(chapter 9) IT WAS ALMOST six-thirty when I got home. The rumble was set for seven, so I was late for supper, as usual. I always come in late. I forget what time it is. Dairy had cooked dinner; baked chicken and potatoes and com— two chickens because all three of us eat like horses. Especially Darry. But although I love baked chicken, I could hardly swallow any. I swallowed five aspirins, though, when Darry and Soda weren't looking. I do that all the time because I can't sleep very well at night. Darry thinks I take just one, but I usually take four. I figured five would keep me going through the mmble and maybe get rid of my headache. Then I hurried to take a shower and change clothes. Me and Soda and Darry always got spmced up before a mmble. And besides, we wanted to show those Socs we weren't trash, that we were just as good as they were. "Soda," 1 called from the bathroom, "when did you start shaving?" "When I was fifteen," he yelled back. "When did Darry?" 'When he was thirteen. Why? You figgerin' on growing a beard for the mmble?" "You're funny. We ought to send you in to the Reader's Digest. I hear they pay a lot for funny things." Soda laughed and went right on playing poker with Steve in the living room. Darry had on a tight black T-shirt that showed every muscle on his chest and even the flat hard muscles of his stomach. I'd hate to be the Soc who takes a crack at him, I thought as I pulled on a clean T-shirt and a fresh pair of jeans. I wished my T-shirt was tighter — I have a pretty good build for my size, but Td lost a lot of weight in Windrixville and it just didn't fit right. It was a chilly night and Tshirts aren't the warmest clothes in the world, but nobody ever gets cold in a mmble, and besides, jackets interfere with your swinging ability. The Outsiders, S.E. Hinton 112