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Post by Tensleep on Jan 31, 2009 21:05:13 GMT -5
I am posting this a little early because I have no idea what the first will be like for me - I plan to sleep until the second So an early jump start for a short month!Rumble, February '09: The Hometown GirlsIn the book, most of the gang had girls. Sylvia, Cathy, Evie and even Sandy were the leading ladies in their lives. But stories about the original girls seem few and far between when it comes to all the OFCs that have made their way into the fandom. So this month, write something about one of the original Greaser girls from the novel, either from their point of view or about them. Anything to shed some light on the fact that S.E. Hinton had girls for our boys and they were just as unique as all these OFCs. 6 pages max, any POV. Please copy, paste and post your entries under this thread so we can all enjoy them! I know there are some awesome imaginations on this forum. So get writing! Tens
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Two-Bitty
Teeny Bopper
"I've no interest in living for a thousand years. It's enough if I can live through today."
Posts: 109
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Post by Two-Bitty on Feb 2, 2009 0:24:43 GMT -5
Oh no... The one thing I can't write and it's a rumble! What a challenge! Oh boy. I really want to do this, but I don't know if I can...
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dramaholic74
New In Town
"I'm sorry I didn't know you had this problem with...yelling in my face."
Posts: 13
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Post by dramaholic74 on Feb 2, 2009 18:35:49 GMT -5
Darn it...........this is going to be hard! Oh well......I'll try it anyway....
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Post by whatcoloristhesky on Feb 2, 2009 19:40:39 GMT -5
*strokes chin* I'm thinking.... Evie. Yeah? Yeah. I already have a Sandy fic out.
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Post by samaryley on Feb 3, 2009 22:17:05 GMT -5
I'm going all in for Marcia. Hang on people!
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Post by Tensleep on Feb 4, 2009 17:05:13 GMT -5
Well, looks like this month is going to be a challenge. And believe me, I am right there with you all. Good luck!
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Post by murderofcrows on Feb 8, 2009 21:00:42 GMT -5
aw, and i already wrote "witchy woman"
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Two-Bitty
Teeny Bopper
"I've no interest in living for a thousand years. It's enough if I can live through today."
Posts: 109
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Post by Two-Bitty on Feb 8, 2009 21:13:48 GMT -5
Broken
I stood with my arms crossed over my breasts in the back of the room; my shirt was low-cut, which showed a lot, and white, while my pants were tight as skin and black. The jacket I had worn on the way over, also black like my pants, was laying on the floor in front of my feet. My brown hair was tied up in a ponytail high on the back of my head. I focused my eyes forward at the front of the room, scowling. I didn’t want to be here; Darrel had called me up telling me to come. And after what seemed like hours of arguing, he had gotten me to agree.
So now I stood at the back of the church service that Dallas’ dead-beat dad had to pay for. The drunk wasn’t even there to mourn or anything. But at least Dally had gotten a few thousand out of his father for the funeral. Too bad the cheap, bitter old man got a wooden casket instead of a fancy one. Oh well.
There was only one side of the pews with people sitting in them. They were members of his gang, Darrel, Ponyboy, Sodapop, Steve, and Two-Bit, Tim Shepard and CO., plus the other Shepard kids, Angela and Curly. Angela was at the back standing beside me, not wanting to be there just like me. She was dressed in a outfit more suited for this type of occasion; head to toe in black, nothing too revealing. She was a little more proper than I was. Though her face was painted in make-up, like war paint.
Johnny Cade’s funeral was the other day; Tim made me go to that one too. It was the same old thing, different day, different person. I never spoke to the kid too much, unless he was around Dally when I was. He was a quiet kid and when I found out that he had killed a Soc, I sort of stopped in awe and yelling in triumph at the same time. I knew he was a good kid; just too quiet for me.
Suddenly Sodapop got up and walked down the aisle, hand partly over his eyebrows and eyes, trying to hide what I assumed were tears. Sodapop was a cute kid; I had made a pass at him once or twice, but he shot me down for Sandy, who ended up breaking his pool little heart. He had always been more emotional than his older brother, or Two-Bit and Steve for that matter, who never cry. He passed me, glancing at Angela and me, and walked past. Angela looked hurt after seeing his expression.
The preacher finished up, and the boys in the pews all stood and crowded around the wooden casket. Darrel was first, reaching in and patting him; probably smoothing down his hair or something. Then it was Steve, who only gave a glance. Two-Bit looked in, then bit his lip and closed his eyes shut. Steve led him away. Ponyboy mimicked what Steve had did and quickly went beside Darrel. Tim walked up, looked in, and started to laugh, moving his lips, saying something smart at the body, probably. The rest of Tim’s gang, who had showed, went by fast. Curly gave a glance, then just walked off, hands in his pockets. Angela patted my shoulder and gave it a shove, telling me to go up. I reached down and grabbed my jacket.
