Chapter Text
“Oh, come on! Live a little. It won’t kill ya, I promise.”
Curly had been at this for a half hour and he could tell he was starting to wear Pony a little thin.
The question still remained whether he would cave and agree to go with Curly or he would snap and kick him out of the house.
He could see Pony grinding his teeth and the splotchy redness of his neck that came out when he got annoyed.
Curly himself was upside down on the Curtis couch. Once he noticed his technique was working, he flipped himself off the couch, narrowly avoiding hitting his head.
He came to sit right next to Ponyboy and began talking into his ear.
“It’s like a rite of passage and it’s dangerous to do alone. You’ve gotta know how dangerous this could end up being.”
Ponyboy finally snapped, looking up from his worksheet for the first time since Curly had entered the room.
“Why the hell do you think I don’t want anything to do with it, Curly? Because it’s dangerous. Very dangerous. I could get arrested or hurt and then the state would be notified. Not to mention Darry would have my hide if he ever caught me doing something like that.”
It was looking like Pony was more inclined to just kick Curly out of the house at this point, but Curly was nothing if not persistent.
“Come on! This is the first time I’m ever getting to do something like this without Tim breathing down my neck. It’s important to me. It’s really, really important to me.”
Pony was reaching the end of his rope.
“I’ll give you 15% percent?”
He scoffed.
“20?”
Silence.
“25?”
Pony looked up and regarded him like he was stupid.
“How bad do you need me to help you with this?”
Curly didn’t even have to think.
“Real bad. There ain’t no one else I know who’d be able to help with this and not go blabbing to Tim about it.”
“Real bad, huh? If you really need my help that badly you’ll give me 50%.”
Curly blanched. “50? Man, you’re crazy. You’re not even supplying the goods!”
Pony shrugged.
“How about 40? Would that work for you?”
Pony thought on it for a minute before sighing and saying, “Fine. Only ‘cause I know how much those rich kids will spend on shit like this.”
Curly was quick to pick up Pony’s hand and shake it, grinning. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Baby Curtis.”
Pony, for as much as he tried, couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. ”Yeah, yeah. Now get out of here, my brothers’ll be home any minute now.”
Curly was quick to hop up and head for the door at the threat of either one of the older Curtis brothers coming home to find him and Pony alone together in a house. Neither of them seemed to like him too much.
He pauses at the door.
“I’ll come get you at 2:00. You better be up.”
“Leave!”
Curly was quick to duck out of the house to avoid the pencil that was flying at his head, high-speed.
It was good he left when he did, too. Pretty much the second he turned the corner at the top of the street, he heard the engine of Steve Randle’s old car pulling up.
Ponyboy had been filled with nervous energy ever since Steve and Soda had pulled up to the house after work, laughing and talking.
Soda had given him a kind of weird look but ultimately let it go. Steve didn’t even really look at him.
He just stayed working on his homework at the coffee table, as a distraction more than anything else.
Just like pretty much every day, after Soda and Steve came Two-Bit, then came Johnny, then came Darry, then came Dallas looking for Johnny.
He wasn’t able to stay focused at all. As soon as he finished with his homework, there was nothing else to keep him occupied. He had nothing to do but focus on the feeling of time passing.
He could barely focus on the words and music constantly washing over him. It was all very familiar, but it filled him with a sense of uneasiness.
He was on autopilot all throughout dinner and the poker game that followed.
He barely paid attention to Darry’s quiet “Good job, kiddo.” after looking over Pony’s homework. It was something he usually cherished.
He stayed in the weird floaty, unfocused state until he eventually ended up “going to bed” at 11:00.
By “going to bed” he really meant “staring at the ceiling waiting for Soda to go to bed” but no one else had to know that.
When he eventually heard Steve wishing Soda goodnight, he turned over, facing the wall.
He heard the soft sound of Soda’s footsteps and felt the dip in the mattress. He heard him lean over and whisper “good night” and felt him brush the hair out of Pony’s face before his arm settled over him.
The second Soda’s breath evened out, and Pony had heard at least Two-Bit and Steve leave for the night, he got up quietly, careful not to wake Soda.
He leaned up carefully against the bedroom door, listening hard for any sound or movement.
There was nothing.
