In which Dallas Winston has a soft spot for more than one Cade, and Gloria's kid brother gets caught up in a murder rap.
𝑭𝒂𝒔𝒕-𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒌 • verb
\ ˈfas(t)-tôk \
to influence or persuade
by fluent, facile, and u...
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Tulsa, Oklahoma | 1965
"GLORY," someone mutters, gently shaking me awake. "Gloria, c'mon, it's time for lunch."
I groan in exhaustion, my eyes blinking open to find my brother, Johnny, kneeling over me. The afternoon sunlight silhouettes his face, the rays producing a halo around his head.
"It's bright as hell."
"Whaddya expect? It's after noon. C'mon, let's go get lunch, I'm starved."
I push myself off the hard pavement of the lot where Johnny and I sleep some nights.
Last night was fairly warm, but I can tell the colder days of autumn aren't far ahead. We'll probably have to start sleeping at home soon – or at least start trying to. Home isn't exactly.. home.
Johnny pulls me to my feet, and hand-in-hand, we head for the Curtis's.
The gang always insists that Johnny and I oughta crash with them, but I'm too proud, and Johnny feels too guilty. But most of the time, I figure it's alright to have a bite at the Curtis's if we hadn't spent the night there, too.
Besides, Darry nags us nonstop if we stop by their house without taking some form of charity before headin' off to school with Pony. He says it's only fair since we keep his kid brother outta trouble, but everyone knows that's bullshit. Ponyboy doesn't get into trouble.
"Aye, look what the puppy dragged in," says Two-Bit as Johnny and I come through the door. I glare at him through the sleep in my eyes.
"Aw, shut up, you'd look like this, too, if you'd only gotten 4 hours of sleep," I say, used to his teasing, but not in the mood.
Two-Bit shuts his trap. Anyone other than the gang would question why I'd only gotten 4 hours of sleep after waking up at noon, but they know not to ask why. They all know why.
Dad was acting up again last night, just like usual. I got Johnny outta there before Dad could start beatin' up on him, and we crashed at the vacant lot. I always have trouble sleeping at the lot, even though it's as familiar to me as my bedroom. Maybe that's the problem.
"Y'all gotta quit sleepin' in that lot," Soda says, taking a bite of toast as he plops down on the arm of the sofa. I step over Two-Bit who sits on the floor, dedicating himself to finding Mickey on the TV.
Darry peeps through the doorway from the kitchen, towel in hand. He points a finger at Johnny and I as we sit down on the sofa next to Soda and Steve: "Soda's right. You two've always got a place here, ya know."
"Ya'll do too much for us already," Johnny says, and I nod in agreement.
"Besides, the lot's pretty comfy," I add, jokingly. "Nice and firm, good for the back."
"Where's Pony?" Johnny asks, changing the subject.
"Probably over at the library makin' love to his books," Two-Bit giggles.
