Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders. Ms. SE Hinton owns all rights.
I can't do this, I'm only 20 goddamn years old! I can't do this…
Get a grip Darry! These are your kid brothers you're talking about. You can do this…
I groaned and dropped my head into my palms. I was overwhelmed with life right now. I heard the clock give out a soft tick, tock and I realized I had better start working on getting the house cleaned up.
Sighing, I slowly got up from the kitchen chair and winced a little bit when I felt my muscles in my shoulder flare up from the roof I fixed up yesterday. I massaged it some as I went to go look at the endless pile of bills on the counter. My stomach dropped when I saw it was addressed to my father.
Don't think about it.
It's barely been ten days and I was already pushed into this parental role I wasn't ready for.
Truthfully, is anyone ever ready to become a parent? It sure seemed like my parents were by the way they raised us.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I organized the bills into a neat stack on the counter. I already cringed at the fact that I would have to open them soon and work out a budget. I realized early on that my roofing job wouldn't make ends meet. Sodapop tried to convince me to let him work at the DX but I couldn't let him. It's true that he was never crazy about school anyway, but he couldn't become a dropout at 16.
It would mean that I failed my parents. And I couldn't take that guilt.
Taking an old rag, I quickly wiped the counter several times, cleaning off the chocolate milk and beer droplets that had taken over the middle part of the countertop. Our poor counter was scratched and stained from years of use and it was slightly burnt from Sodapop's 'experiments'. I smiled some as I remembered how mom would constantly chastise Soda on being careful and despite him saying he would be, he never was.
I missed her so much.
Don't think about it.
Putting the rag up, I glanced at our old clock that was on the mantle and realized it was nearing 4:30. Ponyboy was out with Johnny and Dallas doing Lord knows what and Sodapop was in his room, taking a nap. I debated on waking him up, but decided against it since he hasn't been getting much sleep lately.
Shoot, I haven't been getting much sleep either.
Ponyboy's nightmares have been keeping the both of us up. They started out of nowhere right after the funeral and they still haven't stopped. I mentioned going to the doctor to see what was going on, but Pony was dead set on not going. He figures he would have to get needles in him or somethin' and the kid was petrified of needles.
I was too exhausted to argue with him at that point, so I didn't push the subject any further. However, if they continued, I was going to take him even if I had to drag him there myself. These nightmares were not healthy for him and truthfully, I was tired of being tired.
And I was tired constantly now.
I went out of the kitchen and made my way into the living room, picking up random pieces of clothing and putting it in our worn-out basket. Just from the living room, I had acquired two of Sodapop's shirts, Ponyboy's running shorts, two random and mismatched socks, Soda's left shoe and … Two-Bit's underwear?
I grimaced and quickly threw that into the basket. Why it was here, I don't know, and I didn't want to know. Putting my work shirt and pants into the basket, I figured I could do the laundry when we're eating dinner. I still had to make said dinner and I didn't want to wake Soda up because of how loud our old and rackety washing machine sounds.
So, I slowly crept into the hallway and gently lowered the basket down next to our washing machine, to remind me to do the load.
I hated how I had to plan for mundane things now. When to make dinner, how much dinner to make, when to do laundry, how much laundry to do, when to clean, what to clean, when to go to the store, what to get, etc. It was unlike me. I was so used to going with the flow and doing things when I wanted that this just felt unnatural.
But I had to make myself adjust.
Because if I didn't, who else would?
Heading back into the kitchen, I walked over to our fridge and opened it up, trying to think of what I could cook up. As I was digging through the fridge, I stumbled upon some minced meat. Taking ahold of it, I reckoned I could make meatballs, boil two boxes of spaghetti, toss in some canned tomato sauce and call it dinner.
Getting out my desired ingredients, I began to season the meat and roll it into small spheres. After I was through with about half of the meat, I quickly headed over to the cabinet and pulled out a pan to get the meatballs started up. However, since my hands were greased up from making the meatballs that as soon as I took ahold of the handle, the pan slipped out of my grasp and onto to the floor with a loud clatter that echoed off the tile.
I cringed at the sound. Son of a bitch.
I quickly grabbed the pan with both of my hands and went to rinse it off. I finally set it on the stove and got it oiled and fired up. I was finishing up rolling the last of the minced meat and putting it in the pan that I didn't realize that Sodapop had woken up and wandered into the kitchen.
"Smells good," I heard him say and I damn near wet myself. I was so preoccupied with dinner that I didn't realize he had woken up. Sodapop in general had a habit of sneaking up behind someone and scaring the living daylights outta them.
And unfortunately, I was usually his unsuspecting victim.
I turned my head to see him tiredly staring at the meatballs. He yawned and rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes.
"Hey Pepsi-Cola, did I wake you?" I asked, already feeling guilty that I couldn't even cook dinner without causing noise. Sodapop waved me off as he yawned once more.
"Don't worry about it, I was already meanin' to get up," he told me as he went to the other side of the counter and hopped up onto it. I was about to tell him to get his ass off the counter, but I was tired of lecturing. I've been lecturing everyone for the past two weeks and I was already fed up by the sound of my voice.
