DISCLAIMER: The Outsiders belongs to S.E. Hinton. I own nothing.

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Behind Closed Doors

I

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Three months ago, my parents died.

I knew this the moment I woke up. The sky was grey, the house was silent, and the only sound I could hear was raindrops falling on the roof.

It was hard to get out of bed, and even harder to walk across the cold floor and into the bathroom to clean my teeth. Darry's bedroom door was closed, meaning he was still asleep. That's another reason why I knew. Darry was always the first one up in the morning.

When I finished cleaning my teeth I wiped the smudges of toothpaste off my face with my sleeve and walked into the kitchen. Ponyboy's shoes weren't beside the door where they always were. He must have gone for a run, even though he never runs this earlier. That's another reason why I knew.

Sodapop gave me a small smile as I entered the kitchen. He was standing in front of the oven, holding a flipper. Next to him, four pancakes were bubbling on the griddle. Four plain; not purple, pancakes. Another sign.

"Mornin', Joana," he said as he stuck the flipper under a pancake and turned it over.

My name is pretty weird, I guess. But then again, my Dad was pretty weird too, and he was the one who named me, after his mother. I winced when Soda called me by my name. He never called me Joana. He knew how much I hated my name ( and I really hated it.) only Darry ever called me Joana anymore.

"Mornin', Soda," I said back as I went over to the fridge and took out a carton of apple juice and set it on the table. Sodapop reached into the cupboard and handed me a glass. I didn't say anything about the pancakes.

I poured myself a glass of juice and went into the living room. The couch was bare and the television wasn't on. That's another reason why I knew, because there's always someone here in the morning, usually Two-Bit watching cartoons or Steve sleeping on the couch.

I sat down on the floor next to the coffee table. Yesterday's newspaper was strewn across the couch and floor; Soda must have torn it up looking for the sports section again. I finished my juice and went to gather up the scattered papers. I didn't want Soda to get in trouble. Not today.

As I bent over to get the comics page from under the couch, I heard the creak of the front door opening. I looked over to see Ponyboy slip into the house and shut the door quietly behind him.

Ponyboy's face was flushed and twisted and his cheeks looked glossy, like they always did after he cried. He reached down to untie the laces on his shoes, which I noticed, were splattered with mud. I knew instantly that he'd gone to visit Mom and Dad. It was always wet and muddy in the cemetery after it rained.

Ponyboy stood back up and ran his fingers through his brown hair, which was slick and mussed from running. He let out a noisy sigh and walked stiffly toward his bedroom. I watched him leave, a cold feeling forming in my stomach. I wish I'd said something to him.

Darry stumbled in from the bathroom, his hair clean and his work clothes still damp from his shower. His face looked tight and pale, like when he pulls a muscle in his back and then stands up too fast. There were lines on his forehead and under his eyes, making him look much older than his twenty years.

When he noticed me, his expression seemed to twist into a forced look. "Come and eat your breakfast, Joana Beth," he said to me. His voice was as tight as his face. Darry always calls me by my first and second name. It makes him sound more like a parent to me than a brother.

I got up and made to go into the kitchen, but Darry cleared his throat and pointed to the coffee table.

"Sorry." I went over and picked up my empty glass. Darry hated it when any of us left our empty dishes in the living room. He said it was unsanitary and would attract animals. I dumped my glass in the sink and sat down at the table next to Ponyboy's empty seat.

Sodapop set a plate of pancakes in front of me and started to cut them up, because I still had trouble using a knife. I stared down at the pancakes and swallowed. My stomach was telling me not to eat them. They were too plain and sad and un-Sodapop-like.

Darry leaned over behind me, and I felt him pull back my hair and start to comb it, like he did every morning while I ate breakfast. Just like Mom used to. I could feel him jerk and tug the comb when he came across a knot, and I heard him grunt in frustration.

"Look at your hair. It's redder than Ponyboy's," Darry said quietly when he'd finished combing it. He put down the comb and pushed back my hair with his fingers. "I forgot that you need a haircut… it's almost to the middle of your back now."

"I don't want a haircut," I told him, which is what I always say when he tells me I need a haircut. Mom always liked my long curly hair, so I didn't want anyone to cut it. I ran my fingers through my hair when Darry was finished to muss it up a bit.

Darry shook his head and went to sit beside Sodapop, who was pouring syrup over his pancakes then folding them up and eating them like tacos. He picked up his mug of coffee and took a long drink, his eyes staring at the wall.

I heard a door close shut and Ponyboy walked into the room and sat quietly beside me. I noticed that his face was cleaned off and he'd fixed up his hair. Ponyboy's nose scrunched up when he looked at his pancakes. I knew he was thinking the same thing I was.

"Eat your breakfast. You're gonna be late for school," Darry said as he took another sip of coffee.

Ponyboy picked up a fork and started to eat. I looked down at my pancakes again. They weren't Soda's pancakes, and I wasn't going to eat them. I wrinkled my nose and shook my head, and pushed my plate away from me.

"I don't wanna eat them."

I didn't have to look at Darry's face to know it was going all twisted and tight, like it did when was trying to figure something out. "You'll be hungry if you go to school with an empty stomach." He said.

I shook my head. "I'm not going to school."

Darry looked at Sodapop. Soda wiped the syrup off his chin and turned to face me. "Why not? School's ending in a few weeks for summer vacation."

"I don't care. I don't wanna go."

Darry and Soda shared another look. I knew they weren't going to make me go to school. Not today. They didn't make me go last month, either, or the month before that. Not on this day.