He didn’t risk using the door. There wouldn’t be any suspicion from the front door opening, but if the door to Pony and Soda’s room opened up without the bathroom door immediately following it, Darry would get up and look to see what was wrong.
It made getting up to get water difficult, but it would make sneaking out to do something stupid with Curly Shepard impossible.
So, Pony crossed to the other side of the room, right next to his desk, where the window was.
As soon as he looked back to ensure Soda was still sleeping, he opened up the window as quick as possible to minimize the squealing noise it made.
Soda didn’t even notice.
Pony was already dropping down into the almost-dead bushes next to the house.
If he had to guess, he would say it was still 15 or so minutes until 2:00. Curly still waited a little bit further up the street in Tim’s car.
He was quick to run over. He had never felt this paranoid about sneaking out before.
He basically ran over to the car, opening the door and ducking into the passenger seat before he could doubt this anymore than he already had.
“Glad you decided to show up.” Curly said. It was clearly a joke but his tone was more serious than it ever normally was.
Pony had seen Curly in this type of mood only a couple times. He tried to keep Pony out of the criminal stuff, but any time he wasn’t able to, Pony would see him in this serious mood.
There was no room for joking when Curly had a million other things to worry about.
There wasn’t a single thing that couldn’t go wrong about this whole thing.
Which is why Pony didn’t protest when Curly reached over and handed him a shiny pocket knife for the night. “Because you don’t carry a blade.” he said quickly at Pony’s questioning look.
He was slow while driving to the spot. He was bringing them into the west side. Pony knew, logically, that this was where the deal would have to be because the Socs would be the ones to buy the stuff, but it still made his skin crawl, being this far out of their territory at night. Even with the heavy weight of the knife in his pocket.
Curly looked carefully through the dark to see the street names, until eventually, he found the right signs and pulled to a slow stop.
He leaned over a tiny bit, nudging Pony with his elbow.
“You get out first, show them I didn’t come alone.”
Pony considered arguing for just a few moments before realizing that Curly had more experience than him. He could also feel the thick tension in the car and knew Curly wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, he subtly took a deep breath before ducking out of the car and standing tall, looking over the other side of the car towards the alley they were parked in front of.
The second his door slammed shut, Curly got out the other side and waited for Pony to come next to him before walking down into the alley.
It was dark. The only street lamps that worked were further down the street, so only the moon shed any light on the gathering.
There were three dudes in the alley. One of them was real small, turning his head from side to side like something was going to jump out at him. The other two were of average height and build. Pony thought he recognized the one farthest to the left as one of the JV basketball players, but he didn’t say anything.
It wasn’t anyone he and Curly couldn't take on, especially together, but it still put him on edge.
Curly didn’t say anything. Just stood there calmly with his hand in his pocket until the littlest one scrambled to get out his wallet.
He pulled out a few bills and stepped forward, giving into Curly after stumbling over his own feet. “Here.” he muttered before taking a step back.
Curly was quick counting out the money before taking out a small baggie of three circular, white, little pills and tossing them to the little guy, who was barely able to catch it.
The dude practically ran over to his friends who looked at the pills through the plastic for what seemed like too long.
Pony tightened his grip on the heavy handle of the blade in his pocket.
Finally, they stopped obsessing over the bag and turned towards Pony and Curly again.
One of the bigger guys piped up, saying, “We’re good, then?” And, yeah, that was definitely the voice of Brian Turner. Pony had a few classes with him.
Curly responded, “We’re good.”
The other mid-sized guy was quick to respond with “Yeah, good” when Brian’s eyes went to him. Curly stepped on Pony’s foot, just hard enough that no one else would notice. He also said “Good.”
The second Curly and Pony turned around, he heard two sets of footsteps walk away at a normal pace and one set race off like he had the cops on his tail.
They walked back to the car in silence. The second they were back on the road though, Curly was quick to explode with laughter.
“Damn! First time selling without Tim anywhere near it. What a rush. Man, did you see the little guy? Jesus, he was scared out of his mind! I knew something was up with one of them when they wanted to meet in a dark alleyway like this was a movie.”
Pony let the tension bleed from his shoulders and laughed along with Curly.
“Yeah. Did you see him? He almost tripped like five times!”
“Oh, like you were doing any better? I could basically hear your heartbeat, man.” Curly shot back, jostling Pony slightly with his elbow. “C’mon. Let’s go eat or buy some candy or something.”
