PONYBOY'S POV

Mom and Dad had always called me their 'wayward son'. I hadn't really understood what the phrase meant for a long time. They always used it when I was in trouble or being stubborn about something, which I honestly was a lot. As much as I loved my parents, I tended to be at odds with them. Kind of like with Darry.

Now they've been gone for four years. I've turned eighteen. I'm going to college. And honestly, I think there's more truth in that statement than there's ever been.

See, sometimes freedom can go to a person's head and they take it too far. Me, I was enjoying the fact that I didn't have Darry or the state breathing down my neck anymore. I was enjoying living away from home in a college dorm. And I was taking advantage of the lack of rules. As long as I sent home good grades, Darry didn't need to know the level of partying and trouble I was getting into.

Vandalism was a huge part of what me and my friends were doing. We'd break in windows and key cars and spray paint and, well, just about anything else that came to mind. Generally we were pretty damn drunk.

I know, I know, 'Ponyboy what are you thinking?!'. That's just it. At the time, I wasn't thinking. I was just doing what I wanted in the moment, and damn, did it feel good. At least, sort of. There was a part of me that saw the lack of peace and fulfillment in my life, but I pushed that part of me way down and ignored it.

One day, I was supposed to write a paper in english about seeing past the illusion of society to the nitty-gritty reality that not everything was sunshine and rainbows. I thought I had this covered. I'd been a victim of that nitty-gritty reality my whole life. The way I saw it, I'd risen above the noise and confusion and that I'd seen beyond what the whole world wanted me to see. So I wrote the paper and got an incredible grade. It was really just a repeat of several papers I'd written before.

I guess, in a way, that was the start of my downward spiral. I'd been climbing higher and higher, and at this point, I felt like I was on top of the world. But I wasn't really. I'd really just gotten, well, I guess we could call it 'too high'. I'd hit a point where I felt invincible. I didn't think anything could touch me.

Yeah. Wayward son.

Honestly, I may have known the truth and answers to that lesson once, but not anymore. My eyes could see. They had seen. But I was blind again now. I'd forgotten the most important lesson of all. I still logically knew it. I swear I did. But I was crazy enough to start thinking it applied to everyone but me.

No one is invincible. And, eventually, the universe is going to come get you if it thinks you've been too comfortable for too long.

I guess I was too comfortable for too long.

See, I went to this party. It was a frat party, the worst kind. Or, by my way of thinking, the best kind. I swear all I intended to do was drink a few beers and leave. Instead, I got into a drinking contest and when I finally left and climbed in my car, I was so drunk I'd be willing to swear there were three of everything and it was all three feet to the right of where it really was.

Yeah, can you imagine how that turned out?

See, I hit a pole. And a brick wall. And a couple other cars. I damaged my car basically beyond repair and banged myself up pretty good too.

I hunted down a pay phone and called the first person that came to mind. Sodapop. Him and Steve had got an apartment together a couple months ago, so at least I wouldn't have to worry about Darry answering the phone.

"Hello?" He sounded like he'd just woke up and was kind of pissed about it. I'd forgot it was about four in the morning.

"Hey, Soda? It's Ponyboy."

"What's up, kiddo?" His voice was more urgent now. There weren't a ton of reasons he could think of that I'd be calling him at this time of night, and none of them were good. And that was without him knowing what I'd been getting up to.

See, I'd spent the last six months lying to him and Darry like there was no tomorrow. I told them I spent a lot of time at the library and the movie theater like I used to. I didn't tell them about the fights and the drinking and the girls and the vandalism. I played it off like I was still being a good boy, like I had a purpose in life, in what I was doing. In reality, I'd lost all purpose. I really didn't know what I was doing anymore. And that scared me.

"Soda, I wrecked my car…"

"You what?"

"...against a pole… and a brick wall… and some other cars… It ain't really runnin' anymore." I was slurring my words so bad and I knew it, but I just couldn't help it.

Soda knew I was drunk. He heard it too, and he knew. "Kiddo, how much booze did you have?"

"I dunno." I muttered. "I got in a drinking contest with this guy, and… I dunno. I lost count. Oh, who gives a damn, this is normal."

Yeah, shouldn't have said that.

"What d'you mean, 'this is normal'? What the hell kind of normal is this?"

"Trust me, Sodapop. I know what I'm doing." No I didn't. A bigger lie hadn't been told in the history of man.

And he knew it. "Like shit you know what you're doin'. What is going on with you, Ponyboy?"

I was all set to lie my ass off some more, but, for some reason, I just couldn't do it all of a sudden. "I - I don't know."

There was a pause on the other end. "Why?"

"Hell if I know, Sodapop. I've been crazy lately. Honestly, I think they're gonna expel me."

"Whoa. Okay. That can't happen, and you know it. Darry'll kill you. And don't even get me started on what I'll do."

"Soda, am I a failure?" Don't question my logic. Drunk people do and say and think weird things.

"No, Pone, you ain't a failure. What the hell made you think that?"

"I dunno. I was always supposed to be the one who went somewhere and made somethin' of myself, but I haven't. Not really. All I've done is move out and party. I honestly don't know how my grades are still okay."

"Ponyboy, if you know it's wrong, then why are you still doin' it?" Soda wasn't angry like you'd think. He was being calm and rational. I guess he was trying to get me to think through what I was doing, something I'd been doing my best to avoid since I'd started. He knew that if I really went through it step-by-step, I would quit. I'd know it was dumb and I would quit.

"Soda, there's somethin' about it that's so great. You wouldn't know, you've never tried it. But it calls to you. Once you've started, ya don't wanna quit. Nothing really compares." I don't know who I was trying to convince at this point, him or me.

"Ponyboy, you listen and you listen good. You are gonna stop. Right now. I'm gonna come get you and bring you back to my place. You are gonna stay here while I write some of the other schools that were willing to take you and get you enrolled in one of them. You are gonna quit the university of Oklahoma and go someplace else. Once we have you all settled, then we'll tell Darry. Now, is there any part of this that don't make sense to you?"

"Why do I have to leave school?" I didn't understand. I liked it just where I was. Maybe too much.

"Because, those people are the reason you got outta hand in the first place. You need to get away from them."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Soda laughed suddenly. "Y'know what this reminds me of?"

"What?"

"What Mom and Dad always used to call you. I can't remember the word. Started with a w?"

I smiled too. "Wayward."

Soda showed up to get me after about an hour (I don't even want to think about all the laws he broke doing that) and we followed his plan to a t. Steve was a little pissed off about me staying at his and Soda's place and he bitched me out about it pretty good the first time we were alone. After that, though, he was weirdly supportive. It was like he'd filled his daily quota of being a dick and could be nice now. Soda got me into the university of Tulsa, saying that if I couldn't handle living in the dorms, I could always go home and live with Darry.

That was enough incentive to be good.

Telling Darry was an interesting experience. He didn't seem to care that I'd quit and gotten everything all straightened out. He just cared that I'd dropped out of college because I'd been partying too much and crashed my car. There was a lot of shouting, which ended in me telling him that I was eighteen and I could do what I want and stomping out of the house. I called him later and apologized. We made up and everything went back to normal there. Or, at least, as normal as it ever gets between us.

I was happy with the move. I was happy with the new friends and probably my first steady girlfriend in two years. I finally felt like my life wasn't an empty hole anymore. It was like heaven.

And honestly, after everything that's ever happened to me, I'd say I deserved it.