Categories > Books > Outsiders
Disclaimer: Characters belong to SE Hinton.
We sat next to each other on the living room couch, watching The Beverly Hillbillies’, both feigning excuses to escape awkwardness. His was the cushions were too lumpy and kept punching them before putting them back behind him. Mine was, it was my house and had to promptly ask him if he wanted something to drink or eat – even though he kept declining.
I watched the television screen with unseeing eyes. I hated this show, but he seemed to be enjoying it.
I sat there, nervously beside him, and fidgeted with my hair out of habit. My headed was pressed up against his shoulder, and my feet propped up on the coffee table between his ankles. He looked down at me and grinned. I wasn’t in the most comfortable positions, I guess it wouldn’t have been so bad if he wasn’t so damn bony.
I breathed in. Cigarettes and cheap cologne. It could have been worse.
I sighed and stared at the ceiling, mentally cursing myself. My perfume had faded along with my make-up, and my hair was tousled. Then suddenly panicked, when I realised the top button of my blouse had come undone, and you could see way too much for a first date. I reached up to button it, then realised if he hadn’t noticed yet, he would, if I drew attention to it. I dropped my hand back down.
Damn. I had to break the awkward silence somehow, and since he wasn’t going to do it... I cleared my throat.
“So, do you watch this show often?” I asked, sounding not one bit confident and feminine, but more throaty and pathetic.
“Huh? Oh... Oh yeah. I love this show,” he said. Great ...
“So, what do you do with your spare time?”
He paused for a second then smiled uneasily. “I help Tim run the gang. Those suckers wouldn’t be anywhere with out me.”
I blinked. “Oh... yeah?”
He gave a funny look, and then grinned. “Yeah, I’m his right hand man. Tim needs me. I help him deal the goods and sort out the gang wars”
I slid off his shoulder, on to the couch, starting to feel annoyance as he bantered on about beating the crap out of rival hoods.
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
“Nothing,” I lied. He gave me a funny look, before slow agitation starts to show on his face. He was starting to feel uncomfortable. “Well, you don’t seem like the drug and gang leading type.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He snapped, and his eyes darkened. “You’re just like Tim and the rest of the gang. You don’t think I can do anything right-” suddenly realisation hit him, in that one response he had contradicted everything he was talking about earlier. His face reddened in embarrassment.
“My older siblings don’t trust me to do anything either,” I said. “But we’ll show them one day, right?”
He opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it again. The high level of embarrassment and uneasiness had simmered down, as I felt his fingers entangle in mine. We both smiled, feeling at ease, for the first time that night.
“You dig okay, babe,” he said, running his hand through my hair. I blushed.
“Before you kiss me,” I said. “Can we turn off The Beverly Hillbillies’?”
“Thank God,” he grinned. “I hate this show.”
I smiled. The date was finally starting to look up.
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