My Year With Him

Chapter 13

5/27/1968

Dear Journal,

I'm not gonna tell Curly about Ponyboy kissing me. I mean, it's never gonna happen again. While im dating Curly, at least. I mean, I don't see a point in getting him all worked up for nothin'.

Anyways, I gotta go to school. I'm not gettin' the bus today, obviously. I have to go outside and wait for Ponyboy.

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Dear Journal,

5/27/1968

I know I wrote in this already today, but I don't care. I just wanna tell you about what happened today.

Ponyboy walked me to school. And I may have held his hand. He held mine, so don't blame me. We barely talked, though. Whatever. That's not all that happened. That wasn't even that important.

So I was at lunch. I was sitting with Ponyboy, and Cherry and her friend Marcia were sittin' across from us. I don't hate her anymore. In all honestly, I don't know why I ever did. I've still never talked to her, though. Anyway, I was talkin' to Ponyboy when Curly strolled over. He tapped on my shoulder.

"Hey, (Y/N), can I talk to you for a sec?" Curly asked.

"Uh, sure, babe," I answered. "I'll be right back," I said, turning to Ponyboy at the table. Curly took my hand and walked me towards the other end of the cafeteria.

"People are sayin' that you're cheatin' on me with Ponyboy." I could tell that he was angry. His face and his voice showed it. "Are you?"

"Babe, no. Why would you think that?" I touched his arm.

"People are saying that. Is it true or not..." He was getting madder and I could tell.

"No, it's not. I'm dating you, Curly," I said. I took his hand and kissed his cheek. He smiled and nodded.

"Tomorrow morning, can we meet up before class? I wanna spend more time with you," he suggested. "We can meet in front of the buildings. You know, where the buses drop off the kids."

"Sure." I kissed his cheek. I walked back to our table simply sayin', "Sorry," to Ponyboy. He smiled.

We talked for a few more minutes when the school bell rang. I stood up and walked to my next class.

You know what? It's funny, Curly has some anger issues, but I still liked him at a time. I mean, I don't really understand it, but I guess the past me did, huh? Well, whatever. I'm still datin' Curly and I keep telling myself that there's nothing going on between me and Ponyboy.

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Dear Journal,

5/28/1968

Today I got off the bus and I saw Curly standin' in front of the building, drinkin' out of a paper bag.

"Curly!" I said, running to him. "You can't have alcohol here!"

"Relax, babe," he said. I could tell that he wasn't drunk, but its still alcohol, you know? "You wanna sip?" He held the bag out to me. I shook my head.

"You want me to put it away?" he asked. He was getting really mad and I could tell.

"Yes!" I said in a hushed, annoyed tone. He took a bottle cap out of his pocket and screwed the cap onto the bottle inside the bag. He put it in his bag.

"See, babe? Calm down." He put his arm around me. "Everything's fine." Then Ponyboy walked by.

"Hello, (Y/N). Curly." He smiled then began to walk away.