Slowly I walked up the aisle, glancing at the boys who had spread back through the pews. Most were eyeing me, some disgusted at my attire, others eating up the site. I came upon the casket behind Angela. She leaned in and kissed Dallas’ forehead, then moved off to the side. I looked in the casket.
Dallas looked to be sleeping, wearing his best clothes (a white, barely stained t-shirt, and a pair of dark jeans) he owned. His white-blond hair was pushed back and his face was at peace. The sight of him made me grin. I pressed my hand on his cheek, feeling the lack of body heat. For a moment I just laid it there, staring at him. Then I leaned down, pressing my lips onto his cheek, leaving a faint pair of red lips on his pale skin. When I drew back, I saw my tears on his cheek. I hadn’t noticed I begun to cry, but now I felt them rolling down in floods. I turned, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip like Two-Bit, and approached Darrel.
The older man looked down at me. “Thank you for coming, Sylvia.”
I shrugged, trying to hold the rest of my tears. “I didn’t want to argue anymore with you, so I agreed to shut you up.”
He smiled, nodding. I found myself being wrapped into his arms, which almost engulfed me, and found myself hugging him back. We broke, smiling at one another. I looked at Steve, who cocked his head to the side and falsely grinned. I patted his cheek. Two-Bit was next in line, his eyes welling with tears like mine. I laughed at him, who also began to laugh. We briefly embraced, and he whispered an, “I’m sorry,” into my ear. Two-Bit was always a fun kid, and seeing this side of him was different. I pressed my lips to his cheek, beside his mouth. My eyes found Ponyboy standing by Darrel; I reached over and patted his head. He groaned, then smiled.
Sodapop found his way back into the mess; I patted his cheek like I had done Steve, and he began to cry again.
The preacher said another something, then closed Dallas in the wooden box. One corner of my mouth turned up in dissatisfaction.
Tim Shepard walked over to us, looked down at me with piercing eyes, frowning. He wrapped one arm over my shoulders, pulling me close. I leaned into him; he reminded me of Dallas. He kissed my forehead, like a father would do to a child, and removed his arm. He said nothing and turned back to his gang. My brow rose parallel to the corner of my mouth.
I turned back to the casket, where the stronger men, including Darrel, Steve, and Tim, began carrying it away. Frowning, I whispered to myself, “Goodbye, Dallas.”
It was a little hard to figure out how to write this. I mentioned Sylvia with brown hair; I didn't know what color it was, so I used a common color. And I pictured her as an in-your-face kind of girl, hence the outfit. Hope I got her right.
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Post by Nittanylizard on Feb 9, 2009 8:49:09 GMT -5
I thought you did a nice job with Sylvia. Her attitude and personality came through really well in her actions and thoughts, rather than as a list of descriptions, which is always good, hahah.
I saw one typo - ". . . but he shot me down for Sandy, who ended up breaking his pool little heart."
Also, at the beginning, you have her mentioning that Dallas's dad spent a few thousand dollars for the funeral. These days a very basic funeral (if you don't order extras like flowers, limos, and mass cards) averages $6,000. So in the 60's, a few thousand for a funeral would be quite a bit.
I also didn't get why he would have "had" to pay for a church service. If it wasn't something he wanted to shell out money for, he could just as easily have gone as cheap as possible - pay for the casket, and just have a graveside service. Maybe some indication of why he might have gone with a service (also, check whether he would have had to pay for a church service rather than just give whatever donation he could afford) would add another dimension. For example, does he feel guilty? Or did he get money from another relative to use toward a funeral? If so, did he feel bitter about that and decide not to go?
Again, I really liked your view of Sylvia. It took me a couple of paragraphs to realize who it was about. I thought it was interesting about Darry convincing her to come, like maybe he knew her a little better for some reason. It gives the feel that there's some backstory there.
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Post by whatcoloristhesky on Feb 13, 2009 5:35:31 GMT -5
No title as of yet, but here we go. Evie. (Corresponds with any of my fics, BTW.)
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“I… need a drink,” Patty slurred as she stumbled out of the house, and giggled as she tripped. “Wow, I’m clumsy.”
Evie let out a frustrated breath and flipped her hair over her shoulder. It was starting to get longer and the perm she once had was long since faded out. For a moment she was reminded of her ex-best friend—the lying whore—and it made her scowl. Sandy was the only one she trusted with her hair, but no, she just had to get sent away to Florida.
