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Darrel Curtis' Notebook

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It was mid-July and the sun was beating down onto Two-Bit’s head. He had abandoned his leather jacket at home and had worn just a Mickey tank top and some jeans. Well, not really a tank top, just a t-shirt he had cut the sleeves off of when he was drunk. He had made his way to the Curtis household, looking to disturb the probable peace that was there. 

When he got there, there was a note on the door. He smiled when he realized it was Darry’s handwriting, Darry’s handwriting was pretty. All loopy and kinda feminine, Two-Bit liked it. He liked it a lot more than his own sloppy print. He wished he could write in cursive, but whatever. He could just admire Darry’s handwriting whenever he could.

The note was carefully taped to the door and it read,

Hey, guys, Soda, Pony and I went to our grandparent’s house for the day. Don’t break anything. There’s a cake and some other stuff in the fridge. And please, stay safe.


Two-Bit smiled and walked into the house, letting the door swing shut behind him. He went into the kitchen and poked his head into the fridge. He sighed quietly when the cold air brushed past his face, it felt amazing . He grinned when he found the whole cake, he grabbed it and placed it on the table. After a few minutes, he found a knife, happily cutting himself a big piece. The others wouldn’t mind, and if they did, well fuck ‘em.

He turned on the radio and grinned when Elvis’ voice started to play through the speakers. He put the rest of the cake back in the fridge, took his slice and danced his way into the living room. He plopped himself onto the couch and turned on the TV. He started to eat his cake, this was going to be a damn good day.




After about an hour, Two-Bit was getting bored. There wasn’t anything good on TV and he had finished his slice of cake. He turned off the show he was watching, some cooking show. And while he now knew how to make an apple pie, he didn’t think he was going to use that knowledge anytime soon.

He walked back into the kitchen and rinsed off his plate. He leaned against the counter, thinking of something to do. He didn’t really want to go back outside, there was air conditioning here. He could try and find Dally or Steve and raise some hell, but Darry’s note had said to stay safe, and knowing those two, he wouldn’t stay safe doing it. He resolved to poke around the Curtis brother’s rooms. What harm could he do, at most he’d find something embarrassing he could hold over one of their heads. Unless it was in Darry’s room, poor guy had enough to deal with.

He started with Sodapop and Ponyboy’s room. He didn’t really find anything in there, except for some lube in Ponyboy’s nightstand. He snorted, he could definitely use that as blackmail. He poked around some more and found a letter to Sandy Hanson. It was from Soda, and it was cheesy as shit.

Two-Bit rolled his eyes and put the letter back. He could also use that as blackmail. With those things seemingly being the only things he could use to his advantage, he sauntered into Darry’s room. He glanced around the room, his closet door was open and there were some shirts strewn about the room. Two-Bit walked towards the closet, inspecting its contents.

He noticed a beaten up stuffed bear, one of its button eyes was hanging on by a string, it’s brown fur was worn down. He smiled softly and took the bear off from its perch, which was really just a folded stack of baby blankets. 

Two-Bit knew this bear and knew it well. It was handmade by his own mama, he originally had a green shirt, but it had fallen off. Two-Bit had given it to Darry for his sixth birthday, Two-Bit himself had been a chubby-cheeked four-year-old who really wanted to get his friend something nice for his birthday. His mother had spent a month and a half making sure he was able to do just that.

The bear was inseparable from Darry for years after he had given it to him. He had stopped carrying it around like a woman carries her purse when he was around ten. But he had never thrown it away. It was a comfort object that Darry couldn’t just let go of. Two-Bit remembered when he found him hugging the bear to his chest and crying into his pillow when his first girlfriend revealed she had cheated on him. Darry was red in the face when he realized the then fourteen-year-old had caught him in the midst of his teenage crisis.

Two-Bit didn’t say anything, just pulled Darry close and hugged him tightly. He remembered his t-shirt was soaked on the right sleeve. Darry felt horrible, Two-Bit just shrugged it off. It was normal for people to have emotions, no matter what thirteen-year-old Dallas Winston had to say about it. He hadn’t seen Darry with the bear since then, but it made him happy that he hadn’t thrown it away.

He put the bear back on its seat and looked through the closet some more. He found an old, navy blue notebook. Its cover was coming off and it had some of it had been torn off. He held it in his hand and the cover read, “Darrel Curtis’” and under that, it read “Notebook.” Two-Bit smiled and walked over to Darry’s bed and sat on the edge of it. He opened the notebook, the first page was filled with random doodles, eyes, hands, a pretty damn good sketch of what Two-Bit recognized to be Paul Holden.

Just the name was enough to spark something green and nasty in his gut. He hated Paul, he hated his attitude, his rich boy “I’m better than you” smirk, and he hated the way he had treated Darry. Like he was nothing more than a toy to play with a bit and then forget about as soon as you found something else new to entertain yourself with.

He let out a breath through his nose. He wasn’t going to let this piss him off, he scratched his jaw and turned the page.

At the top of it, it read “Dear Mary.