Begin [Ponyboy Curtis]

Part of the Group

POSSIBLE TRIGGERS: Misogynistic undertones

Playlist: Are You In? - Incubus

Word of the Rumble spread around school just under the radar of the teachers. The boys had it set for Friday, people who didn't even know Two-bit or Randy or that Soc planned to show up just to fight about a disagreement they weren't there to see.

Ponyboy and I sat together in English reading each other's stories one last time before we turned them in.

"I've never read any political books," Ponyboy grinned and set my story down on his desk, "this is a really good story though."

"Thanks," I smiled at him and laid his story on top of mine, "So what are you going to tell your friends now that we're not working on our project anymore?"

He stood up to turn in our assignments, "Oh come on, Dot. You're basically one of us now."

They were called the Curtis gang, and being one of them is an honor. They're different compared to the other gangs, they're more like a family.

I looked around, making sure no one was listening to us. Ponyboy sat down and leaned into me, catching on, "does that mean I can come to the Rumble?"

"We've never had a girl at a rumble," I raised my eyebrow at him, so he rephrased his response, "I'd have to ask Darry. He's technically our leader so..." he shrugged.

"...So let's talk to him today."

"I," Ponyboy bit his lip, "yeah okay," he replied quickly as Mr. Symes stood up in front of the class to start his lecture.

I leaned back in my seat, unable to pay attention. All I could think about was how I was going to convince Darry to let me in at the Rumble.

Ponyboy was more quiet than usual on the walk to his house. So much so that I dropped my mini-cruiser and started skating next to him slowly, letting the sound of my wheels on the pavement fill the silence.

"You know, people get hurt really bad at rumbles," he finally said.

I didn't take my eyes off the concrete, "that's what a fight is isn't it? Hurting each other?"

"We're settling a disagreement-"

"Through a fight. You don't have to fight it out, but you do. So that's what it is."

He just sighed and we finished the walk in silence. We got to the house, Ponyboy walked in and went straight to Darry, "Dorthy wants to fight in the rumble."

He and the other guys there (which was everyone but Steve and Soda) all looked at Ponyboy and then at me.

Darry grinned, "why don't we talk on the porch?" I nodded, spinning on my heels and following him out front, he stopped before getting to the door and put his hand on Pony's chest, "not you."

Ponyboy looked offended, but Johnny threw his arm around Ponyboy's neck and brought him back to the rest of the guys.

"I know, you've never had a girl at a Rumble-"

He plopped down on the porch swing and softly patted the seat next to him. I crossed my arms and sat down, expecting a lecture on how a fight is not a girl's place.

"I don't care that you're a girl, Dorthy. In fact, I've always found the other gangs childish for not allowing women in their gang. Some of them have sisters just as if not tougher than them. But they keep their sisters at home to patch them up after rumbles. I just have to ask why you want to fight?"

I've come to appreciate the time I spent with the other boys, but it made me more sensitive to the stories they told about being chased through alleyways, ganged up on, stalked, and jumped. The worst being Johnny's story, where he was beaten so badly he could barely move. I just knew Randy and Bob were the ones that attacked Johnny. It wasn't hard to figure out after hearing the story and having already known those two.

"I care about you guys... I feel like they mess with you, they mess with me."

We had a mutual understanding that I would probably never know the full struggles of a greaser. Raised poor, worried about where your next meal was coming from, sometimes abusive parents. However, we also understood that we were there for each other.

"We care about you too. And Ponyboy... Ponyboy is going to take it personally if you get hurt real bad. Just promise you'll be careful while you're there."

"I promise," I nodded at him.

He smiled and tilted his head back relaxing on the swing for a moment, "okay."

I waited, still a little anxious about the conversation, and how easy it went, "now what?"

He smirked, "just wait a couple-a-minutes. We'll make them think I initiated you or somethin'."

I stifled a giggle, "fine by me."

Darry was right, Ponyboy loathed the idea of me being at the Rumble. We all went out to the backyard, only for Pony to wedge himself in a corner and start smoking.

"You can fight, right?" Johnny pushed his fist into his jacket pockets and looked up at me through his long hair.

I crossed my arms, genuinely thinking it over. I've only been jumped once my whole life, but it was by a homeless man in DC and he left me alone after I gave up my wallet, "yeah. I'm stronger than I look, John."

He nodded and raised his head, I could see the seriousness behind his eyes, "Socs are ruthless, Dorthy."

Instinctively I glanced at his scar, nodding back, "I know."

"If you wanna," Darry broke the glum mood, "you can start coming by after I get offa work? We'll teach you some gymnastics tips I learned at the YMCA a couple summers back."

I grinned, looking up at him, "I'd like that, thank you."

Those of us that smoked traded cigarettes and lighters, the rest of us just stood with the circle avoiding the second-hand smoke. I noticed Dally kept glancing at me between conversations. I wedged my thumbs into my pocket awkwardly and looked over to Ponyboy. He wasn't paying attention, instead, he was lost in the sky. Probably identifying shapes in the clouds.

I had mixed feelings about Dally. On one hand, he was like Johnny's big brother, or guardian "angel", or something. But Ponyboy had some choice words about him. It wasn't long ago we were sitting up in my room, avoiding our homework by playing catch with a small bouncy ball.

"All the girls swoon over him," Pony had ranted, "but he's... he's an asshole."

"I understand," I bounced the ball back to him, "some people don't care about nobody, yet everyone wants 'em." He just scoffed in response so I added, "Dally's not my type anyway."

He had smiled at me, making a swirl in my chest and redness in my cheeks.

Now he won't even look at me, just because of a Rumble.

"It's getting late," I announced, "Dal, care to walk me home?"

"Me?" Dally asked, but I gave him a look. It was subtle, no one else was even paying attention to us, but he caught on quickly and nodded, "sure hun, wouldn't want you gettin' jumped before your first Rumble."

I tried to give Ponyboy a reassuring smile before I left, but he sulked with his pack of cigarettes in that corner. I decided it was better to just give him time.