Most days she didn’t think about it. Most days she didn’t think about how Sandy had lied to them all. If Sandy could have or should have told anyone… it should have been Evie, shouldn’t it have been? They could have straightened it out together, just like they always had. But instead the whore blamed her—Evie of all people, and for an act like that! If there was one thing in the world that Evie was proud of, it was the fact that Steve was her first and her only, despite the rumors that had flown around the high school.
“Evie?” Patty giggled, leaning against a boy. “I met someone…”
“No shit, Patty.” Evie rolled her eyes. This Patty chick could be fun to gossip with, but she ruined most parties Evie ended up at with her. The poor girl was a lightweight and was constantly finding a new boy to hang on. Normally Evie wouldn’t have minded, but Steve being away at war was really starting to take its affect on her. She didn’t even have Sodapop to hang around with anymore—he was gone too. At least while he had still been around she could use him for a date when there was nothing better to do.
What could she say? She missed the guy—ever since that one night in the cemetery when they talked about their parents they’d been relatively close. And when Sandy left, they became closer. Of course, it was only a friend thing between them and they’d only hung out one-on-one after Steve left, but still… she missed him. Steve though… Steve was the one she really missed. She missed being held and kissed. She missed the quiet murmurings in her ears when Steve tried to make unbuttoning her blouse more romantic. She missed the way he smelled, and the way his brow furrowed when he concentrated on rebuilding an engine. She missed the way he made her feel. She missed having her boyfriend around.
An arm snaked around her shoulder and Evie immediately shrugged it off. “Watch it, buddy; I’ve got a boyfriend.”
Patty giggled… again. “Oh, Evie… you’re so silly. Steve…”—hiccup—“Steve’s halfway ‘round the w-world. You ain’t got nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.”
“Besides,” added the boy on Patty’s arm, “you were hangin’ ‘round with Curtis for the longest time.”
Evie scowled. “You actually think somethin’ happened between me and ol’ Prince Charmin’? Hah! You’re funny.”
“That’s why I like him so much!” Patty interrupted drunkenly, stumbling over an imaginary stick. “Hey, hey… hey Evie, are you gonna to come to the bar with us? Bobby said he could get us free drinks ‘cause his daddy’s the owner. Didn’t ya, Bobby.”
Bobby nodded and held onto Patty tight, making it so she wouldn’t fall.
Evie rolled her eyes and fell into step with the two of them. “Will it make me forget the two of you?” she muttered, knowing they wouldn’t hear her. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing for her to do—go to a shady bar on the roughest side of town with a drunk girl that she couldn’t stand and some loser of a boy who’s name she barely knew. She did it anyway. If Steve could be halfway across the world shooting down gooks, barely taking the time to write to her, she could do something stupid. She was tired of waiting for letters that didn’t mean anything.
They had to have been walking for about twenty minutes before Evie finally spoke up. “You do know where we’re going, right?” she snapped.
Bobby shot her a look. “’Course I do. It’s just down this alley.”
“Well, don’t your daddy just know the greatest places to hold a business…” she muttered angrily, hesitating at the mouth of it. What if her brothers ever found out about this? She’d be skinned alive even at the age of nineteen. Her brothers would not be happy to find their little sister going into a sketchy little bar with a boy she didn’t know. They wouldn’t be happy to find her going into a sketchy little bar with a boy she did know.
Patty let out a giggle. That was getting on Evie’s nerves. Twenty minutes of drunken stumbling, “accidental” flashing, and a whole hell of a lot of giggling made Evie never want to hang out with Patty again. She was done after tonight.
“Hey Evie,” Patty called, her voice high and giggly, “you comin’?”
Evie lifted her chin. If her brothers had taught her anything about shady places it was to act like you knew what you were doing—walk with confidence.
“Yeah,” she called back, “I’m comin’… I’m comin’.” Evie walked into the alley over to where the two of them were and followed them inside. The place wasn’t as shady as Evie thought it was. The only person she saw that was older than thirty was the bartender handing out drinks, and she assumed that he was Bobby’s old man. Everyone else was in their twenties, hanging around. They didn’t look like the wealthiest of people but that was okay because Evie wasn’t the wealthiest girl either.
“Bobby…” Patty cooed from somewhere to Evie’s right. “Will you teach me how to play pool?”
Evie rolled her eyes again. That’s right, Patty, she thought, give him an excuse to feel you up.
“All right, baby,” came Bobby’s reply.
Evie rolled her eyes again and walked over to the bar, sitting down on a stool. Everyone else seemed to be playing pool, making out in a dark corner, or be mingling at a table. That was just fine with Evie—she was alone most of the time anyway now that both Steve and Sodapop were gone, Sandy was a whore, and all her other girl friends had boyfriends to hangout with on Friday nights. Sure, Evie had a boyfriend, but she didn’t physically have him and that bugged her something awful… especially tonight. God, she needed a drink.
