“I can’t believe you have to work on New Year’s Eve.” Ponyboy mumbles.
You give him a quick kiss on the cheek as you head towards the door. “I know, but I’ll be paid extra for working tonight.”
“Waiting tables?” He snorts.
You roll your eyes. “Well it is a holiday.” Not knowing what else to say about your profession, you add, “Lots of people go out tonight.”
“Can I visit you to get a New Year’s kiss?” He asks as you turn the doorknob to the front door.
You stop. You didn’t want him coming to see where you worked. “No,” you say quietly.
“Why not?”
“Just… No.” You say, and leave.
******************
The bass pounded, the colored lights flashed.
You glance at the clock. Only 11:50. Another couple hours in this whore house.
Stripping wasn’t how you’d picture your future to be. It sorta just happened. You were desperate for money, and you apparently had the sex appeal for it.
You take a look in the bathroom mirror, your hair all curly, and your wearing this black leather and fishnet ensemble.
“You look so slutty.” You think to yourself.
What would Ponyboy think?
He’d be so disappointed in you.
And you just want to break down and cry, knowing how upset he’d be.
You fight back tears, not wanting to ruin your eyeliner and mascara.
You quickly compose yourself, you were on in 5.
You walk backstage in a daze, not really concentrating, ready just to be another pretty face and body for men to stare at.
The lights go dark on the stage, your cue to take your place at your pole, the one on the stage right.
The music starts, and the lights go up. You feel the beat, starting to slide down the pole.
As you turn around, kicking up your leg, you see him.
You see him, standing at the entrance, the look on his face killing you.
You instantly let go of the pole, stand up, and look at him, eyes starting to water.
“Bitch, get back to dancing!” Some drunk yells at you, but you ignore him, biting your lip to keep from sobbing.
You see him mouth something. At first you can’t make it out, but then you realize he’s saying: “I’m sorry.”
You shake your head, letting him know it’s not his fault.
He starts walking towards you, making his way through the crowd of men.
You hop off the stage, making your way towards him, as fast as your high heeled boots would carry you.
You run into his arms, which immediately wrap around you, pulling you close. “I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
You can’t help it now, the tears start to flow.
He pulls away, holding your face in your hands, trying to hold back tears himself. “You’re going to quit, alright? I’ll support you, I swear. We’ll find you a real job, and everything will be fine. I promise.”
All you can do is cry and nod, make up running down your face.
“5, 4, 3, 2-” the crowd counts down to signal the new year.
And his lips crash into yours.
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The club roars.
“This year will be different.” You sniffle.
You give him a quick kiss on the cheek as you head towards the door. “I know, but I’ll be paid extra for working tonight.”
“Waiting tables?” He snorts.
You roll your eyes. “Well it is a holiday.” Not knowing what else to say about your profession, you add, “Lots of people go out tonight.”
“Can I visit you to get a New Year’s kiss?” He asks as you turn the doorknob to the front door.
You stop. You didn’t want him coming to see where you worked. “No,” you say quietly.
“Why not?”
“Just… No.” You say, and leave.
******************
The bass pounded, the colored lights flashed.
You glance at the clock. Only 11:50. Another couple hours in this whore house.
Stripping wasn’t how you’d picture your future to be. It sorta just happened. You were desperate for money, and you apparently had the sex appeal for it.
You take a look in the bathroom mirror, your hair all curly, and your wearing this black leather and fishnet ensemble.
“You look so slutty.” You think to yourself.
What would Ponyboy think?
He’d be so disappointed in you.
And you just want to break down and cry, knowing how upset he’d be.
You fight back tears, not wanting to ruin your eyeliner and mascara.
You quickly compose yourself, you were on in 5.
You walk backstage in a daze, not really concentrating, ready just to be another pretty face and body for men to stare at.
The lights go dark on the stage, your cue to take your place at your pole, the one on the stage right.
The music starts, and the lights go up. You feel the beat, starting to slide down the pole.
As you turn around, kicking up your leg, you see him.
You see him, standing at the entrance, the look on his face killing you.
You instantly let go of the pole, stand up, and look at him, eyes starting to water.
“Bitch, get back to dancing!” Some drunk yells at you, but you ignore him, biting your lip to keep from sobbing.
You see him mouth something. At first you can’t make it out, but then you realize he’s saying: “I’m sorry.”
You shake your head, letting him know it’s not his fault.
He starts walking towards you, making his way through the crowd of men.
You hop off the stage, making your way towards him, as fast as your high heeled boots would carry you.
You run into his arms, which immediately wrap around you, pulling you close. “I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
You can’t help it now, the tears start to flow.
He pulls away, holding your face in your hands, trying to hold back tears himself. “You’re going to quit, alright? I’ll support you, I swear. We’ll find you a real job, and everything will be fine. I promise.”
All you can do is cry and nod, make up running down your face.
“5, 4, 3, 2-” the crowd counts down to signal the new year.
And his lips crash into yours.
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The club roars.
“This year will be different.” You sniffle.
You look in amazement at your boyfriend Ponyboy. Is he really friends with this geek?
Ponyboy smiles and nods, telling you “I know this kid is a frickin insane genius.”
“Well… That’s interesting.” You say.
You look at Ponyboy. “So how much do we have to leave for a tip?” You were at the diner, hanging out for lunch.
“She was a quality waitress, so 20%. We each owe her 1 dollar.” Ross pipes up. He starts to make hand gestures to explain the process.”Since the bill was 15 dollars, we each paid 5 dollars. 20% of 15 is 3… So it’d be a 3 dollar tip, one dollar each.”
You look at him, stunned.
You could not to do math to save your life.
“You should have him along more often.” You whisper to Ponyboy.
You woke up of he teacher yelling at you. "Y/N wake up right now" she said. You woke up and looked up. Everyone was looking at you , including Ponyboy. "Sorry" you said and opened your book to the page she told you. After ten minutes of listening the bell rang. You closed your book and walked out of the class. You walked to your last class. You loved that class cause most your friends were in it. You only had like four friends but it was still fun. You and your friends always sat by each other in the back. You would always get into trouble. The four of you started to laugh. One if your friends threw something at a kids head. "Ladies in the back stop laughing" the teacher said. You stopped for awhile. You other friend would ask stupid questions to make you guys laugh. You were laughing so hard. "Y/N please go to Mrs. Landers room" the teacher said. "Okay" you said you grabbed your stuff and walked out. You walked into Mrs. landers room to see Ponyboy was in there.
"I can't believe you guys are drunk again!" You yelled as you ran out. You're parents were drunk again, you couldn't stand it when they were, or when anyone was because you were scared bad things might happen when people are drunk. You ran as fast as you could until you reached the DX, Steve was standing outside leaning on a car. "Hey Savannah, what happened?" "My parents were drunk again, I can't stand it when they are, I'm just so scared when that happens." "Hey, don't worry, I'll protect you." Steve hugged you and you found your arms around his neck. You guys embraced each other with the glimmering moon light it the background. "Savannah, I'll show you how to fix up cars." He held your hand and brought you to the back of the DX.
“Do you like plants?”
“Ummm… Sure?” You answer your boyfriend Two-Bit.
“That’s not a good answer.”
“Ok I don’t like plants?”
“Wrong answer.”
“I like plants?”
“Good.”
“Why?”
“Because I got you one.” He looks up towards the ceiling.
“Oh…” You say, it finally clicking. “I like this plant.”
“Good.” He grins as he kisses you.
