Chapter Text
Inhale
Hold
Exhale
Inhale
Hold
Exhale
Those were the only thoughts that were in your head when you smoked. All the exhausting thoughts and events that would consistently flood your brain would disappear after the first exhale. You sure did love that feeling that was just so hard to snag in Windrixville.
You remembered being taught about cigarettes in class, the teacher was saying something along the lines of ‘dopamine’ and the danger of cigs in the school of the small countryside town you lived in, but…you never really did listen to anything those teachers said. I mean, you were always busy with other stuff, if you weren’t lugging heavy things around you were busy relaxing for the little time you had to yourself. Why listen to teachers when you’d be out and about doing more manual work than calculating confusing numbers on a sheet of paper? Is what you figured.
You were out of your small hick hometown right now, but you were only going to be here in Tulsa for a couple of days as the custom of visiting relatives was very much present. Even if they were so many miles away and you didn’t even know them that well, but your parents were persistent to keep in touch with any and all family that didn’t even bother looking like they wanted to reciprocate that feeling.
They’re definitely sweet folks though, something that you noted, but were very distant and at times enclosed in their own little world.
It was hard to talk to them comfortably and was even harder to think about coming around liking them to at least try to enjoy their company, so you didn’t bother putting any effort into your relationship with them. You’d only see them a few hours a day anyway.
Tulsa was a different thing altogether though, long-story-short, you didn’t like it here.
Even if you weren’t so perceptive in your studies, you could already tell the weird hierarchy this town had, especially with the two main groups that divided this place. First group were kids around your age wearing expensive watches and rings that just screamed ‘spoiled rich kid’ and second were the other folks that always had the greasiest hair known to mankind with these leather jackets that seemed latched to their backs like parasites.
It didn’t take long to know what kind of dynamic they had, especially with all the looks they were shooting each other. And those switchblades, oh those damn switchblades, what were kids doing casually swinging them around here?! It was a town full of hoodlums that you were forced to be with for a few days a month or maybe a year, it really all depended on what your parents felt like.
All wasn’t that bad though, those folks with the leather jackets, greasers they called themselves, were intimidating, but if you found the right ones they were easy to trade with. The cigarettes, alcohol, and the weed, oh the weed, you shivered a bit as you thought of the addictive joint that would spread all the way through your body.
The greasers didn’t seem to mind trading some for something like a booze or a couple of bucks, but boy was it just heavenly getting stoned for the first time in the last couple of occasions you’ve gone here.
Your parents and relatives were always busy doing all the weird shit they wanted to accomplish in Tulsa, so you were free to get drunk and smoke an amount that seemed almost taboo compared to the small humble town you grew up in, not that the amount had to be much to enter that criteria.
But, right now, you were taking it slow with the first cigarette you’ve had in weeks as you casually walked down the sidewalk.
It was sunny out, and the sun felt surprisingly nice on the exposed parts of your skin from your short sleeved flannel as you inhaled more nicotine from your cigarette.
You took in the scenery of the streets before looking at your arm, with just that you started to think. Since your brain was starting to feel more empty than tranquil after a bit of puffing the intoxicating fumes.
You were a farm boy, but your arms never seemed big enough for all the work you did. I mean, you could count as a lumberjack if you wanted, just for the amount of wood you chopped and were always tasked by your father to, in order to ‘be accepted into manhood’ or whatever that meant.
Father?
Oh yeah, your father, you had forgotten about him, truthfully you didn’t understand him. But he was strict and he’d probably kill you for what you were holding between your lips—
Wait, which part of town were Ma and Pa visiting again?, you thought as a bit of fear spiked on your back. You didn't remember which part of the town they were going to spend the day in, what if they were coming to this part of town?
If they caught sight of what you were doing right now, oh how what a storm you’d have to expect…
Thinking on that no further, you walked to a nearby alley and went behind the dumpster to finish the rest of the cigarette and go unseen by any bystanders. Yep, couldn’t have anyone seeing the state you were in right now. You let that thought pass through your head as you brought the cigarette away from your mouth to exhale.
