*PoV Ponyboy*
Fag. Fruit. Fairy. Homo.
I hear these words every day, but I don't see why people say them. I know it's not okay, in societies eyes, to be gay. And I've with that fact since I was two. But my mom was deeply against the homophobes, since her brother, Kevin, was brutally murdered for being gay. My dad had the philosophy that everyone deserved love, no matter what gender you are or what gender you fall in love with.
"Fag" was never said in my house. Not after what happened with Sodapop. He had gotten mad at Darry for being mean to me, so he screamed, "YOU COME AND TAKE IT LIKE A MAN, FAGGOT!" My mom had been so mad that she spanked Soda. It was the first time anyone had laid a hand on him in a mean way. Soda couldn't sit for three hours.
After they died, we continued on, not saying the word. But it never came into our life, anyway, and Sodapop said it never would.
Until now.
Soda kept hounding me about girls at school, and how come I hadn't been out on a date yet. I had always said I wasn't ready. But it got me thinking. Maybe I was… NO! I'm not! I'd always think. I couldn't be. It would mean death.
Dally and Two-Bit would ask if I'd been laid yet, causing me to flush crayola red. I'd say "No, and even if I had, it's none of your damn business."
But a while after Windrix Ville, after Johnny got his back fixed, gone to jail, and then gotten out, Soda started getting worried. He said that I had to get a girlfriend, had to find someone to settle down with. He said that he couldn't take care of me forever. I assured him that I'd look for one. I was fifteen then, in my second year of high school.
Then, about a year later, I started having the dreams. I would wake up panting, with a throbbing pain at my groin. I'd run into the bathroom, do myself up, and go back to bed. I'd wake up exhausted, and I could never remember who the dream contained, but I knew, I just knew, it was a sexual dream. For the first time in ever, I had started having wet dreams, but I would wake up before they finished. Good thing too, since I still shared a bed with Soda. I didn't have them every night, but they were becoming more frequent.
I noticed that Johnny would stop talking when I came into the room, and everyone would look at me, like they all knew some secret that I wasn't allowed to hear. Or that I would have to wait to hear. I noticed how beautiful he was becoming, and I would find myself staring at him for hours. Then I find him staring at me, his eyes glazed over with some unknown emotion. Unknown to me that is. Soda would notice and give Johnny a little wake on the back of the head, like a stern mother.
I kept thinking that Johnny thought there was something wrong with me, with the way I looked. I would spend hours in the bathroom, looking for a hint of beard on my chin, or wondering why my shoulders hadn't broadened that much. I was still skinny, but I had grown taller. I was taller than Soda, nearly as tall as Darry. After I did my homework, you could find me in the bathroom, looking at myself. Why didn't I need to shave yet? How come I was so thin? Why was I so… feminine?
I walked into the kitchen one morning, to cook breakfast, to find Johnny curled up in a ball on the couch, quietly whimpering to himself. I walked over, my long legs casting thin shadows in the early morning sunlight. I kneeled down next to him, and he sniffed, looking at me. "Mornin', Pone."
"Mornin', Johnnycake," I said. "What y'all 'set about?"
"Nothing you'd understand."
I stood up abruptly. Great! I thought. Now even Johnny's acting like I'm inferior because I'm younger! "Well, that's wonderful, Cade. What do you want for breakfast?" It all came out in a snap. He sat up and I saw how small he still was. He had grown taller, but he was still a twig. Just like me. His big black puppy dog eyes shone with sadness, but it was too early in the morning for me to register that I was being cruel. It was just too early.
I stomped into the kitchen in my boxers and tank top, opened the fridge and took out the eggs and cake. Johnny followed and sat at the little table in the corner. His eyes followed me from underneath his shaggy bangs, kind of creeping me out. I slammed an egg down on the counter top and turned to face him. "What do you want, why are you being so…. Urg!"
"I love you," he said.
I sighed. "Johnny, I love you, too, but it doesn't explain the way you've been acting."
"No, Ponyboy, I really love you."
I shook my head in confusion. A flickering light bulb was turning on over my head. He loved me… he really loved me…
Oh, God.
Oh, freakin', God.
I took a step backwards, towards the open flame on the oven.
"Pony… You-"
"No!" I didn't mean for it to come out like the way it did. Shouted. I backed up more.
And burned my hand.
"EEEEOOUUUCCCCHHHHH!"
I hoped away from the fire, waving my hand back and forth. I bumped into Johnny, who managed to catch me before we fell to the floor. I landed on top of him, my lips pressed against his. Johnny whimpered under me, and I felt him harden under my leg. I pushed myself up and away from him, cradling my injured hand. He sat so the bulge in his pants wasn't so obvious, but I knew it was there. My eyes were wide, wider than his, if it was possible.
I heard feet walking to the kitchen, and Darry, Dally, Soda and Steve were all in the door frame, looking in on us. If I was as pale as I felt, which I was, I could have contributed it to the burn. But I was suddenly realizing who my dreams had contained.
Johnny.
No.
No.
No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.
No, it couldn't be Johnny.
Could it?
"Pone?" Johnny asked quietly.
Everyone was looking at me. I stood up and walked calmly to the bathroom, where I ran my hand under luke-warm water and gathered my thoughts. I wrapped my hand and walked back outside where they were all waiting.
"So?" Dally asked.
"So, what?" I snapped.
"Do you like me back?" Johnny said this so quietly I barely heard it.
I looked at him. The kiss had sent sparks into my body, and the dreams were the most fun I'd had in a long time. I walk over to him and kneel in front of him. Dally, next to Johnny, stiffens.
"If you have to ask, you'll never know," I said. "If you know, you need only ask."
Johnny smiled, and for the first time in two years, it reached his eyes.
So. Now that the stories over, you must be wondering, "Why did he start with the back story about the bad words?"
I did that to show the things that I was called.
To show the things that were thrown at me every day at school.
To show how horrible people can be.
But I don't care.
I have my Johnny.
I have my love.
We fight the world together.