Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders.

"It's still hard to believe that he's gone," Steve commented as we looked at the stone that marked our friend, Sodapop's grave. "I still expect to hear Darry say that Soda's returning and things wil be like they were."

I didn't reply as I laid the flowers my mom had picked from her garden on the grave. It was never easy going to the grave site.

"Chris, did Ponyboy say why he didn't want to come with?" Steve looked at me.

"No," I replied. "Maybe it's still hard for him. It can't be easy to lose your parents, two close friends and a brother in such a short period of time."

"I guess you're right," Steve sighed. "I just wish the kid wouldn't hold back what he's feeling so much. He should talk to Jeff."

"He doesn't know Jeff."

Steve knew what I meant. Even though Ponyboy had met Jeff several times, he didn't know him well enough to share just anything with him. Not like he could with Soda.

I glanced at Steve who was now looking at the stone that marked where Mr. and Mrs. Curtis were buried. He still looked like the tough greaser that Soda introduced me to when I first moved to Tulsa, but I had gotten to know him better over the past several months. It was hard to believe that I used to think that he didn't dig me and I felt guilty for thinking that he was a jerk. Once I got to know Steve, I found that he's a good guy and that he does care about his friends, including Ponyboy.

"Maybe you should talk to him," I suggested.

"What?"

"Why don't you talk to Ponyboy?" I asked. "He knows you and both of you were close to Soda."

"I don't know, Chris," Steve sighed. "I'm just not good at that sort of thing. Besides, I hardly see Pony anymore. Not unless he's with you."

"He's coming with us to youth group tomorrow," I said. "At least think about it."

"Alright, but I'm not making any promises."

I followed Steve to his car, knowing that he wasn't sure if Ponyboy would even listen to him if he tried to talk to him. They were never close, although they were getting along better. I guess neither of them knew how to talk about Soda.

"I forgot to thank you for coming here with me," Steve said as he drove out of the cemetery.

"It was no problem," I told him. "Soda was my friend, too."

Steve gave me a small grin. "Yeah, and if it weren't for him, we wouldn't be friends."

"If it weren't for Soda, I don't know where I'd be right now," I said.

Steve glanced at me.

"Maybe I would have ended up in Tim's gang," I continued.

Nah," Steve said. "You wouldn't have made it in the Shepard gang. You probably would have met Ponyboy at school and met the rest of us that way."

"Or our folks could have forced the two of us to do something together," I commented.

"I guess."

I turned my attention to the window and watched the houses and other buildings go by. Everything was familiar to me and it was hard to imagine life away from Tulsa. It almost seemed hard to believe that only a few years ago, I was still living in a small Minnesota town.

"Do you want to see what Two-Bit's up to?" Steve asked.

"Hasn't he been spending more time at Buck's?"

"Only on weekends," Steve replied. "He's been working at the bowling alley."

"I didn't know that," I said.

"You're usually at the DX while he's there," Steve explained. He had helped me get a job at the DX station shortly after I turned sixteen. Now, he worked Soda's old hours while I worked after school and on weekends.

"He should come to church with us," I said.

"Jeff and Aaron said to give him and Pony time," Steve reminded me.

"True," I agreed. "But Ponyboy comes with us sometimes. Two-Bit on the other hand, usually makes up some excuse not to go."

"He's come with us a few times."

Steve didn't mention that those few times were right after Soda's death. None of us knew how to react to the news. I had been glad to see Steve make the decision that Soda and I had made several months before Soda was killed. Even Ponyboy had made the decision, but he was having a harder time with it. Not that I blamed him. If I lost as many people as he had in a short period of time, I'd probably be questioning God, too.

I had surprised me when Steve had made the decision to accept Christ because he had made it clear that he wasn't going to decide anything unless he had the answers he wanted. He had always had his own ideas on things and liked them to go the way he wanted them to. But when Soda died, I guess Steve knew that he could no longer wait to make a decision. Life was too short, and losing his best friend was a cruel reminder of that.