“What’ll ya have, Miss?”
Evie looked up at the bartender. He was middle-aged, that was for sure, and skinnier than she would have expected. “Rum and coke, please.” She slapped some money on the counter and looked him in the eye. That’s what Eddie had told her to do when she wanted a drink and didn’t want to mooch off someone with an I.D.
He smiled, and set about making the drink, setting it down in front of her when he was done. “Thanks,” she mumbled and drank half of it.
God, she wondered, what am I dong with my life? Drinking alone in a shady bar in the part of town she never went—what the hell was she thinking? “Steve’ll have a field day when he finds out about this…” she muttered to herself.
“Talking to yourself at a bar is never a good sign.” A handsome young man—not much older than herself—suddenly occupied the stool next to her.
She stared at him long and hard, willing him to just go away. He didn’t. He just cracked a smile and ordered a beer. Evie turned back to her own drink. Soda was going to flip when she told him about this! First she’s talking to herself and then a stranger hears her! Oh, it was going to be a good laugh between the two of them. She smirked, imagining the response she’d get from the guy and absently twirled the ring that hung from the chain around her neck.
“Who’s the lucky guy?”
Evie turned to face the guy next to her. “What?”
He took a swig of beer and motioned to the ring she was fiddling with. “The ring—you got a guy or what?”
The world seemed to stop for a moment. She hadn’t thought about telling Steve at all… “Uh, yeah.”
He swallowed another mouthful of beer and smiled. “You don’t sound so sure ‘bout that. Trouble in paradise?”
Evie shot him a look and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I don’t even know you,” she snapped and downed the rest of her drink.
He stuck out his hand. “My name is James.”
Evie took his hand, and shook it, unsure about the feeling it gave her. Was that an omen, or was it butterflies? “Evie,” she replied and felt herself smile for the first time that night.
“So where’s your guy if you got one? It’s a little late for a lady to be walkin’ around these parts without a date, don’tcha think?”
“I can handle myself, thank you very much.”
James leaned in and whispered, “Still doesn’t answer my question, thank you very much.”
“He’s in ‘Nam. Happy now?”
“I had a brother go over there last year…”
“Yeah? I’ve got one of my brothers and a friend over there too. Where’s he stationed?”
James took a swig of his beer and looked straight ahead. “Dead in a box, six feet under the Earth, that’s where.”
Evie felt the blood drain from her face and motioned for the bartender. “Another rum and coke, please.”
James scratched the back of his head, watching the bartender make her drink for her. He slid the money for it on the counter. “Look, Evie… I’m sorry. You got a guy over there, and family…”
Evie shook her head. “Steve doesn’t sugarcoat it for me, you know. I know what happens.” She felt tears prick at the back of her eyes and took a long drink. He used to write her about how much he loved her. He used to write to her about silly things, stupid things…
“Who’s Steve?”
“My…” she started, but stopped and looked down at the ring. It taunted her. He barely writes you, it said, and when he does it ain’t like it used to be.
What were they nowadays, anyway? She poured her heart out to him in her letters, but for months now, all she’d been getting were updates on what he was doing. She wanted to know he was safe, not how many people he had killed.
“Your…?” James prompted.
Evie pulled the ring, breaking the chain. “My ex-boyfriend,” she whispered.
The words were echoing in her mind… and when she got home later that night, she knew exactly what to write in her next letter. It wasn’t completely true, but she was going to make sure it came true. She had, after all, given James her number.
Dear Steve, I hate doing this in a letter, but…
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Post by Nittanylizard on Feb 13, 2009 8:43:46 GMT -5
Wow, I thought that was awesome! You can see that she's still hurt by Sandy not being honest with her, even as she seems to be trying to make herself believe she's over it. I loved how you described everything, especially the shady bar - I could see it all. Really nice job, and the ending - wow. I love hard-hitting endings . Liz
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Post by Tensleep on Mar 1, 2009 2:29:45 GMT -5
I am sooo far behind on these! Forgive me, School sucks.
Two-Bitty: I think it is an interesting take on how Dallas' funeral could have gone. Sylvia seems like the character to deliver it, too. I'm not sure how I feel about the expressions you have written in - something about smiling at a funeral just doesn't fit. Aside from that, great job!
whatcoloristhesky: I absolutely LOVE your version of Evie. Tough, smart, devoted, and realistic. She really fits what I have always thought of her. I liked how this one progressed into that final Dear John letter. You can tell they're both changed people, even though Steve isn't even in this one. A lot of hurt feelings over the war - it just fits. Poor Steve, but still poor Evie. Great job!
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