You smoked for a bit longer, until the flame was getting dangerously close to your fingers. Unfortunately now was the time for the bit of rare fun to end, if it didn’t then your fingers would be burned off or something. What a buzzkill, you were thinking as you stood up to stomp on your cigarette before promptly sitting back down. Maybe you’d let the rest of the feeling pass through before getting back up again.
.
.
.
Those few minutes turned into a quarter of an hour and soon you forgot how long you were there when you decided to light up another cigarette that would probably turn into 3. A few footsteps passed through here and there and so did some surprisingly nice looking cars, you mindlessly glanced at these few objects as you breathed out a puff of smoke.
Oh a trash bag, there’s a dead rat, a half-eaten burger, ooh is that a pair of broken sandals?, you leisurely noted as you breathed out puffs of smoke.
Eventually you took note of some hurried footsteps from rather far away. Not to mention, the low rumbling of a car that seemed even farther. You didn't pay much attention to any of it, thinking of these little notes in your head as a fun pointless small game to think about later, that was..until both the car and the footsteps stopped just a couple of steps before the alleyway.
Murmured phrases from around 5 to 6 guys were being spewed that you could somewhat decipher from your position, easily telling you that whatever interaction they were having weren’t friendly, not that you were eavesdropping, well you were, but it’s not eavesdropping if they don’t know…
You still stayed behind the dumpster, whatever shit they were doing, you didn’t have any part in it. After all, what if the guy owed them money, you were sure that you’d do the same exact thing in order to get that dollar. Or maybe the guy was flirting with one of their girls, a guy back home named Thomas got into that situation once.
Putting out the cigarette against the brick wall, you continued to listen to what you could make out as if it was some bad soap opera playing on the home radio.
That thinking would quickly change as the guy who you presumed was getting cornered was being put in some sort of hold and the mention of a knife in the murmurs. Wait, a knife?!
Instantly you stood up and peered from the alley to view what was happening. Wow, wasn’t that a scene to behold, was all that was processing through your head as you quietly stared with widened eyes.
There were five of those ‘spoiled as a kid’ guys, Socs, you think they called em, and a greaser. One of them had a knife pointed towards the greaser and was spouting promises of cutting off his hair while the others were sinisterly giggling from behind like a bunch of wannabe mean girls.
Pieces were being brought together as realization hit you, oh, he’s getting fucking jumped.
That was enough convincing to get you to move from your ass.
Running over to the scene, you threw a right hook at the boy that was holding the knife, successfully toppling him over and disarming him as the knife flew from his hold. The others, including you, looked shocked, mouth agape and everything.
You’ve never gotten into a fight in your entire life before other than wrestling some pigs and a few rodeos from out of town, but they didn’t need to know that.
You threw another punch at one of the other guys and it was enough for everyone else to sober up. Quickly before anyone acted you took the knife from the ground and threw it the farthest you could away. It was far enough for it to be out of the equation in this fight. Good.
With that, adrenaline-filled confidence was starting to rise in you.
The greaser, getting the hint of the situation, broke out of the hold that he was originally in and began to throw punches towards the Socs as well. Your nose must’ve been bleeding when one of them clocked you in the face, but you returned it with a hard and solid knee to the gut.
You had no idea what you were doing, but it seemed to be working. All of those days working and doing physically laboring jobs for neighbors and parents day in and day out were finally coming through as the stinging sensations on your body were drinking into your confidence.
Glancing momentarily at the guy who you had rushed in to save, you noticed a few things. The kid seemed to be going good as well, now that you were actually glancing at him he seemed 16? 15? 14? But, he had a good build, and would probably be great for chopping wood and lugging around crates. You focused no more on him as you put your attention back onto the Socs.
Admittedly, despite holding up fairly well, your lack of experience was holding you down a bit. You were becoming nervous as you were sure that bruises would appear on your body the next day and the falter in your steps that came with each of their punches that were decorated with rings. Boy did those rings work as replacements for brass knuckles and they knew that.
