East West Sunset - A Darry Curtis Fanfiction

Chapter Nine

The boy started awake, rubbing his face and glancing sheepishly up at Mr. Syme. He looked groggy, confused, and probably still half-asleep. "I-uh-um, pardon me?" he stuttered.

"Can you summarize what has happened so far in Romeo and Juliet for Ms. Jean?"

"Who's Jean?" the boy mumbled.

"Ah, never mind. The teenage brain seems to be in a constant state of sleep deprivation. Ah, Ms. Valance. Would you care to answer?" Mr. Syme called on one of the Soc girls at the front, one who had a cheerleading bow in her ginger hair.

"Well, we've learned that there is a feud going on between two families and that Romeo and Juliet are from the opposing sides. They fall in love anyway, though," she said pertly.

"And your thoughts on this are?" Mr. Syme prompted. "Is this good or bad?"

"Completely ridiculous," the girl replied without so much as a pause to consider the question. "Their relationship caused too much conflict between the two families, and Romeo and Juliet even died because of it. People should stick to what's safe: their own kind. That's what's best- and safest-  for everyone," she concluded wisely.

I had never hated an answer more. I glared at the back of her head, which was covered in perfect ringlets, disliking her already. 

"Coming from such an expert on the topic," Mr. Syme said kindly. "How about someone else? What are your thoughts on Romeo and Juliet's doomed relationship?"

I decided to raise my hand, lifting my chin challengingly. Mr. Syme pointed to me, and everyone in the class turned to look in my direction. I didn't let that faze me, though; I shook my hair back confidently and said, "I think it's fine, even admirable. Romeo and Juliet persevered in their love even though others told them it wouldn't work out. Sure, they died in the end, but the love that everyone thought was doomed ended up doing some good. If Romeo and Juliet had 'stuck to their own kind,' where would their families be? Probably dead or dying because of their feud. But because those two people loved each other, even though they were from different families and backgrounds, they helped their families to realize that they shouldn't fight anymore." I lifted my chin and looked the ginger-haired girl hard in the eye. "They taught their families that maybe they didn't have to be so different after all."

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I struggled through the rest of the day tiredly, wishing it would just end. The rest of my classes seemed to be easy enough, but by the end of the day, I was so loaded down with books that it was hard to carry them all. I had barely seen Pony anywhere to ask him where our shared locker was, so I didn't have a place to drop some of them off. The only time I had seen him, even briefly, was across the crowded cafeteria, but by the time I had fought my way over to where I had seen him standing, he was gone. My arms were aching from the weight of so many schoolbooks: Now I had my chemistry textbook, history book, and math workbook to carry as well as my English books. I was taking home economics and music as well, but luckily both of those teachers had adopted a more hands-on approach and didn't assign me more books for their classes.

After my last class of the day- Math- I stepped out into the hallway again. It was even more of a zoo then it had been in the morning; the thrill of dismissal seemed to have infected everyone and tripled their usually exhaustive energy. I wondered how crazy the halls would become on Friday afternoon. After all, it was only Monday, and already things were extremely wild, and the energy was escalating fast.

I quickly ducked under people's arms and skirted around brewing fistfights, looking for Ponyboy. Luckily, the school was only two stories, so it wouldn't be an obscene amount of time before I found him. I paced down the hallway at a clipped speed. Every time I saw a greasy-haired kid, I almost called out Pony's name before realizing it was someone else. I was almost to the opposite end of the hallway from my math classroom when I saw something that made me stop in my tracks.

A girl, heavily pregnant by the looks of her round belly, was pinned against the lockers by two boys. One was snarling in her face, while the other hung back a bit. She held her schoolbooks protectively in front of her chest. Her face was turned up defiantly, but I could see the fear in her eyes. I felt pity and anger for her at once. She was very pretty, with midlength blue-black hair and striking features, and she was wearing jean capri pants and a cropped t-shirt that looked too big for her but covered her belly neatly. 

"You better not have cheated on Hank, you know he'll beat you if that baby's not his," I overheard the boy close to her growl. "He sent me to make sure that you're telling the truth."

"If he wanted to ask me he'd ask me himself. He's my husband, for God's sake. Now get out of my way," the girl snarled right back at him.

Husband? I halted in the middle of the hallway in confusion. The girl looked to be only about Pony's age, maybe a year older, but certainly younger than me. How could she be married? Then I realized that her 'husband' was probably the one who had gotten her pregnant, and she had needed to marry him in order to save face. 

"He only married you because you were his buddy's younger sister," the boy said scathingly. "It's not like he loves you."

"And I only married him because I thought I was pregnant. Then he went and really got me pregnant, so I couldn't leave him. Neat, how he worked that out, isn't it?" Her voice contained just as much venom and scorn, but she shrunk back from the boy as he raised a fist up to her face. I dreaded the moment I knew had to be coming; he was probably going to hit her. I desperately wanted to avoid that scene as much as possible. I didn't want to see this pregnant girl get beaten.

"Do you think I'm stupid, Angela?" the boy snarled, his fist trembling in Angela's face.

"Hey!" I said stepping in and grabbing his arm. "Don't hit her."

"Mind your own business, girl!" he jeered at me.

"I mean it. Get away from her," I hissed at him. 

He only sneered at me, not moving his fist from where it hovered in front of Angela's face. It was the other boy who took my words seriously. "Come on now, Joe, Jesus. Hank'll kill you if he finds out you beat his girl," he said nervously. "He'll beat the both of us."

Joe seemed to see the clear good sense in his friend's words, because he stepped away from Angela and let his fist fall to his side. "Alright, fine. But I won't forget this, Angela, you hear?" he threatened menacingly.

Angela didn't answer. She just stared after him, a hard, blazing look of hatred in her eyes, as he spun away and walked down the hall, his friend trailing after him. Then she turned to me. "You didn't need to do that," she said coldly. "I had it under control."

"It didn't look like it," I said softly.

"Who do you think you are? I'm a Shepard, for God's sake. I can handle anything," she growled ungratefully. Then she turned, one hand placed protectively on her swollen belly, and walked slowly away, leaving me standing alone in the noisy hallway.