𝚜𝚒𝚡𝚝𝚢-𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚎

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Virginia hadn't seen Dallas since that morning and she figured it was for the better

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Virginia hadn't seen Dallas since that morning and she figured it was for the better. She knew him long enough to know what he would do. Swipe a candy bar or a fancy pair of earrings to wordlessly hand to her. Maybe even sneak in a sweet word or two if her frown was that deep. Sure, she would understand his intentions behind it, but it would not remedy the problems jeopardizing their relationship.

She could see him sometimes though, loitering by the house's chainlink fence and smoking a cigarette. It would usually be when Darry had gone to sleep and she was up in her room, grading papers and organizing her lessons for the week. Her window gave her the perfect view of Dallas clutching the rod of the fence, leaving her wondering if he was going to jump it or run the other way.

Darry had been oddly quiet the past few days. For a while, Virginia had been gripped by fear over the possibility he might've found out. He always favored her with a smile though, before the shadow would engulf his face again. There was something wrong and it didn't take a genius to understand that. With one look shared with Ponyboy, Virginia knew it was about the Tigers. It seemed like every problem that ransacked her neighborhood was connected to them in one way or another. That was another thing she couldn't help but resent Dallas for.

Life would go on and it certainly wouldn't wait for her to quit dawdling.

Virginia could hear the usual morning commotion from her room. She just hoped Darry and Sodapop didn't drink up all the coffee. Ponyboy hadn't gotten into the habit of drinking it until recently and by evening, the Curtis household would be running purely on caffeine. Virginia could smell the honey butter she made the day before warming up for toast—or flapjacks if Roseanne was staying there— and she quickly threw off her white satin nightdress to get a bite before her brothers scarfed it down. Her eyes lingered on the flimsy shift. Dallas always liked that one. She shook her head, pushing the notion down in her mind.

Her only blouse that was ironed was tangerine with white pearl buttons. She cinched the loose fabric with a plastic white belt. It was worn and wrinkled from years of use but she still kept it. There was a time when Virginia feared wearing it to school. She'd lose sleep and precious thoughts over what the prettier and more popular girls would say of her older clothes but she knew her kids wouldn't do that. There was a pure, endless good to them that warmed her heart and she felt the urge to protect that goodness from the starkly changing world. Of course, she should know better than anyone that no one can be protected from anything.

She shimmied into mauve tights and a butter yellow skirt patterned with green, orange, and violet butterflies, braided her hair and slung her leather purse over her shoulder. In one arm, she grabbed her folders and her journal, and her beige peacoat was draped over the other before she made her way down the narrow staircase and into the kitchen.

The crackling of oil drew her eyes to the steaming pan on the stove where thin slices of bacon curled and reddened. It took all of her willpower to not reach into the skillet and take the sizzling meat for herself. Darry walked in carrying a bunched-up white shirt in his hands.

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