"Darry, how can you drive with your arm in a sling?" Soda asked as he plopped green mashed potatoes on my plate.

"Driving is the east part, shingling is the hard part." I replied. "Did he take out every book in the library?" I asked eyeing the giant stack of library books on the other end of the table.

Soda grinned. "I want Pony to tell you! I'll be back and get you your chicken."

I rolled my eyes. My youngest brothers addiction to reading was no concern of mine, as long as he was reading a textbook. He better get those library books back in time. I wasn't sure how he did it. He picked me out a few books from the library the other week. He thought they would entertain me; since, I had bed rest when I fell off a later. They weren't the slightest bit entertaining.

Soda came shoving Pony in by the shoulders. "Tell him!" He demanded. Soda seemed way more excited than Pony. He nearly shook his head off his shoulders.

"That essay I wrote after Dallas and Johnny died, it got picked for this contest." He began.

"Yeah, your teacher has to enter you, and she can only enter three kids from his grade! And Pony got picked as one of the ultimate winners from all of Tulsa!" Soda butted in. "He could get 100 dollars!"

"We have a week and a half to write an essay about our American hero and say why. There is one kid that got picked from each school in Tulsa. We read the final essay in front of a panel of judges." Pony explained.

"Good job kid. So, who are you going to write about?" I asked. I guess writing was another talent my younger brother could add to his list.

"That's just thing I don't know. Everyone is going to write about George Washington or Abraham Lincoln. I need to find someone original." Pony said. He collapsed in the chair next too me.

"You better figure it out soon." I said.

"You should write about Darry!" Soda said as if he just came to the world's greatest conclusion. "How many people roof a house with one arm in a sling!

"I don't think that would fly Soda, we have to write about someone famous." Pony said.

"Pony, if you write about me. You can kiss that chance at that money good bye. You got this in the bag kiddo, just pick your person. Make sure that person is original. That money and a summer job could get you a car."

"What's going on Curtis family?" Two bit's voice came echoing in. "I heard talk of a car." He threw his beat up leather jacket on the couch.

" I got it!" Pony jumped off the chair and took off running to his room. "I have to go to the library and get a book! Soda, will you drive me? I need to get there before it closes."

"Why not, I like the idea of a cute librarian." Soda grinned and took off after Pony. He punched Two bit in the shoulder on his way out.

"Did someone just light a fire under his ass?" Two- Bit asked.

"I have no clue." I answered. "I can't imagine why he would need another book."

"Darry, did Soda dye that chicken?"

I cringed at the pink chicken on my plate. "I'm not sure. You want it?"

Two-bit shook his greased hair. "No way in hell."

"You're not coming? I though you said you could get off work!" I looked up Darry. This day was so important to me. I found out that if I won, I also got to have my picture in the paper, and write a small story in it. "Come on Darry, I never asked you to go to an art show or a track meet! This is the only thing I am asking to get some support on!"

"Ponyboy, I have missed three track meets. You never told me about an art show. And I am pretty sure putting a roof on your head, feeding you, and forcing you out of bed every morning is support. So don't even get this fight started." I knew I pissed him off. I didn't really care. I went to all his high school games. I showed him support. This was important too.

Darry shoved his foot in his boot. He had them tied looser than normal. He couldn't tie one handed, but he was never going to ask for help.

"Look Pony. I'll be there. You'll show all those socs up." Soda said. He patted my back.

"Good luck, Ponyboy." Darry said. He grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

"We'll have to take the bus, and leave earlier." I am going to go get ready.

I rehearsed my speech on Walt Disney as I dried my hair off. I figured that he would be original. Not to mention he was kind of like a greaser. He had a hard life, and created an entire industry. No one else would think of Walt Disney.

"Pony, we need to leave in five minutes." Soda shouted.

"Okay, I just need to get my shirt out of the dryer. It' been done for a while."

Soda came into the room just as I was putting on a white under shit. He held up the plaid button down. It was the only decent shirt I had that really fitted good. "The dryer is broke again.

"No way, Darry fixed it last week." I grabbed the shirt and smelled it. Last week we discovered the dryer wasn't drying well enough. If the clothes sat in the dryer too long when it was off, they started to smell like dirt. "Damn it, so much for his fix it skills."

"Watch it Pony. He can't afford a new dryer. He is doing his best. You know that support comment earlier actually hurt his feelings. He'd come if he could." Soda said. He had a small tinge of anger in his voice.

"I know. I'm just nervous. Do you have cologne I could spray on here?" The shirt was just damp. So, it would dry on the way to the school.

Soda shook his head. "I bet Darry does in one of his drawers."

