Burning Inside

1. The Fire

There's a fire in a house down the street.

Not even ten minutes ago, during the party we went to, my friend Eddie suddenly stepped up and put his elbow into my ribs, making me spill beer on the living room carpet.

"C'mon," he said loudly into my ear, to be heard over the blasting music.

I pulled away with his voice ringing in my head. "What?"

He took a step back and gestured at me, eagerly. "Just come!"

It was boring there anyway. I don't know why I agreed to come in the first place. So I put the glass down and followed him through the house, dodging people everywhere. I felt it as soon as he opened the front door - the sticking scent of something burning.

I know I should have turned around once I did. I should have turned around and walked back inside, stayed where it was safe and maybe got something more to drink. Anything would have been better than going out there. But I kept my mouth shut, just put one foot in front of the other, followed him out onto the street, past a few houses and toward a crowd standing on the sidewalk. We stopped there, and then I saw it.

The fire.

I shiver. Maybe because I'm only wear jeans and t-shirt and the January night is cold; maybe because I'm watching flames lick the walls of a house, mercilessly destroying everything in their way. Maybe because it reminds me of too many things, wakes up too many memories.

A woman screams. In my drunk mind, I don't hear her words, but maybe no one does. Maybe she's just screaming. Wordless. Desperate. A cop has his arm around her shoulders, but she stumbles down to her knees, buries her hands into her hair. She only wears a morning robe, and grey slippers on her feet. They appear to be too big for her.

It disturbs me a lot, seeing it. All of it. Her pain. It makes me nauseous. It makes me want to throw up, right here where I stand. I manage to swallow it down.

"What do you think happened?" Eddie says beside me, sounding sober and somber, staring at the scene. The eagerness is missing now; reality has caught up within him, too.

A lit cigarette, dropped and forgotten on an old wooden floor flashes through my mind. I feel the goosebumps on my arms and cross them. Hold tight.

"You think someone's still in there?"

I glance at him. The firetrucks' blue lights and the orange glow from the flames compete to color his face. I hear an ambulance on its way.

"No," I say to him, determined, turning my gaze back to the fire. "No one's in there."

Because no one can be. It would be too late then.

The smoke must be seen miles away, whirling up in the dark night sky. I remember the last time, when it was not too late yet, and suddenly I'm not on a street in Tulsa anymore. I have just jumped out of a car and run toward a church. I can almost hear the screams from the kids inside, feel Johnny push me out through the window. I feel light-headed, and I start to sway.

"What's wrong?" Eddie grips my arm.

"Nothin'." I push him away, roughly, turn around and empty my stomach into someone's bushes.

An hour ago, the house behind my back was a living home, but tomorrow it will be a pile of ash. It only takes an instant for things to change, fatally. Just one mistake. Falling asleep in the vacant lot. Running away. Forgetting a cigarette. Writing a theme. Trusting someone.

Fire is just like time. They both take and give nothing back, leaving only memories behind. Even if I have been back home for six months by now, out of foster care since September, nothing I have will stay with me forever. I won't be able to stop the time, to stop things from changing. It's going on and on and on. Just by breathing. Just by growing up.

I will make mistakes.

I wrap my arms around my aching stomach. I have the fire inside me, and I don't know how to put it out.

xXx

I lace my running shoes carefully. They are not brand new - Darry found them for me at a thrift store just before the season started - but the first owner can't have used them much. Enough to take the stiffness out of them, but too little to have damaged them in any way. Darry still apologized when he handed me the bag, something sad in his eyes. I know how he struggles with the bills, even if it was a year ago we were in court.

I stand up and jump a little on the spot. Coach has talked all week about this day, when college scouts will come to watch us practice. That we have to do our best, that this is what we have been working so hard for all through school. The others have, at least. I went back to track just last year, when I came back to Will Rogers. But I know I can keep up. I'm in good shape despite all the cigarettes I smoke.

