The next morning, I was woken up by Darry.

"Time to get up. School starts in an hour and a half."

I made noises of protest, but Darry wouldn't listen. I complained as I got up and started to get ready. After folding up my blanket, I stuck it and the pillow back in the closet where it belonged. Darry made breakfast while the rest of us stumbled around.

Once we were all ready for school and had eaten and brushed our teeth and the guys had greased back their hair, Darry herded us into his truck. Somehow we all managed to fit inside. Darry stopped by my place so I could get my school bag and make sure the little kids were up and around. The bus came by our house, so I didn't worry about how they were getting to school. After making sure they were ready to go and that they were waiting on the front porch, I ran back to Darry's truck and hopped in, squeezing in next to Ponyboy.

Darry dropped us all off and then he went off to work.

"See ya, Ponyboy," I said, waving to him. He waved back and we parted ways. Sodapop and I went to math, the only class we had together. Coincidentally, our desks were right next to each other. In front of Soda was his girlfriend, Sandy, whom I was barely friends with.

We hadn't been too sure of each other when they first got together, but when I found that she was actually really good to Sodapop and she realized I was nothing more to him than basically a sister, we decided to give each other a chance. He was always nervous about me with  Sandy because, for the longest time, I was the gang's only girl. When Sylvia— Dally's girl— came into the picture, it wasn't pretty.

I'd even gone on double or triple dates a few times. Steve, Soda's best friend, and his girl, Soda and Sandy, and me and this guy named Ryan would occasionally meet up and go to the drag races or just go to the Dingo sometimes. Ryan was cool. He wasn't totally greaser like the rest of us, but he definitely wasn't a soc either. Although, he did own a cherry red '59 Monte Carlo that he had saved every bit of his allowance and paychecks to buy. He took me riding in it frequently and it was the most gorgeous car I'd ever gotten the privilege to ride in. It was pretty tuff and it made me feel real tuff, too.

Ryan and I had our fair share of makeout sessions and other kinds of sessions if you dig, but I didn't know if we were even dating. We were more into hooking up, but he was a lot more respectful about it. He didn't think he was ready for a full time relationship and I just knew I couldn't be committed to school and working and taking care of two kids and balancing a relationship on top of that, so we kept it cool. We were friends and we were respectful of each other and in times when we weren't up for sex or making out, we'd just kick it and watch a movie or something.

x

Math class was the only class I actually felt smart in. I loved math and I was real good at it. The teacher never had to tell me anything twice and, most of the time, I was ahead of everyone else. I helped Sodapop a lot on his work, just because I was so good at it. There were a lot of socy kids in that class that gave me a lot of crap, but I just ignored them and went about my business. I knew a few of them weren't even passing because of all the hell they'd cause during class and then they'd come in the next day and act like they didn't even know we had homework.

I got along real well with my teacher, too. A lot of times I'd go in and I'd have bruises and a black eye. She always noticed and always told me that I could go to her if I needed anything. She never did that to any of the socs or other greasers when they got into fights, but I guess she knew this was different. This wasn't me getting beat on for flirting with another girl's boyfriend or stealing stuff or what have you. This was over nothing and for no apparent reason other than my mother was an abusive drunk. She didn't know a lot about my mom, other than she'd seen my mother on multiple occasions starting fights with other women at bars and stuff.

My math teacher reminded me a lot about Mrs. Curtis, but I guess I was the only one because Sodapop didn't think so.

After math, I had English, which I really struggled in. It was hard to try and follow The Great Gatsby when I couldn't even read. Yep. Sixteen years old and I couldn't read. I mean, I could read, but basically at a third grade level. No one ever really taught me big words or how to sound stuff out. I could read what most people can read, but as far as what reading level you should be on at sixteen, I was nowhere near it.

"'The w-hole--'"

"It's whole, Candice," the teacher said. "The 'w' is silent."

That's so stupid, I thought. Why not just spell it 'hole' like it sounds?

"'The whole town is...is des-oh-late--'"

"Desolate."

"The whole town is desolate. All the cars have left the rear w-heel--'"

"Wheel. The 'h' is silent in this one."

"...'the rear wheel p-pay-nt-- painted black as a mo-mo-mo...'"

"Mourning. It's said like 'morning', Candice."

I was getting frustrated now. He knew I couldn't read and he still called on me to do so. And it was always the sentences with words that don't make sense! What a crock of bull.

"Can I go to the bathroom?" I asked.

"No, you need to sit here and finish reading this paragraph."

"I can't," I mumbled, followed by a few giggles from some of the socy girls. I looked over at them and glared something fierce. They just laughed some more.

"Yes you can. Continue."

I took a big sigh and started again. "'...mourning w-wreath?" The teacher nodded and I kept going. "...and there's a p-persistent wail? all along the North shore.'"

I didn't like The Great Gatsby.

After English, I decided to cut. I didn't like being made out to be stupid. I really wasn't that dumb, but a lot of dumb folk are illiterate, I guess, and I just happened to be the queen of illiteracy in Tulsa.

It was lucky I ditched when I did because Ryan just so happened to be ditching then, too. He asked if I wanted to get out and I said yeah I did and he opened the passenger door to his Monte and let me in. He got in himself and started up his car and we were off to his place.

When we walked in, it was quiet. His sister Charlotte had left the year before because she was getting married, so it was just him and his dad, who was a pretty tuff guy. He worked on cars a lot and knew them in all kinds of ways. Still, no one knew cars better than Steve Randle.

"Your dad gone?" I asked.

