A/N: S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. Sorry about the lack of updates, I've been suffering a terrible case of writer's block. Hopefully, this story has cured me and isn't too awful. Thanks for sticking around despite my inactivity!
I stood in front of the mirror the morning after a rumble examining my war wounds. A split lip, bruised cheekbone, bloody knuckles, and a shiner that wouldn't quit were my badges of honor this time. I had more cuts and bruises, but I'd already bandaged those, so after I worked on my hands, I paused before treating my face. If I cocked my head slightly towards the upper left corner of the mirror and stared nonchalantly, I gave off a real tough vibe. Yeah, I was just like Paul Newman now. Maybe if I just turn like this- "Hey, whatcha doin', Pony?" Steve's amused question gave me a start.
"Um, nothing, I was just, um, washing up. Yeah. Did you need to get in here, or somethin'?"I backed away from the sink, my face flushed scarlet.
"That didn't look like 'nothing' to me. Were you tryin' to look tough, kid?" His giggles almost took over his whole side of the conversation, and my embarrassment soon morphed into anger.
"So, what if I was? I wasn't hurtin' anything." I retorted indignantly.
"If this ain't the funniest thing I've seen all day, I dunno what is! Oh, man, the guys are gonna flip when they hear about this. Maybe you should ask Johnnycake for tips next time, and lay off the hair grease. It looks like you washed your hair in corn syrup."
"I swear, if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I'll kill you in your sleep, Steve!"
"Nah, you'd probably just chicken out, kiddo. You ain't the killin' type. But if it'll make you feel better, I won't say nothin' about it. I'm serious about the hair grease, though. And put that collar back down, boy, you ain't no James Dean! Man alive, if Darry could see you right now, I'd give my whole week's paycheck…" Steve sauntered off, still convulsing with occasional fits of laughter, and I hurriedly shut the bathroom door.
"I've never been so embarrassed in all my life. I thought I'd die, or something, Johnny." I laid back against the gravel in the lot later that evening, watching the stars emerge in all their shimmering glory.
"At least Dally and Two-Bit didn't see you; you'd never hear the end of it if they'd been there. Steve's cool, I know he wouldn't break a promise like that." Johnny yawned and stretched, lighting a cigarette, which he passed to me after a couple drags.
"Why d'you dig Steve so much, Johnnycake? Every time I complain about him, you have something nice to say." I pouted. I was kinda hoping that Johnny would start to see things my way when it came to Steve, but he never did.
"Look, you know Soda better'n I do. D'you really think he'd be friends with a complete dipstick?"
"I guess not."
"So, why are you so hard on Steve? I know you don't like that he treats you like a kid, but the fact is, in his eyes, you are just a kid. He don't know you as well as I do, and he probably only sees certain sides of you, so he treats you the way he thinks you need to be. I'm not sayin' it's right, and I'm not sayin' it's wrong, but everybody does that. The teachers at school treat me like I'm dumb, Sylvia treats Dally like he don't exist, and Two-Bit treats his mom like a maid. We've all got faults, and sometimes we've got more than others, but that don't give you an excuse to completely write a body off like you're doin' to Steve. Give him a chance, Pony, you'll see what he's really like in time." He flicked some ash off against his shoe.
"Quit lecturing me, you sound like Darry. I thought you were s'posed to be my buddy, not my parent." I hated it when Johnny was right, and I felt a little grumpy and very tired.
"I'm sorry, but I just think you're shortchanging him. I don't mean to lecture you, we both know that, but you need a good dose of common sense once in a while. I think you keep forgettin' that I'm a couple years and some change older'n you. I know how you feel, I really do, but you need to open up a little bit. Steve isn't a bad guy. Just look at Evie, she loves him to the moon and back. Anyone who treats his girl like Steve treats Evie can't be awful." Johnny finished off the cigarette and sighed as a vaguely sad expression clouded his features for a moment. "Also, I've been talkin' to Darry a lot more. That's why I sound like him." He smiled self-consciously, stretching out beside me to watch the moon rise.
Early the next morning, I noticed Steve on the couch as I went for a glass of water. "I thought you were sleeping." I whispered.
"I tried, but I can't. It ain't worth it now, anyway." He glanced toward the chair, where Johnny had curled up. "Why're you up, kid?" I held up my glass of water, then gave him one. "Thanks."
"I guess I should apologize for yesterday. I didn't mean to get so mad, I just hate bein' treated like a kid, y'know?" I took a sip of water.
"It's okay, I really shouldn't have riled you up. Sorry, kid. It was pretty funny, though." I detected a soft smile in his voice, devoid of all mischief. "If you want, I could show you how to fix your hair up real tuff, like mine. You and Soda both have real tuff hair."
"Thanks, Steve. I kinda like the style I've got, but I'll call you if I ever wanna learn. I don't have nearly that much patience."The water had cleared my voice of a slight sleepy raspiness, and it carried a little, causing Johnny to stir.
"Shh, you'll wake Johnnycake." We didn't talk any more after that, but neither of us went back to sleep either. The sun was finally coming up, staining the wispy clouds and the curtains all shades of orange, purple, pink, and gold.