Eddie walks up to me, just finished with the warm up too. His mouth is only a thin line as he drags his dark, unruly hair away of his face, breathing out slowly. I know he's nervous; his times have been bad this last month.

Coach Harris steps forward and claps his hands twice. "Come on now, boys! Don't let me down, you hear? Show'em what you've got. Run as if you have a hungry tiger after you!"

"Why not a lion?" Leo jokes, as they all start to move toward the running lanes, but only a few guys laugh.

"Shit," Eddie swears lowly, looking even more pale. "I ain't gonna make it. I'll be in so much trouble if I don't get a scholarship."

His words have made me worried before, but I don't think he's another Johnny. I have never been at Eddie's place, never seen his parents, but he has never shown any bruises either. If they hurt him, it can't be with their fists. At least I hope not, but I haven't dared to ask. Maybe I'm just afraid of the answer, what to do with it if it's the wrong one. Sometimes it's better not knowing.

Eddie walks up to the tracks, but I find myself hesitate, falling behind in my steps. I watch the others, bumping fists against shoulders, smiling nervously but determined, glancing up at the scouts sitting on the bleachers. I turn my gaze at them too - two middle-aged men, one in glasses. Here to decide who's future they might change.

I stop short at the thought. That is why they are here, isn't it? It's not just about today, it's about several years from now. Pick a guy, give him some money, send him away to a college out of state.

I feel sweat start to trickle. Out of state. They are not here in the behalf of some college in Oklahoma. They are here to split families, but I'm done with that. I'm done with letting strangers change my future. Especially those who think they are doing me a favor, like they know what I need better than I do.

But what am I supposed to do? Coach will notice right away if I don't do my best, he knows my skills. Just a few days ago, I almost caught up with Greg, the fastest boy in our team. I take a step forward, but then I stop again, wiping my forehead with my arm.

I can't do this. I can't run.

I sink down to the grass, breathing slowly. The sun is too hot today, shining hard on my skin. My neck and arms take the most of it, and I wish there was a shadow around here. I guess, maybe, I'm just not feeling too well. That could be it, why I feel so strange all of a sudden. I'm too warm.

"Take your place, Curtis." Harris is suddenly next to me, kicking my foot lightly. I have to squint my eyes as I look up at him. "C'mon, then. They ain't waitin' all day."

I lick my dry lips. "I ain't runnin' today, coach." I really try to sound casual, like it's no big deal. Hiding the fact I have bile up my throat, that my heart has something crazy going on in my chest. Harris looks baffled, though, his blue eyes widening some.

"You're not... ? Tell me you're just kiddin' me!"

"I can't. It's, um... my knee." I drag my right leg up to my chest, rubbing the knee slightly. "It's been buggin' me for a while. I don't want to make it worse."

"Your knee?"

"Yeah... I mean, it ain't nothin' serious or anythin', but -"

"Christ, Curtis, today of all days?"

I turn my gaze back to the runners, see Eddie watching us, something confused in his face. He makes a movement with his hand, like pointing beside him, but I shake my head slowly, mouthing a No. He frowns, but at least he stays where he is. I can't deal with both of them at the same time.

"I have friends doin' me a big favor today," Harris says seriously, drawing my attention back to him. "You think it's common for scouts to show up at a High school practice like this? I tell you what, it rarely happens. They're doin' it only because I asked them. Because they know I have some good guys on my team. Guys who can make it. Big time."

I look away again, feeling guilty. "I know. But I won't look good stumblin' on the tracks, right? I mean, we'll have meets this year, they will come watchin' then too?"

"They might not look at you then, Curtis. Maybe they will already have their names. You're not the only one who's fast enough."

I rip at the grass under my hand. "If I run in first or second on the meets they'll notice me."

He sighs.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I just don't want to hurt myself so I can't compete. I wouldn't sit here if it wasn't bad."

Harris grips the whistle around his neck. "I get that. Just wish you had told me sooner." His eyes narrow some. "You will have someone to look at it?"

"Yeah, my brother will book me a doctor's appointment."