I nodded as I buttoned up the shirt. I walked into my older brother's room. For some reason Darry's room was always fascinating to me. He kept it so organized. He had posters on his wall of teams, athletes and even one of Einstein. When Darry was in high school he told me it gave him inspiration. The wall just behind his bed had a giant Notre Dame poster. Darry had loved that school for as far back I could remember. I was never sure why. I could still remember him in third grade saying one day he would play for them. I guess he realized by the time he was in eighth grade that we didn't have the money. He only applied for local colleges.

Soda always kept his cologne in his sock and underwear drawer. I opened the first drawer but it was only socks. I rolled my eyes. "Who doesn't have underwear in the top drawer." I opened the drawers until I found his cologne. It was stuck in the underwear drawer. I grabbed the cologne, but when I did there was a piece of paper with the Notre Dame fighting Irish guy on it. I unfolded the paper. It was dated a few days before our parents' death. It was an acceptance letter, and a letter of congratulations.

"Pony, we need to go now!" Soda hollered. "You only need one spray, not the whole bottle!"

I quickly folded the letter back up and put everything back. "I'm coming!" My brother had a full ride to the college of his dreams. He had given it up. He could have had everything he wanted and dreamed of.

Soda and I got on the bus. The contest was being held at Holy Trinity. It was a catholic high school on the other side of town.

"Soda" I asked, "Did Darry ever tell you if he got into college."

"He got into some local school, and it was too expensive. So when he went to save up for a year or so. Then Mom and Dad died." Soda's voice trailed off. He didn't like to say that Mom and Dad were dead. "He couldn't afford us, and college. You know that."

We got off the bus. The school was only a block away. "I know but, I though maybe he applied to Notre Dame, or Harvard or something big."

Soda playfully punched me. "Come on, Darry ain't no dreamer. Going out of town would have been too much."

" I guess." I said for the sake of saying anything. I pulled my note cards out of my pocket.

"Holy soc ville." Soda stopped in his tracks. He was right. The school was huge and the parking lot was filled with nice cars. The people were all dressed up. I felt awkward as we walked in the gymnasium. I got stared. What made it worse was the chairs for the contestants had everyone's first and lasts name. Mine read Mister Curtis. I sat down in the chair with a sign. Kids were in suits and ties. I was in a plaid button down.

"Excuse me, Mr. Curtis. We need your real name." An old lady stood hunched over me. She pushed her glasses back and glared at me.

"It's Ponyboy Curtis. My birth certificate says so." I was really wishing I had a cigarette. I had to mentally tell myself not to chew on my nails.

"Oh, okay then." She smirked and waddled off to the microphone.

I was the second last. I wasn't sure how the order worked. The guy after must have been a greaser too because his hair was slicked back. It was half way through the sixth speech when Darry came walking up the aisle. He was covered in dirt head to toe. His jeans were ripped up. The people began to give him dirty looks. The lady on the other side of where he sat even scooted down. I wasn't sure what it was exactly. The fact that he just put in hard work with one arm, or the fact I finally realized what Darry gave up, or the fact that I acted like a spoiled brat, but my blood was boiling. These people had no right to look at him that way.

"Out second last essay was written by Ponyboy Curtis." The old lady, who had wanted to know what my real name, announced. I made the b line for the garbage can. "Ponyboy, it's up here." The whole auditorium snickered. Darry looked a little confusesd. I tossed my note cards in the trash. I walked up to the microphone.

"My American hero hasn't led revolutions for voting or equal rights. He's never thrown touch down passes for the pros. All though, he is smart, he has never invented something that has changed a nation. What he can do is hold his family together, emotionally and financially. He offers a lot of support, and pushes you to the point where you're sick and tired of him, but you passed your math test. Which is another A to get you toward college. Where, I can actually go because he roofs houses, even when he falls off a latter, and has to wear a sling. He still goes to work. He lacks sleep and is emotionally and physically exhausted. And when he is sick he can't take a day off. Because he has two mouths to feed, he comes home to a wrecked house, and green burnt dinner. He takes the really horrible cards that God delt him, without complaint. He opens his house up so people can escape their problems. He is older brother, who walks the path of both parents, because he had two little brothers. He stepped up to give them everything, so he can have nothing. He kept his family together, when no one believed he could. When my parents died, my brother Darry, stepped up to take care of my brother Sodapop and I. So, we wouldn't have to go to a boy's home. We aren't easy to take care of. He had everything going for him. He gave his whole life, and a chance to make something better of himself. My brother doesn't get credit for anything he does. He doesn't even ask for it. Before any of you give my brother a dirty look because his jeans are dirty, you should shake his hand He has done more in the past few year, than any of you, or anybody in some library book has done." The room was silent. People actually looked ashamed. "Thank you, Darry for being here. Thank you, to everyone who listened today." I walked back to my seat.