As if your prayers were being heard, one of them, after painfully twisting their wrist in the wrong way, ran away. Each of their punches were getting sloppy, including yours as the next Soc seemed to follow suit by piling into the car instead. You could hear their shouts as the rest of them either ran away down the street or got back into the car.
The last one finally ran and hastily put the keys into the wheel and quickly drove away. With one big puff of gross smoke from the back, the car disappeared down the road, all while your eyes trailed it. Before you knew it, it felt like air was knocked out of your lungs as you heaved audibly. Twisting your head, you turned to look at the guy you just spent the last few minutes fighting for.
He also seemed to be relieved as he breathed loudly and slowly, however there were a whole lotta bruises that were just covering his face like Christmas decorations and there were probably more below the layers of his clothing, you wondered if it was the same for you too.
Any relief in that small moment of victory was short-lived as the greaser fell knee first on the concrete sidewalk and almost began to dry heave by the sounds of his choked coughs. Concern distorted your face as you ran to his side and began patting his back.
“Hey boy, you okay?” You asked as he slowly nodded his head. “What’s your name?”
“...Ponyboy”, he managed to shakingly say through his coughs and gags.
“Okay, uh, Ponyboy, I can take you to the hospital and they’ll fix ya up and-, and—”
“No- no-, it’s alright”
“Uh, um… I can walk ya home if you’d like instead? Maybe lead the way and you can patch yourself up there?”
“I…”
As you tried to listen to his words, you could hear footsteps from behind that you couldn’t care enough at the moment to check, too focused on the boy ahead of you. But, when the footsteps stopped right at you and Ponyboy’s position was when you bothered to look up.
Six people, six people who were staring at you and Ponyboy with eyes that were laced with concern, who were wearing something awfully similar to what Ponyboy was rocking.
So good chance they wouldn’t jump the both of you unlike the group before.
“Ponyboy?”, one of them voiced as they neared the two of you.
You looked back at Ponyboy and could see the look of familiarity he had in his eyes, oh, they know each other. Recognizing that, you stood up and took a step back, allowing for the other members of the group to start closing in around him.
“Darry?”
“Pony, what happened? Was it one of those Socs? Was it him?”, the man(who you presumed to be named Darry and to be around his 18s, 20s), hurriedly said as he pointed an arm towards you.
“No Darry, it was some of the Socs, they-, they pulled a car up to me when I was walkin’ and…”, he hesitated to finish putting in a rather big pause into his sentence.
“Ah, would you look at yourself Ponyboy, they really roughed you up”, another voice chimed in, kneeling beside Ponyboy as he placed a hand on his shoulder seemingly examining Pony’s face.
“Well, what were you doing walking around here lonesome, especially while the Socs are running rampant! You coulda gotten Soda or Johnny to walk with you! Just what were you thinking, Ponyboy!” Darry(?) said sternly, his concern switching over to well meaning anger. Like a mother hen, you half-heartedly thought.
As he scolded Ponyboy, you shifted uncomfortably in your position just a few steps away from the group. You could probably go now, right?
Loudly clearing your throat in order to get their attention, you skittishly said “I suppose I better get goin’ now, take care folks”. Fuck, why’d you say that? You could’ve just ran right there and then.
Avoiding their eyes, you could feel some of their gazes that were practically clawing at your head. You could guess what they were thinking, perhaps they were curious, about why you were there in that position with Ponyboy, what your involvement was, maybe they could get information out of you.
As casually as you could, you turned around and began to walk, one foot ahead of the other, soon enough that it turned into a sprinting, as you began darting down the sidewalk as if you were going to catch a stray chicken. Turns out that call happened to be right as a trail of footsteps were beginning to follow you before a voice, who you presumed to be Darry and Ponyboy, called them back.
Wouldn’t this be a story to tell when you go to buy weed again.