He nods curtly, then turns around. Relieved, I watch him go. There is nothing wrong with my knee.

Eddie gets a great start, but as they come to the second round, he has fallen too far behind the lead. Silently I urge him to press more, to try harder. I know he has it in him - our whole junior year, he was in top five. I don't know what has happened during the summer, but I know the scouts have noticed his tiredness. I can tell they have already counted him out, their eyes not following him at all anymore.

I lean back on my elbows as a panting Eddie drops down next to me an hour later. Coach has really drilled them today. Long distance, short distances. I hear him swear under his breath.

"I screwed up," he says, his face in pain. "Shit."

"It wasn't that bad..."

Shaking his head, he makes a face. "Yeah it was. Sophomores were faster than I am." He picks up the water bottle sitting between my feet and takes a swig, grimacing at the lukewarm liquid.

"Greg is faster than anyone," I say.

"I ain't only talkin' about Greg." He suddenly fixes his gaze on me, hard. "Why the hell didn't you run?"

I try to keep it light, with a shrug. "I didn't feel like it."

He looks even more grim. "That's so much bullshit. There are college scouts out there. Why?"

"I just didn't want to." I sit up, drag up my legs and place my elbows on them. "Don't nag about it, okay?" I suddenly snap.

"Fine. Whatever." He throws his hands up, surrenders immediately. "Sometimes I just don't understand you."

I stare down at the grass. He's not the only one.

xXx

I sit on the grass in our backyard, smoking the third cigarette in a row. I slowly rub my temple with my other hand, wishing I didn't feel so stressed about things. The pounding in my head is too familiar, and I close my eyes because of the pain.

I know why I didn't run today. I can pretend all I want that I don't, but it's not true. I have a reason. My stomach knots when I just think about college, about leaving home, about leaving Tulsa again. I know I don't have to do that - there is a college here too, and I can attend to that if I want to. My grades are high enough for me to pick. I just don't know what Darry will say about it. I know he wants better things for me; I am the one who is supposed to leave this neighborhood, to make something of my life.

I put the cigarette out by throwing it in a glass jar filled with water. The ember sizzles when it hits the surface, and I think of the fires again. The one in Windrixville, the one eight months ago, the one I sometimes picture I have inside me. I don't want it. I wish things could just be like they are.

I rise, walk through the back door, through the laundry room and hallway, into my own room at the end of it. The day after court, when the judge gave Darry custody back, I moved back in here. Told Soda I could sleep in my own bed.

That was not really true. Not then, not today, but I'm seventeen now. There are so many things I should be able to handle, and I think that if I just shut up about them, maybe I will one day. My brothers don't have to know how I feel before then.

I go to my bookshelf and take down a book, not caring which. I don't read so much for pleasure anymore, just to silence all the other thoughts in my head. Read about someone elses problems and forget my own for a while. Not that I have any problems. Life is fine and dandy, as Two-Bit would have said. I grimace for myself.

"How did it go?"

I look up from my book, surprised at how much time has passed, since Darry is home without me noticing it. He stands in the doorway to my room, still dressed in his work clothes. There is an open eagerness in his face, he doesn't even try to hide it.

I tap my fingers on the book cover, regretting telling him about the scouts. Of course he would ask, but there is no way I will tell him that I stood over. He wouldn't understand, would only ask me why. And what would I say then?

"I... guess it could've gone better."

He smiles. "I'm sure you did fine."

It feels like a needle is stuck into my heart. Whatever I say now will hurt him, and he has been hurt enough. Maybe the truth will hurt the most, I don't know.

"I didn't, actually. The others have practiced longer than I have."

He winces a little. Every time something reminds us of my years away, a noticeable pain flickers in his eyes. It will always follow us, our past, the reason I didn't run track for two years. The past that makes the lies fit into my mouth as they never have before.

"It's fine, Darry," I say, forcing a smile. "I did my best. It's not my last chance or anythin'. I still have the meets."

