As much as Curly and Angela were always around each other and talking, they should've considered the other as their best friend. Talking came easy for them, it was almost effortless. It used to be like that with Tim too, but it was mainly Curly talking and Tim giving his wise advice.
Anxiety ridden Curly sat across from Angela and smoked quickly on his cigarette. He figured he was working on his second pack of the day. He had been feeling weird, it wasn't fear, he didn't really fear anything. But the feeling was dreadful and he hated it.
"Okay, que pasa? You ain't saying shit about my stories today."
Curly tries to remember a time when he actually did say something about her stories. She talked so fast he could barely get a word in, the words "Mhm" were casually thrown in as she talked so she thought he was listening.
"Tim is starting a war with Tiber." Curly says.
Curly takes another puff of his cigarette and shrugs. They were in good standing with Tiber, they pretty much kept out of each other's way, that meant selling drugs on their own turf.
"How much have you been smoking?"
"A shit ton." Curly replies. "This ain't the first war we had. Tim just ain't think straight about it."
It wasn't the first war they had. But it was usually turf wars, kids would be jumped here and there but stealing a gangs connect was foul.
Angelas eyebrows push together as she leaned in and listened to Curly talking.
"What do you mean. You think Los Tio's had something to do with it?"
"I know they did." Curly said while reaching for his pop.
He looked around for the waitress who spilled the slushee on him but he couldn't find her.
"They wanna steal Tibers biggest connection. Why else would Tim wanna do it?" Curly asks.
The meeting to Oklahoma City had gone well. Paulie used his famous smooth talking skills to put them into the beginning of a business deal. The only thing they needed was Tims approval and the shaking of hands and everything would be finished.
"Well, you need to be careful. My brother's ain't being lowered into the ground over fucking drugs." Angela says.
She knew what gang life was about and how it often ended in death or prison. She was a tough kid indeed, but the thought of losing her brothers was too much. She already lost both her parents.
"I'll be alright." Curly smirks.
"Well you'd better 'cause we're all we got left."
Curly bites one of Angela's fries and the feeling of anxiety had left his mind. It didn't take long for him to start feeling back to normal, not until he was alone with his thoughts at least.
"I think I see Sylvia. I'm gonna catch up with her."
Angela sits up and slides her milkshake over to Curly so he could settle the tab. She always skipped out before the meal was paid for. It was useless because he wouldn't ever let her pay for a meal.
Curly turned to watch Angela meet up with Sylvia. Angela had been known for lying, she was too fast for her age Curly thought. Hanging on boys who could be her older brother and not thinking about the messes she made for Curly and Tim to clean up.
Sylvia wasn't much better. She had reminded him of a sneaky cat, graceful but a pain in the ass who always was up to no good. She was the kid sister of an old Shepard Gang member and sold pills on the side. She was hardly a threat to the Shepard Gang. He just hoped she wouldn't drag Angela into it, she seemed smarter than that though.
Once Curly was sure she met up with Sylvia he threw a few coins on the table to handle the bill. He took one last sip of his pop and left the diner. It seemed like everyday the air was getting colder and colder in Tulsa. Curly still hadn't gotten around to washing that damn leather jacket, instead he just slapped on Tims old one.
Curly fixed his eyes on a figure walking in the same direction as him. Once they settled, he realized it was the cute waitress who spilled the slushee on him.
"Hey, now!" Curly called out to her.
He quickly caught up to her, her legs were no match against his long ones. It was a surprise Curly turned out to be tall, he hadn't had a growth spurt until he was almost 16.
The girl stopped and looked up at Curly. For the first time he could admire her features. She was doll like, big brown eyes that reminded him of a puppy, plump lips, high cheekbones with a round nose.
"Hi.." She mumbled.
The girl was timid. The way she held her bag close to her and avoided looking at him, he knew that she was sort of shy and obviously sheltered.
"I'm sorry about the slushee. If you want I could get you another one." She said quickly.
Curly noticed that she wasn't in her uniform. Instead, she had on a light blue sweater and a plaid skirt that fit around her legs perfectly.
"Forget about the slushee." Curly replies.
The Johnson girl switches her feet. She's wearing black Mary Janes. The outfit is different than what Angela would wear or Sylvia but yet similar.
"Can I walk you home?"
The girl gets a puzzled look on her face. As if she has no idea why he's asking if he can walk her home. He could understand why she was skeptical, but part of him was curious about her and another part would feel bad if something happened if she were alone.
"I don't think that's a good idea." She mumbles. "I reckon it might be a problem because... You're white."
Curly let's out a soft chuckle. He was used to people's wrong accusations. To some he looked chicano but to most he looked sort of white. It was because his eyes were blue and his skin was pale. His father had been half white and half chicano, his mother a full chicana. He could only imagine how pissed his Tio's were when they found out she was pregnant by Stephen Shepard.