The lady announced the last speaker. I felt my stomach roll, and my ears got red. I wasn't sure if I publically humiliated my brother, either way it made me mad as heck that people gave him those dirty looks. I didn't even hear the last speaker. I was lost in my own thoughts. All the sudden there was applause. I stood up, and began to walk out of the gym with the heard of other contestants and their families. I made my way to the truck even of part of me just wanted to run all the way home. I was about to climb in the when someone grabbed me. My feet dangled off the ground. "I love you, kiddo. You don't owe me a single thank you." Darry whispered.

Even with one arm he could still slightly lift me off the ground. "You show me everyday. I'm sorry about this morning." My feet hit the ground. "Ready to go home?"

My older brothers nodded. We piled into the truck. "When do you find out if you win?" Soda asked.

"A few days." I knew there was no way I won, but it was worth it.

"What made that out burst?" He asked.

Darry looked over and gave me a questioning look. "I know that wasn't the speech on the cards you tossed out."

"

Those people gave you dirty looks. You don't deserve that." I answered not sure if I should tell him about the letter I found.

"Come on, Pony people give us greasers dirty looks all the time, what else drove you to the speech?" Soda glanced in the rearview mirror, and combed his hair with his fingers.

"How can you be some calm? They can give us those looks, but could have had his dreams come true. He gave it up! He could have gone to college. You're happy working on cars. He isn't happy roofing!"

"Pony, where is this coming from?" Darry asked.

"You got in to Notre Dame, with a full ride!" I didn't want to blurt it out like that.

Darry slammed on his breaks, the tired squealed as pulled the truck off the road. I could smell the burned rubber from breaking so hard. "What the hell?"

"I found the letter from Notre Dame, when I went to get some cologne. It was dated two days before Mom and Dad died." I glanced back at Soda. He was sitting there starring at Darry. He had an indescribable expression on his face.

"I got the letter a day after they died. I asked what would happen if I went to college. No judge was going to let me even try. I realize now, I wouldn't have even made it. But it wasn't important and I didn't tell you guys. I didn't want you to feel bad."

"If it wasn't important why did you keep the letter?" Soda seemed to have a question for everything today.

Darry rubbed his temples with his good hand. "That letter is a trophy. It says accomplished something. I proved to myself, I was good enough, smart enough."

"You should frame it." I said.

Soda looked at his hands. "I don't know what to say. Congrats on making it in."

"Thanks." Darry pulled the car back on the street. "Do me a favor guys and just don't think about this."

The night was awkward. None of us knew what to say to each other. Soda eventually wondered off with Steve to see some car show.

"Darry, how did you get that scholarship?" I asked. I didn't know what else to say. I just wanted to break the silence.

"Ironically, I had to write and essay on a great American." Darry grinned.

"Really? Who did you write it on?"

"If I tell you, you can't laugh!" He pointed his finger at me. "I'm serious."

"I won't." I promised.

"Look it needed to be original. I needed something no one else would have. So, I wrote about Walt Disney."

I burst out laughing. Darry started poking my sides. "You said you would not laugh!"

"That's who I wrote about for my speech!" I grabbed his arm so he would start poking me.

"Great minds think a like." Darry said. "I don't regret my decision."

He wasn't talking about Walt Disney anymore. "I don't regret my speech. Doesn't it bother you that those people gave you those looks? I mean."

Darry clapped his hand around my mouth and pulled on the couch next to him. "Ponyboy, you're going to go places. People are going to look at you, like they did to me today. Promise me that you will never get upset by how people look at you. An appearance is just that, an appearance, and promise that when it's your turn to do the judging, you won't judge by someone else's appearance."

"You could put a little more grease in your hair. You kind of look like a soc." I teased.

Darry flattened my on the couch with one hand, and then sat on me so I couldn't get up. "That's not what I said to say." He was grinning from ear to ear.

"You're crushing me." I wiggled my hands free, and tried to push him off me. He was too big and too strong and he didn't even get thrown off balance.

He just grinned at me evilly. "I can sit here all night." He poked at me again.

"No, okay I promise, I'm not like that anyways." I yelled between laughs.

Darry lifted himself off me but then immediately sat back on me. This time he sat harder and knocked some of the air out of me. "Good boy. Now tell me I'm your favorite brother, and tell me you love me."

"No way!" I shouted.

Darry messed up my hair. "It's going to be a long night."