He nods, relieved over what I offer him. "I know it's not. Next time, right?"

"Yeah."

"Don't worry. I know you'll make it to college. Just keep your grades up."

He smiles, and I smile bigger too, glad he can't see how fake it is.

xXx

I close the front door behind my back, and after a second thought, I turn around and lock it. Then I unlock it again, knowing no one has keys with them. We never used to lock the door before, and I hardly think they have started with it now.

I take a step back and watch it. Just look at it. Almost hear the knocks, sure that Mr. Syme called again after my talking to him today. Why wouldn't he? I should just stay away from him, not give him any reasons as I did before.

I still stand there staring when the door suddenly opens, and Two-Bit walks inside. We both jump in surprise, but he catches himself first.

"Pony?" he says, and I move away.

"Just thought I heard a noise," I say, ears red, trying to make it sound true. But I can tell by Two-Bit's eyes he's not really listening anyway. There is something sparkling in them, something mischievously, and I know he's up to something. Before I know it, he shoves a bundle into my arms.

"What's this?" I shake the fabrics out and find them to be a green, short-sleeved shirt and a pair of black pants. "What?"

He grins big. "I got myself a job."

"You didn't!"

Two-Bit throws himself down onto the couch. "Sure did!"

I give the clothes a double take. "Ain't this what they wear at the grocery shop Darry used to go to?"

"Look good, don't they?" He places his feet on the coffee table. "I'll be the best lookin' guy in the bunch."

I glance between the clothes in my hand and my friend.

"Don't look at me like that," he grins. "I swear I ain't sick. Just a poor guy. Could use some money."

"But, um..."

"You think I can't stock shelves and do the math at the cash register, Ponyboy? I didn't go to school for nothin'."

I put the clothes down on the coffee table, taking a step back. This is weird. Two-Bit and a job. It doesn't fit. He's supposed to be the eternal High Schooler, but now he's not in High School anymore. I knew that, though. It was my first day today, and I was alone. I just realize he must have graduated, but where was I then? I wasn't here. No one told me.

"Hey, what's -"

"It's great." I take another step back. "It really is."

"Don't throw a party in here just because of that, kiddo." Then he sighs, snatches the shirt and rises. I feel him following me into the kitchen. "So how was it to go back to good ol' Will Rogers?"

Strange. People staring. Had to change my schedule and ran into to Mr. Syme.

But I go with the standard answer. "Fine."

I can practically hear him rolling his eyes.

"So when's your first day?" I ask, turning around and leaning myself against the counter. Change the subject. Like he would allow that.

"Seriously, Pony," he says, and everyone has grown up a bit in my absence. Even him.

"Seriously what?"

"It went okay? I mean, Steve and I ain't there to back you up anymore."

"I don't need that." I shove one hand down into my pocket. "I've been alone before."

He cringes at that, and I almost do too. I was alone...

"So you finally graduated?" I say quickly.

"Shoot, I didn't actually 'graduate'." He makes quotation-marks in the air, still holding the shirt in his hand. "Wasn't allowed to stay."

"They kicked you out?"

"Let's call it an agreement." He sits down in a kitchen chair. "Was too old for that place anyway. My new place on the other hand -"

"You got a diploma?"

He glances at me. "I got somethin' for my mom to nail up on the wall."

I clench the hand in my pocket, looking down. "Steve, too?"

"He got better grades than me so they might even have framed it."

I want to ask him if they celebrated. If they stood in front of everybody in gowns and caps, if my brothers were there to watch. But I don't. I wasn't there, and we can't change the time. What does it matter? I already knew their lives moved on without me.

I move my head to flick my hair out of my eyes.

"So... um, grocery store?" I try again, ignoring the deep pit in my stomach. I'm used to it.

So... here's the sequel! I really hope you will like it. The story starts 1 year after Pony got home, the cursive text can be both back or forth in time. I hope it won't be too confusing. I will try to be clear.

Thank you for reading, and please let me know what you think.

I don't own The Outsiders.