"I'm chicano. I go to the same school as your brother, Booker T."
For a while, Curly went to Will Roger's High School until Curly's freshman year and the kid's wouldn't stop throwing around racial slurs. He had to defend himself ever day and it got so dangerous he couldn't go anywhere without backup.
The look of embarrassment falls on her face and she scrunches it up, avoiding looking at his eyes.
"I'm sorry." She adds.
Curly's eyes are fixed partly on her chest and partly on her shining gold cross the rested just below her collarbone. He hadn't fooled around with many religious girls, ironically, they always turned out to be too wild for him. But by the way she looked, he doubted she was a partier.
"C'mon." Curly says. "Let's get you home."
The two begin walking in quiet. The only thing that can be heard is their shoes crushing the tiny rocks below their feet. His mind wonders what exactly he wants from her, getting snatch was a dime a dozen for him, but he couldn't help but feel intrigued.
"Aren't you in that gang? The Shepards?" She asked.
If it had been anyone else Curly would feel offended. Everyone was supposed to know the gangs around here but the way she asked about it was genuine and actually curious.
"Yeah. My big brother runs it." Curly says proudly.
He finds himself smiling at the statement and surprised of how quickly he praised his brother. They hadn't been on good terms and everyone knew that but his accomplishments were something to brag about. He was ruthless and Curly loved it.
"Groovy." She says shortly.
As they walk, he wonders if he offended her. Religion was something that was complicated for him. People turned their noses at him and branded him with the term "Hoodlum" before he could even get a breath out. He wondered where her boundaries were, she didn't seem bothered.
"So you're the Shepard who's always in trouble?" She asks.
Curly's name was whispered among everyone in town. Delinquent training to be a thug, on the track to die before 23. He heard it all and he wasn't surprised that she did too. But the way she reacted didn't seem like she cared much.
"Yeah. That's me, I'm Curly." he tells her.
He watches her face as she frowns. It's easy to forget that everyone had a nickname in the neighborhood. Your nickname became your actual name and your real name was foreign.
"Well, it's Charles. But everyone calls me Curly." he adds in.
The girl has a light smile on her face and he can't help but notice. It's sort of cute, in a totally innocent way. He has a voice inside his head, screaming to get away from her before she gets ruined but he can't bring himself to leave her.
"My names Daisy. Like in the Great Gatsby."
He isn't sure if he's heard the book before. Maybe Pony read it in front of him but Curly wouldn't be able to pick out a book. They didn't even interest him, the closest thing to reading he did was reading comics out of the paper and occasionally Superheros down at the comic store on the west side.
"Thats.. A nice name."
It fit her. She was dainty like a flower, soft, delicate and pretty.
"You go to that Catholic school, huh? You like it?" He asked her.
Th catholic school had all types of girls. His ma had even been one but the slaps with the wood must not have been enough to scare her because she still spread her legs for a sleazy bum he called Dad.
Daisy shrugs and takes a few moments to answer, like she's thinking of the right things to say.
"Its alright. I reckon they're strict but I know they care."
"Do they beat yall with paddles and shit?"
He notices that she doesn't flinch when he curses. Her brother must not of sheltered her that much or maybe her parents cursed around her.
Curly could remember ma trying to scare Angela, saying she'd send her to a catholic school and they'd beat her if she didn't get in line. He could still hear her cries and screaming for Tim. Tim had been their savior. A place of comfort, a person who was always there despite his flaws. If it weren't for him, Curly probably would've been dead.
"Sometimes. Not often, I meant strict like the word of God and praying. That kind of stuff." She says, laughing a bit at the end of the sentence.
"That blows, you don't go to no parties? Have some fun?"
By now they're approaching some houses that look similar to his own. Not very nice on the outside. A part of him feels a little comforted by it, it's strange really.
"Naw. I go dancing with my girlfriend, Karen, but that's about it." She answers.
"Shit gets wild at parties." Curly tells her.
He had been going to parties since he was about 11. He used to sneak out the house to get into Bucks parties, he'd always get caught but it was worth the beer. She stops in front of a house that looks decent. It's got one story, like his. But it's decorated, as if they tried to make it better than it is.
"This is my stop."
"You should let me take you for a coke."
Daisy blushes before shaking her head at him. She probably thinks he wants to get her in the backseat of his car. While that idea doesn't sound too bad, he wasn't keen on rushing chicks.
"My brother wouldn't go for it. He'd have your head." She jokes.
Curly shrugs and looks at her. She gives him a light smile and he can't help but wonder what it would be like to kiss her.
"One day soon." he says to her.
He watches as she walks up the steps. The stupid voice is still telling him to leave her alone but he doesn't want to. No, he can't. Because if you found some pure you shouldn't let go. Not that easy anyway.