"I'll have one of the gang check in on her," Soda said to Darry. Darry nodded and picked up my plate and took it to the sink. His face didn't look tight anymore. He looked really tired.

Ponyboy finished eating and put his plate in the sink, then went to get his books and left to go to school without saying anything. He didn't look at any of us. Sodapop got up and went to change into his work clothes.

Darry looked at the growing pile of dirty dishes in the sink and the dust settling on the counter tops. He sighed heavily and grabbed his truck keys off the fridge, tucking them into his pocket as he bent over to pull on his shoes.

Darry looked up at me again. His eyes were cloudy and he looked sad and angry and helpless at the same time. Then he opened the door and walked out, closely followed by Sodapop, who was hopping on one foot to put his shoe on.

I heard dad's truck sputter a few times before roaring to life, and then the noise faded as it disappeared down the street, leaving me alone in the quiet, empty house.

"What's going on with you, Ponyboy? Your grades are getting worse! Look at this— a sixty-two in math? A seventy in English? You can do better than that. Haven't you been doing the homework they send you? All you're passing is gym!"

I lifted a forkful of macaroni to my mouth and chewed on it slowly, my eyes focused on the plate of golden-brown macaroni-and-cheese in front of me. I tried to pretend that I wasn't here, that I couldn't see Darry's angry face or Pony's sad eyes, and I couldn't hear Darry yell and scream at Pony.

It wasn't working. I swallowed hard and snuck a glance at Ponyboy. He was staring at the table hard, his face scrunched up like he was trying to hold something back. He was squeezing his fork so tight that his hand turned white. He hadn't touched his dinner.

It wasn't like this was strange anymore. Darry had been yelling at Ponyboy a lot lately. Too much, I think. He yelled about Ponyboy's grades the most, but Pony's the smartest in the family, and even I could see that he'd been doing bad in school.

"You're failing all your courses and your grades are sinking! Can't you at least pretend you care about that? Or at least give me a good explanation why your performance is dropping! Huh, Ponyboy? Can you tell me that?"

Darry paused and leaned over close to Ponyboy, waiting for him to speak. Pony didn't even look up at him. "Damnit, Ponyboy! I'm through playing guessing games with you!" and he made a fist and pounded it into the table with such force it made the dishes quiver and knocked over my glass of milk.

I stared at the puddle of milk streaming toward the edge of the table. Darry was still staring at Ponyboy, and didn't seem to know or care about the spill. I knew I should clean it up, but I didn't want to move. I was still trying to pretend I wasn't here.

I felt a hand touch my arm and looked up to see Soda holding a wad of paper towels. He started to mop up the mess, giving me a gentle, reassuring smile that told me I hadn't done anything wrong. Soda picked up my glass and refilled it with milk.

I stared at my macaroni and didn't say anything, even when it started to get cold and I should have eaten it. I kept stare at it as Ponyboy and Darry continued to argue back and forth, and I was still staring at it when Ponyboy stomped off to his room and Darry stormed off to the living room.

Then I blinked. I picked up my plate and Ponyboy's and scraped the cold macaroni into the garbage, then dumped them in the sink. I pushed a chair over to the sink, then turned on the hot water and picked up a dishrag. It was my turn to wash the dishes tonight.

I opened the back door and stumbled outside, heaving the full watering can behind me with both hands. The sun was just starting to set, and the sky was painted with pink and purple and gold and the clouds were thick and orange.

Ponyboy used to take me out to watch the sun set in the summer, and he would tell me all the colors in the sky and let me wish on the first star that appeared. But he stopped doing that.

I dragged the watering can across the grass toward the garden. Water sloshed around, trickling into the grass and soaking the front of my skirt. I tried to heave it up and carry it like Mom did. I almost dropped it.

Mom loved her garden. She used to spend all summer in the yard with her flowers. She had the best garden I'd ever seen, with yellow cosmos and black-eyed susans and purple lilacs and sunflowers and golden marigolds. It was most beautiful in summer, when all the flowers were in bloom.

I could still see my Mom in the garden, wearing her sun hat and with dirt smeared on her hands and skirt. After she'd gone, no one had bothered to do anything with the garden. So I took care of it. Mom would have wanted me to.

I tipped the watering can over so the water rained onto the flowers. Mom used to only water the roots, but I liked to watch the water droplets trickle off the petals like tears.

I made sure to water every flower, then I set the watering can down and sat in the grass and stared at the garden. It didn't look like Mom's did. Some of the flowers had wilted, the lilacs weren't as purple, and the cosmos were starting to die. The golden marigolds hadn't bloomed yet.

The marigolds were Mom's favorite flower. She loved to watch them bloom and before they started to wilt she would pick some and put them in a vase on the table or close them in a book so they'd stay soft and bright for another few months.

I wished the marigolds would bloom. When the blossom opened it looked just like Mom's hair, gold and silky and shimmering. I wanted to remember Mom's hair. Maybe I could even pick some and hide them in the books in my room. I couldn't put them in a vase on the table. Darry wouldn't let me.

I kept watching the flowers until the sun disappeared and the sky filled with stars. I kept watching them even when it became dark and cold and I started to shiver. I kept watching them even when the moon rose high in the sky and silver light glinted on the flowers.

Then Darry yelled for me to come in and get ready for bed. I picked up the empty watering can and walked back to the house. I looked across the yard one last time, at the garden Mom had loved so much.

I'm sorry, Mom

First Outsiders story.. any thoughts? (: