Darry has a fight with Ponyboy’s new English Teacher…
You had a long night ahead of you grading paper that were due the next day, the whole week you had been awful sick and you just hadn’t gotten around to it. You sat in your classroom, it was way past 7, and you should’ve been gone hours ago.
So, when a loud knocking sounded at your door you had to stop yourself from screaming.
“Come in” You breathed, you looked up the moment the door opened and right before you, you saw the most beautiful set of pale blue eyes staring back at you… if he was the ocean he’d have swallowed you whole, and you weren’t sure if you’d mind.
“Mrs Y/L/N, I presume?” He stated in a stern voice, he folded his arms and it seems as though he was sizing you up. Uh oh- confrontation- the last thing you needed.
You assumed it was another Soc’s big brother wanting nothing more than to yell at you for giving their sibling a bad mark, maybe he’d even try to buy you off with money that you didn’t want. Maybe he’d threaten you like Charlie O’Brien’s big brother did last week… the possibilities were endless.
“Yes, is there anything I can do for you, Mr…” You trailed off, waiting for the last name so you knew just what you were dealing with. You got up from off your chair and you extended your hand.
“Mr Curtis. Ponyboy is my kid brother.”
“Oh.” You said in surprise. “Is something wrong? Is he okay?” You were feeling slightly panicked, had something happened to him on the way home? Was it another no good Soc picking on the younger greaser kids? Did he get beat up?
“He came home upset the other day, because of you!” His voice was raised and you involuntarily took a step back from him. “He said you accused him of plagiarism.”
“Mr Curtis, please-” You tried to explain yourself. You felt horrible, you hadn’t meant for him to take it that way.
“What you think that because he is a Greaser he is stupid? I’ll bet you’re one of those Socials that look down your nose at us. I’ll bet-”
“First of all, Mr Curtis” You yelled, closing the distance between the two of, so you were looking directly in his eyes. (or up at them). “Don’t you dare belittle me, you don’t know me.”
“I know you’re a snobby soc that likes to take the credit away from the likes of my kid brother-”
“I’m a greaser, just like you, just like Ponyboy. I grew up on the East Side, my parent’s were so poor that they couldn’t afford to feed me and my three little brothers and sisters every night. We were so poor that we almost lost our home. I worked three jobs to help my parent’s keep our home and to feed us. You know how I got here? Pure dumb luck. I got a scholarship that probably shouldn’t have been given to me in the first place.”
For the first time this afternoon Darry was silent. He didn’t know what to say to you. He was beginning to feel foolish.
“But you know what I see when I look at your brother? A goddamn genius. He has something special Mr Curtis and it’s your duty to make sure he doesn’t lose that gift. He writes beautifully, he talks beautifully. One day he is going to make something of himself, he is going to leave us all behind. And let me tell you, I don’t know a single kid who deserves it more. And that is the truth.”
“He said you accused him-” This time he was speaking softly, all suspicions of malice was lifted from his voice.
“He took what I said the wrong way. I asked him to stay back after class and I asked him if he wrote it. And do you know why I asked him? Because it’s beautiful. It’s absolutely beautiful. It’s poetic, it is something you could never expect a young 15 year old kid to write. He writes of loss and tragedies… and he turns it into a masterpiece. I couldn’t comprehend someone so young writing something like this. So yes, I did ask him, but I never said I didn’t believe him.”
You walked away from him, your heels clicking on the cold, wooden floor. You made your way to your desk and opened the draw, pulling out a 15 page document.
“Read it, Mr Curtis. You’ll be lost for words.”