How my parents managed to do it was beyond me.
"Need help?" he asked as he stared at the meatballs that were sizzling in the pan. I nodded as I pointed to the cabinet next to him.
"Grab two boxes of spaghetti and start boilin' some water," I told him as I was turning the meatballs in the pan. Soda did what he was told as he jumped off the counter to fetch a pot to start the boiling. I eyeballed the spaghetti and meatballs and realized I had probably made more than I should've.
Then again, if the gang was coming over to eat, which I was sure was going to happen anyway, then we had just enough. Soda jumped back up onto the counter wordlessly as I began dumping the tomato sauce into the pot.
It suddenly became quiet as Soda was waiting for the water to boil and I was letting the meatballs sizzle in the tomato sauce. I turned to my kid brother to see him staring at the water with somber eyes. It was unlike him to be this drained. He was usually bouncing off the walls, ready to get into any mischief he could find, not sitting idly on the counter, not uttering a single word.
As I began washing my hands, I flicked my wet hand into his direction where he was showered with tiny droplets of water. At first, he flinched at the sudden rain that I had bestowed upon him before he looked at me and gave me his famous grin. That's exactly what I was looking for.
"C'mon Dar, I already showered like you asked," he teased as I gave a small chuckle.
"Good, no need to be stinking up the entire house with your smell," I smirked in his direction as he stuck his tongue out at me. I rolled my eyes good heartily.
Deep down, Soda was still Soda which was something I was thankful for.
Now I just had to make sure Pony was back to being Pony.
"How'd you sleep?" I asked as I stirred the meatballs. He sighed out as he stared at the small bubbles starting to arise from the pot as he poured the spaghetti into the hot water.
"Alright I guess," he answered softly, back to being quiet. I took another look at him. He was wearing a plain white shirt which he paired with old sweatpants that used to belong to me. Just as the clothes looked worn out, the wearer of them did as well. His hair looked like it had not been brushed in days and his whole demeanor seemed to be deflated.
Soda was rarely this quiet unless something was bothering him.
"Got somethin' on your mind little buddy?" I asked. He heaved another sigh before slowly nodding to meet my gaze. I looked at him in question with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm gonna drop out of school," he told me and immediately my stomach sank. I wasn't looking to hear those words again.
"I don't think so kid," I replied sternly. "You're going to finish high school and that's final Sodapop." I didn't want to discuss this anymore. I don't want him dropping out at 16. He only had two more years to go anyway, he could tough it out.
"But Steve got me a fulltime position at the DX!" he started arguing. "I'm not going anywhere with school anyway. It just ain't for me Darry, admit it." I met his gaze and he was practically pleading. Those brown eyes of his dying to have me agree with him. However, I shook my head no.
"No Sodapop, we've been over this. You're not dropping out at 16," I said seriously. "And that's it."
"Give me a reason why I shouldn't!" he countered back at me fiercely that I was taken aback by how badly he wasn't going to let this go. "I could help you out with the bills, I'll be doing something I love, and Steve is right there with me." he explained, his voice now going from strong-willed to pleading.
I still shook my head no as I stirred the meatballs. "Soda I don't need help with the bills," I started off saying but he abruptly cut me off.
"That's bullshit Darry and you know it," he retorted. "I see you stressin' over the bills and I know we're hardly making ends meet right now. I'm not a child anymore. I want to help you out. Truly."
Not going to lie, I was considering his offer. Well I was until the parental side of me kicked in. I sighed as I turned to look at him once more.
"And what about college Sodapop? You'll never get into college if you dropout."
"I wasn't planning on going to college anyway," he replied instantly, waving that option off. "I don't need it for myself. If anyone we should be focusing on, it's Ponyboy and making sure he gets to college. I'm just not as smart as you and Pone." I opened my mouth to protest that, but Soda shut me down.
"Save it Dar, I know I'm not book smart like the two of you. I'd rather be working on cars and making some kind of living instead of sitting at a boring ol'desk for 8 hours, wasting time. Please Darry. I've never wanted to do something more in my life." He begged me. His brown eyes were softening up to my icy blue ones.
I could tell he was serious about this.
Biting my lip, I finally agreed with him.
"Alright Soda, you can dropout to work at the DX," I replied reluctantly. His expression went from hopeless to ecstatic in no time. His whole demeanor brightened up as he hollered and jumped down from the counter and hugged me.
I haven't seen him this cheerful in a long time.
"Thank you thank you thank you thank you!" he yelped in my ear as he finally let go of me and started dancing in the middle of the kitchen. I watched him in amusement and shook my head, a hint of a smile playing on my lips. I turned off the stove and put the spaghetti and meatballs together in a big bowl.
Seeing Soda's infectious energy got me feeling a little more positive and relaxed about our current situation. I watched him almost bust his ass from tripping over his own two feet while dancing. I laughed as he sheepishly grinned at me.
It was almost as if everything was normal again.
And hell, maybe I could do this parent thing after all.