"Yeah, he went to the drag races today, so he'll be gone 'til late."

I nodded. We went to his room where we started off like usual. I sat down on his bed while he closed and locked the door. When he came over, he moved me so I was laying down. Ryan kissed me gently. He was always gentle. He didn't touch me first, he always kissed me to make sure. He moved his hand toward the bottom of my sweater and then stopped.

"You're hesitant," he said, stopping his kissing and looking at me. "What's wrong?"

"It's really nothing," I said. I'd never told him I couldn't read. Hell, I'd never even told Soda.

"O-okay," he said and started again. He stopped real quick. "Candice, I can't do this."

"Why?" I asked, wondering what I'd done wrong.

"You're obviously not into it. Something's bothering you." I turned my head, frowning at the wall. He moved my head back so I could look at him. "Is it me?"

"What? No, not at all."

"Then what is it?" he asked. "Please tell me."

I sighed. "You're gonna laugh. I haven't really told anyone. Not even Sodapop."

"What? What is it?" He looked genuinely shocked, like maybe I'd killed a man or something. I told Sodapop everything.

"I'm having a rough time in English...because I can't read."

He chuckled. I guessed he thought I was joking. "No, seriously what is it?"

"That's it," I said and when I wasn't grinning or laughing or saying, "ha, got ya!" he stopped and just stared.

"Are you really serious?"

I nodded, feeling incredibly lousy about myself. "Aw, jeez, Candice." He smiled at me. "Not everyone's good at everything. Hell, I'm lucky if I can count to ten. We're all a little dumb when it comes to something. Don't mean we're entirely dumb."

"Yeah, but it doesn't make you feel too hot when the teacher calls on you to read aloud when you can't pronounce half the crap in the book. It was two sentences I had to read and it took me twenty minutes to do it." That was definitely an exaggeration, but it felt like twenty minutes to me.

"Yeah, I guess you're right about that. But hey, it's not a huge deal. If you want, I'm pretty good at reading. I can help you out."

"Really?" I said and he smiled and nodded. "That'd be great."

He leaned down and kissed me. "So you good?" he asked and I smiled and nodded.

We spent the rest of the day together, up until I had to go to work. He dropped me off at my place and I quickly got dressed in my work clothes and, after making sure Greg and Claire had their after school snack and were starting on their homework, I headed on out. Work was dull. There was an old lady who comes in every Thursday for an Italian loaf and she always gives me the brightest smile. Other than that, not much went on. I loved my job, though, and I got along real well with my coworkers, Amy and Brad Hughes, who were married and were the managers of the bakery.

When my shift ended, I helped clean up the kitchen and make sure everything was sealed and put away. I hung up my apron and threw out my hair net and gloves and was on my way back home.

I was getting closer to the lot when I spotted a kid my age with black hair and his shoulders slumped. I grinned and jogged to catch up.

"Hey, Johnny," I greeted with a smile and he turned to me, smiling back.

"Hey, Candy."

"How goes it?"

"Oh, you know. Same old."

I frowned. 'Same old' was his old man beating on him and his mom hollering at him. I had it basically the same way, but it seemed to be worse with Johnny just because he just seemed a lot more, I don't know, innocent?

"You up for a smoke?"

"Of course," he said. We headed toward the lot together.

We were about a block away when I noticed the car trailing behind us.

"The hell is their problem?" I said, trying not to turn back around to look at them. That'd just draw attention.

"Just ignore them," he said. We kept walking, although, and I hate to admit it, I was getting scared. My teeth were chattering and I knew it wasn't because of the cold.

"Hey, grease!" a voice shouted at us. I rolled my eyes, but remembered what Johnny had said and ignored them.

"Whassa matter, not gonna say nothin'?" They howled with laughter and I couldn't take it.

"Hey, come on, man!" I shouted at them. "Go somewhere else. We ain't bothering you!"

"But you're a bother to us!" There was another loud chorus of laughter that erupted from the car and I wondered just how many there were in there. Had to be at least four.

"Get the hell on outta here," I said.

"Candy—" Johnny warned.

The car stopped and I immediately regretted opening my fat mouth. The socs trickled out of their car like gasoline spilling out of a can. This was going to be the start to a fire.

"Come on, honey. We'd like to take you on a trip," said one. I saw a glinting caused by the street light and turned to see what it was. His entire hand, and I mean every finger, had at least one ring on it. Shit.

"Just go," I said. "We're just walking home. This is our turf, man. We didn't cause no scene with you. What gives you the right to cause a scene with us?"

"You're small, unprotected. Don't see any of your bigger gang around, do I? Do you boys?"

"Exactly," I said. "Ain't fair to us if you're ganging up on us all willy nilly."

"Well, we don't like to play by the rules," he said, advancing toward Johnny and me.

"Johnny, run," I said. I took off in a dead sprint, Johnny right behind me. He had longer legs, so he was able to get a boost. Suddenly, I was tackled to the ground.

I screamed as loud as I could, punching and kicking at whoever had pinned me down. I may be little, but I can pack a pretty good punch if I need to.

"Run, Johnny!" I shouted.

"No, Can—" He was down in an instant, too. Whoever had grabbed hold of him hadn't grabbed hold tight enough because he was able to wriggle himself free, losing his jacket in the process.

I don't remember much after that, just that I was being punched and kicked and anything else. I fought back as hard and as long as I could until someone's foot came into collision with the side of my head, knocking me goofy. I saw big black spots across my vision for awhile before I lost consciousness entirely.