"Man, it's all my fault for bringin' a thirteen year old kid along!" Johnny jumps up from under my arm, crying out at me, "you know you oughta go home, Ponyboy, you can't get in any trouble, you didn't kill him!"
"No!" tears stream down my face but I don't care, "I'm fourteen! I've been fourteen for a month and I'm in this just as much as you are! I'll stop cryin' in a minute," I say, sitting down again across the room, as Johnny follows me, "I can't help it." He puts a hand on my shoulder.
"I didn't mean it like that, Ponyboy... don't cry," he sits beside me. I look over at him, "don't cry, man." He pulls me into a tight hug, but it only makes my tears flow more. "It'll be alright, we gon' be fine."
The fire is warm; Johnny's head on my lap is warm. We're not sleeping but we might as well be, we ain't spoken in hours. He stirs slightly, waking me from a daydream.
"Pony? What you thinkin'?" I look down at him, my eyes still glazed.
"If I'm honest, I was thinkin' 'bout that Cherry Valance."
"Oh yeah?" He speaks slowly, laying his head back on my lap, "you really liked her, huh?"
"Not really." I prop my head up on my elbow, "It's just dumb, ain't it? No good-lookin' Soc girl in her right mind would go after a Grease kid like me."
Johnny doesn't reply, so I close my eyes and don't say anything either for a few minutes.
"You ain't bad-lookin' yourself, you know, Pony," he says, his voice a whisper, "that Cherry don't know what's good for her." I laugh.
"Hell, kid," he laughs too, a little, but it's genuine, "I don't know." I look down at Johnny, and he sits up a little. He's cute, not the type the girls drool over like Dallas Winston or Sodapop, but he's cute.
He looks away slowly, the slight happiness emptying from his face. I wish I could do more to help him, I feel real bad for Johnny. And he's my buddy, ain't he? I put an arm around his shoulder and he leans into me, closing his eyes. Wonder how long it'll be before Dally comes. I quite like it though. It ain't lonesome 'cause Johnny's nice company. I can relate to him something better than the others.
"Johnny, you ever been in love?" he doesn't move, but he replies quietly.
"I don't know. Maybe."
"Soda's in love with Sandy," it almost hurts to remember, "says it's real nice." Johnny starts crying, so I hold him tighter to me. "Hey, Johnny, it'll be alright, you'll see."
"It ain't that," he sniffs, "not really, not right now."
"Then what's up?" He glances at me quickly then looks away again.
"It don't matter. I'm 'kay now."
"C'mon man, what's wrong?"
"What you was sayin', Pony... 'bout love and all."
"What about it?"
"... I think I love you."
"I said I'm sorry! I told you... I don't wanna be. It don't feel right... but, it does. I can't help it." I turn round to face him. I ran out of the church when he said it. I didn't mean to.
"Johnny, I'm sorry too. It was just... sudden." I really am sorry. I hadn't known how to react, no-one'd ever told me they loved me before. And Johnny...
"I know, man, I know." He shrugs awkwardly. "I nev'r meant to tell you, it just kinda slipped out." I look down at the grass, but Johnny's gaze stays on my face. Maybe I'm just being a coward.
"Didn't mean to tell me?"
"Course," he half-smiles, as if trying to make things more casual again, "you ain't gon' think the same back like that... you know it's the truth." He says it like it's the most obvious thing ever, but it makes me think. What if I really could love Johnny? I'd never actually considered it, I guess partly because I'd never have expected him to love me in the first place. I walk slowly over to him, and he looks up at me. "Ain't it?"
"I... I don't know," I shrug, and his eyes widen. "I don't know."
"You don't? Why not?" Hope flickers across his crestfallen face but quickly recedes as he notices my expression. I shrug again, looking down at the floor. He shivers, and suddenly I'm aware of the cold.
"C'mon, let's go inside," we walk in, and usually I would have put an arm around his shoulder but it didn't feel like the right moment then.
Johnny. Johnny loves me, huh? We ain't said a word since we came in, but hell, I've been thinking about it. I don't know what to do; I thought I liked Cherry. I thought a lot of things.
I glance over at Johnny again, and he looks back. His eyes are wide and his eyebrows raised. Must be putting him through hell with all this waiting. Nonetheless, he tries to smile at me. I like his smile. He stretches his mouth real big and his eyes glisten like he's properly happy.
Hey, look proper, Pony. He kinda has a gorgeous smile. Reassuring. I smile back, then crawl slowly over to him. His forehead is slightly damp, and his face is pinker than usual. I sit, staring, my knees just touching his and my face a few inches away. My head's going nuts. Immense feelings of lust swell up inside of me, but this is Johnny we're talking about! Johnny's just my buddy. I never even considered being in love with him, so why do I feel like this? I don't want to start anything, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to help myself.
"Pony?" I look up. A strand of his hair, although cut recently, falls across his face. I brush it away, softly, and shuffle in closer. Is it possible to like someone this much without even realising? Maybe I felt like this the whole time but I just pushed it aside, bottled it up, convinced myself it wasn't true. Or maybe feelings spouted the moment that he told me. Maybe it's just a spur-of-the-moment thing. I don't know. Does it matter? Right here, right now, I think that I love Johnny too, and that's ok.
I lean closer to him and rest my forehead against his, eyes closed, lips almost touching but not quite.
"Ponyboy?" I tilt my head and press my mouth against his, wrapping my arms around his back and pulling him close to me. His skin is cold, but his lips are warm. When I pull away he looks at me funny, like he's not sure if he's gonna laugh or scream or maybe cry. To my relief, he breaks out into a massive grin before cracking up. I can't help but join in, and when we're both out of breath from incessant laughter I fall into his chest, sighing. What a weird day. Who'd'a thought it'd end like this? I don't think any of us did. What will the others think?
Maybe we don't have to go back. We could stick around in this church, living on baloney and cigarettes, just the two of us. Johnny's good company after all.