me, "What's the matter?"

"I'm not going back," I stated, and the rest of the gang heard me, turning to stare with shock on their faces.

"But--what? Why not?" Pony asked me, confused.

"I just—" I started, but stopped short, not sure what to say. "I can't," I said with a sigh, turning away to get back on my motorcycle.

Dally grabbed my wrist firmly, like a vise, and jerked me back to face him, demanding, "You're coming. Now."

I tried pulling away but he jerked harder, it actually hurt, and repeated sternly, "Now."

I scowled at him, twisting my whole body around so both of our arms were bent at an uncomfortably painful angle, and he let go but stayed planted in front of me, staring me down as I slowly got on the bike.

I guess I kind of had to go with them, I could just run away again when we got home. But the thing is, for some reason, I didn't want to go home. I liked being out here all by myself, with no one telling me what to do, no worries about what everyone would say about what I did, no responsibilities, no school. Almost like back in New York, after Dally had left, but somehow better.

But I also had no one to talk to if I wanted to, no one to laugh at stupid jokes with, and there would be no one to look out for Johnny. Sure the rest of the gang could, but if I hadn't come along to help Johnny out after school that day, he might have something a lot worse than a broken arm right now.

Dally watched me as he got back in Buck's car, and knowing he'd just yell at me to do it anyways, I sullenly pulled in behind Darry's truck after he had turned it around, Dally taking up the rear behind me.

I felt like I was a prisoner being escorted from one jail to another the whole while we drove back home, we only stopped once to get something to eat, and we were back in Tulsa by nightfall.

I parked my bike on the lawn in front of our house, next to Buck's T-bird, and immediately went upstairs to take a shower. I washed a week's worth of grime down the drain before pulling on pajamas—it felt really strange to be clean and have changed clothes after a week in the same ones--and I went downstairs and threw my old ones in the wash, completely ignoring Dally the whole while.

I locked myself in my room and collapsed on my bed, out before I could spend any time fuming over everything that had happened today.

I woke around ten thirty the next morning to Dally yelling up the stairs for me to get up already, and I groggily thought that that was another thing I hadn't missed before rolling over and going back to sleep. I was jolted awake again an hour and a half later to Dally storming into my room and screaming again.

I grumbled, "Shut the hell up, Dally," throwing my pillow over my head, but he snatched it away and glared down at me. That was a sight to ensure I got up on the wrong side of the bed, if I got up at all.

"Guess what? I just got a phone call from the police," he stated.

"What'd you do now?" I asked with a smirk, sitting up in bed. He might go away and let me sleep if I talked to him, which is the only reason I was saying anything.

"It wasn't me this time, Tara. Apparently the day Johnny broke his arm, you jumped a Soc. He has a broken nose, cracked ribs, and a fractured arm. They're pressing charges, and you have to go to court for assault charges, resisting an officer, and running away. Care to explain how this all came about?" he explained in a cold, hard voice, almost mocking me.

"You know what happened," I bit back.

"All I know is that you're going to court tomorrow, and you're grounded," Dally demanded before turning and walking out of my room.

"I'm going to end up in the reformatory anyways," I muttered, and Dally turned to back and asked sharply, "What?"

"Oh, nothing. The principal threatened to put me in reform school, so I'm sure that's what's going to happen. I could save everyone the trouble and just go there right away instead of dealing with a boring court trial," I remarked, feigning nonchalance.

"Tara," Dally said slowly, enunciating each word, "What. Did. You. Do."

Well, I'd get yelled at anyways, so I might as well get it over with.

"Johnny didn't get shoved in gym class and fall and break his arm. Three Socs, all on the football team, were going to jump him after school. I saw, and I figured I'd give Johnny a chance to deal with it himself, but then one of them broke his arm, and I got mad and beat them up. I was called down to the principal's office, he threatened to put me in reform school, and the next morning your friendly neighborhood cop showed up and said I had to appear at a court trial that afternoon or he'd arrest me," I explained, stopping to draw a quick breath and adding, "So I left."

"You left? Running away is not the same thing as leaving," Dally pointed out incredulously, his voice hard.

"Well at least I got a little less than a week of freedom before being shipped off to reform school," I stated defiantly before flopping back down on my bed, pulling the sheets over my head, conversation closed.

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