-Ponyboy's POV-
I was walking home from school on the last day. It relieved me that it was finally summertime. School wasn't all that was cracked up to be these days. Huh, when is it ever? I turned in my English semester theme for Mr. Simes and was glad that I passed. Knowing that two of my friends, Johnny and Dallas were dead had really taken my will to do well in school, even with Darry on my back every minute of the day. I was thinking what I was going to do this summer, when my friend Two-Bit caught up to me.
"Hey Ponyboy!" he said, ruffling my hair. I swatted his hand away, laughing.
"Lay off, Two-Bit," I said. Two-Bit smiled michieviously.
"What? Ain't ya glad that school finally over?" he said. I looked up him, slightly surprised. Two-Bit had a reputation at school that included always flunking every year. He was now nineteen, for Pete's sake and he was still in his junior year. I'm going to be a sophmore next year, and I'm going to be fifteen. He flunks for the fun of it; he never has anything better to do.
"How come you're so happy? You're going to be a junior next year for all I care. What are you going to do now that there is no school?" I challenged him. He looked as though he were pretending to think about it.
"I dunno," he said carelessly. We both laughed, then raced each other towards my house. Darry was at work, and Lord knows where Sodapop was; he can't really stay in one place for too long now. Me and Two-Bit went inside, and Two-Bit just plopped down onto the sofa, turning on the TV. I went over to the kitchen and got me a Pepsi, then sat down next to Two-Bit, who was flipping through channels. After a while of this, I took to staring out the window waiting for my brothers to get home. Five minutes later, Soda came in, supported by Steve. Soda was looking dazed, grinning even wider then the Chesire cat, and when Steve let him go, he stumbled dangerously. I ran over to him and helped him on his I carried him towards the couch and sat him down. I looked at Steve, waiting for an explanation. Steve put up his hands.
"Not my fault. Nobody told us that the drinks were full of alchohol," he said, sitting next to Two-Bit. I looked out the window and smirked turning toward Steve.
"You wanna try and explain it to Darry?" I said. Steve thought this was one of my pranks. He ignored me and just stared at the television. "I'm serious, Steve," I continued. "Darry's about to come in." Steve scoffed.
"Yeah right, Pony. Nice try. But even if he was coming, you're carrying Soda. He wouldn't know it was me who took him to that one party we wen-" That was as far as Steve got before Darry came in, staring at Steve, looking furious.
"You WHAT?!" he shouted at Steve. Steve cowered.
"Oh shit," he whispered. Then he stood up suddenly and bolted towards the back door, Darry right behind him. The yell of pain from Steve was heard even from the living room. After a moment, Darry came back in, but Steve wasn't behind him.
"Hey Dar, what'cha do to Steve," Two-Bit asked. Darry gave him that clearly said I beat the living hell out of him. So we didn't press on. Soda looked up at us, as though seeing us for the first time.
"H-hey Pony," he said drunkly, messing up my hair. Great, I thought. That's the second time today. "Hey you look real wierd." He laughed. Darry sat down beside Soda. Soda looked at him, still smiling.
"Hey Dar, how's it going man?" he said. Darry looked concerned.
"Are you alright, Soda?" he asked. Then he stuck up three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?" Soda looked at him wierdly. Then smiled again.
"Hey Darry, I didn't know you had six fingers on each hand," he said, looking at Darry's three fingers. Looking back up at Darry, his eyes widened slightly in astonishment. "And I also didn't know that ya had a twin brother. Man, why don't you guys tell me these things?" He laughed again.
-Darry's POV-
I was getting a bit worried. My brother never used to drink alchohol. Then, without warning, Soda's smile disappeared, and he stood up and ran for the bathroom. We could hear Soda being sick in the living room, and I stood up and went to the after him. Soda was grabbing onto the sides of the sink and leaning against it. He was shaking something fierce, so I ran over and put my arm around him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. I kept my arm around Soda until his shaking stopped. I was scared for Sodapop. Ever since Dally and Johnny's deaths, he was getting more reckless. He was still his happy-go-lucky self, but now he was doing more then just getting drunk at parties.
He gets mad constantly. Whenever me and Ponyboy try to get him to explain what was wrong, he breaks down crying, but he doesn't answer. He stays out later then his curfew, and when I ask him where he's been, he back-talks, saying 'it was none of my fuckin' business' everytime.
Now, he goes to under-21 parties and gets drunk often. I helped him to his feet and brought him to his room.
"Come on, Soda," I said softly. He would stumble on the way there, but I kept him steady. In his room, I carefully laid him on the bed. He fell asleep quickly. I quietly closed the door and went downstairs into the living room. I sat down on the couch with a tired sigh. Ponyboy, who was reading nearby, looked up.
"Hey Darry, how's Soda doin'?" he asked. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.
"He'll be fine. He'll have an aching head in the morning, though," I said. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Pony looking extremely worried. I went over to him and hugged him gently. I knew what he was feeling. He hugged me back.
"What's gonna happen to him, Darry?" he said in a quivering voice. He was shaking slightly. He was crying. I wish I knew what was gonna happen to Sodapop. I didn't know what to say to my youngest brother. Finally, I just sighed and said, "I don't know Pony. I don't know."