𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢-𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

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Each phase of living has forms of arrival and leaving

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Each phase of living has forms of arrival and leaving. Virginia wished she was lucky enough for these phases to remain in the realm of the symbolic, then she could stay with those she loved and build a secure life that felt safe and dependable. For her, however, as fate would have it, these things were literal. There are times she literally awaits people to leave. There was that moment though, a moment of clear understanding and reassurance: they would always come back.

Saturday.

The air was warm. Her shoulders, exposed by the thin straps holding up her dress prickled. She stood in front of her mirror, her fingers running down the etches she made in it on a creative whim.

I could look worse, she thought, sighing at her reflection. Her hair still felt glued together from the copious amounts of hairspray Cherry and Evie drowned her locks in. Prom was as fanciful as she imagined it. Stony and horrendously traditional but just fine with Sam at her side.

She donned that dress again at his request, ever curious of his plans. He should've been at home, packing, kissing his mother goodnight one more time before he leaves. Her teeth chewed at her reddened lips nervously. Is he going to propose? Is she going to be a future Mrs. Gardner? Is everything really going to change within twelve hours?

Everything is going to change, she answered silently. Her reflection stared back at her, and for a second, she couldn't recognize who that girl was. That was her mother, more like it. Virginia wondered how scared her mother was before she got married. She knew the tale by heart, believing her parents' love story to be superior than poor Romeo and Juliet's. They had defied all the odds, building the kind of life they wanted together. Together. They weren't alone and she wouldn't be either.

The reassurance alone gave her the courage to walk down the stairs. Her eyes landed on Darry, then Sodapop, and finally Ponyboy, all seated quietly. Darry had that relaxed contentness he wore when he first saw her in that dress the night before. Ponyboy's eyes were slightly glassy, he was going to miss Sam. Sodapop's smile shone like the sun.

"Y'all don't have to be here," she chuckled quietly, feeling her throat clench up.

"We wanna see him off 'fore tomorrow. Darry 'n I got the early shift and Pony's still got school." Sodapop ruffled his little brother's greased back hair. "Steve said he'll take ya to the station tomorrow."

"Aw, don't worry 'bout it. Sam's mom— Ms. Tanner, said she's drivin' me," Virginia muttered. Her answers were juvenile, cheap but so essential for this silence and her desire to see Sam come through those doors.

"You just don't want us to see you bawl," teased Ponyboy.

"Lay off," Darry warned. He folded up the newspaper sprawled across the coffee table— a nervous little habit to avoid any kind of emotional representation. He didn't pay attention to the half-drunk bottles of beer on the edges of tables and counters left by some of the boys who dropped by. It was just the newspaper.

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