Pony thought on it for a second. Every second he was out, his chance of getting caught by his brothers got higher. But he could barely even think for how his body was practically buzzing with nervous energy. He knew that would wake Soda up and then he would have to deal with questions.
“Sure. What’s even open at this time?” Pony eventually agreed.
“It’s not that late, man.” Curly responded, shaking his head.
Pony laughed and looked out the window as Curly led them down much more familiar seats.
They were in that odd intersection of town neither greasers nor Socs could claim as their own. It was where most of the restaurants and stores were.
It was a brightly lit strip. Different than other parts of town that were dark and cold by this time of night.
Pony expected Curly to pull into one of the restaurant parking lots with how he was complaining about being hungry, but he ended up pulling into a convenience store parking lot.
Both of them were quick to climb out of the car, laughing and joking as they walked into the building.
The one kid who worked at the counter froze up upon seeing them. Pony’s hair wasn’t really greased at this time of night, just combed back messily with his fingers, but Curly’s was.
He must’ve thought they were there to steal something. Neither of them had a problem ignoring him.
“You like Pepsi, right?” Curly asked, not waiting for an answer and picking up both a Pepsi and a Coke.
They walked through the candy aisle, Pony picking up a chocolate bar and covering Curly as he slipped a pack of Now and Laters into his pocket.
They walked up to the front register, placing their stuff on the counter. The guy working seemed to take the first breath since they had walked into the shop.
He was quick ringing everything up. “42 cents.” he said quietly, still eyeing them carefully.
Curly shrugged and pulled out the money they had gotten earlier, handing the guy a one and waiting patiently until he got his change. He couldn’t help but notice that there seemed to be more money than he had thought when it had first been given to Curly in the alley.
Pony picked up his Pepsi and chocolate and started walking out of the store, Curly in tow.
It was a testament to how good Curly must be feeling that not only did he only steal one thing from the store, but he also held off on knocking over the newspaper display by the front door.
Once they were back in the car, Pony was quick to ask, “How much money did you make off that deal, man?”
Curly’s eyes lit up at the prospect of bragging and he leaned closer. “18 bucks.”
It was whispered like a secret, and Pony sat there open-mouthed for a second before his brain caught up. “For that many pills? There were like 3 in the bag!”
Curly nodded along, ripping open his pack of Now and Laters. “Yeah. LSD is strong stuff and those rich kids will pay crazy money for it. It’s going 6 dollars a gram. Each one of those little tabs is a gram.”
Pony leaned back, impressed. “Damn.”
Curly laughed. “Yeah, man. What, did you think drug dealers did it for the love of the game?”
Pony laughed along with him.
It had been 30 minutes since he had left the house according to the small clock built into the dashboard, but Pony didn’t find himself worried.
He and Curly took their time, eating their candy and drinking their soda while making their way back to the Curtis house.
Right before he turned onto the street, Curly shut off the headlights.
He parked in that same spot a little way away from where the house actually was.
“Anyway, man. I really appreciate your help tonight.” Curly said, turning slightly towards Pony and fishing the money out of his pockets. “What’s 40% of 18 dollars?”
Pony laughed a little before answering, “7 dollars, 20 cents.”
Curly didn’t even make a face at the total, just counting out the money and handing Pony a five, 2 ones, and 2 dimes.
Pony got out of the car, saying, “Thanks, man.” before shutting the door.
“’Course, Ponykid! See ya next time I need help!”
“Wait-”
But Curly was already off, down the street towards his own house, leaving behind his laugh lingering in the air like a curse.
‘Next time’
Yeah, right.
Pony was quiet making his way back to the house, hopping the fence in one clean go and circling around to the side where Soda and his bedroom was.
The window was still left open, which made it easy to hop back in. He was lucky he had climbed in and out of windows so many times or he would have tumbled onto the floor and definitely woken up Sodapop.
He shut the window and kicked his shoes off in one quick movement, heading towards the bed. He didn’t even bother to take his t-shirt and jeans off, barely noticing the weight of the money and knife he had never given back.
The second he turned towards the bed, though, he froze.
There, was Soda, sitting up, cross-legged on their bed, awake.
His pockets suddenly felt much, much heavier.
“Hey, Pone. Whatcha doin’ up?”