CHAPTER TWO:

The minute that I step into Two-Bit's shaggy, piece of crap car he and Steve immediately start asking questions:

"Are you okay?"

"Heard that Kenya broad was taken to The Project." Steve shudders at the thought of the large building a few miles from the school. "They seem to be takin' more everyday."

"No shit," Two-Bit adds hastily, blowing a puff of smoke from a cigarette into Steve's face. "I ain't gonna be surprised when they take one of us too."

"Speaking of which," Steve says, turning around in his seat to look directly at me. "You been called in to talk yet, Soda?" His tone is mocking, full of clear laughter; but I take it different.

I've taken a lot of things differently since my brother died in my arms three months ago.

"Both of you, shut the hell up!" I snap, not in the mood to talk. I just want to be home, and much to my relief we drive away from the school in silence.

We manage to make it into my driveway until Steve breaks the silence. "You gonna talk or what?"

"Steve," Two-Bit says, warning clear in his voice as he shoots me a glance from the corner of his eye. "Don't you dare say anything about you-know-what."

Steve's mouth flattens into a hard straight line as he turns to face Two-Bit. My hand is gripping the handle of the car door tightly, and I'll do whatever I have too in order to get out of this car if things get ugly between them. But Steve just sends Two-Bit a glare and then returns his attention to me, his eyes narrowing. "Why ain't you talkin' to anyone no more, Soda? Brother's death got you tied up?" He smirks at his comment, knowing all good and well he's pissing me off.

I lurch forward and grab Steve's neck tightly in my hand, cutting off his air supply to let him know I'm seriously pissed and I'll break his neck if I have too. I'll do anything to get him to shut up about my brother's death. "Fuck you, man. Fuck you." I say and release his neck from my grasp, climbing out of the car and walking up to my house without another word to either of them.


Two-Bit:

I watch Soda go inside his house and slam the door behind him, the sound being heard through the thick material of my car.

I hear Steve sigh and look over at him, finding him sitting against the window with a hand over his eyes. "I think I fucked up, Two-Bit."

I let out a snort at his words. "You fucked up bad, man. Real bad."

"Damn it." Steve says and removes his hand from his eyes to wipe at his face harshly, even though he has nothing on it. "Should I go apologize?"

I shake my head. If I know Soda, it's that it takes him a day or two to cool down with anything Steve says about his brother or family all together. "Not right now, anyway. But he's sure to get over it within a day or two, 'cause that's how his brain work nowadays."

"He hasn't been the same, though." Steve says, watching as rain begins to fall on the windows of my car, small drops of water gliding across the windows like they're dancing or chasing each other all the way down to the bottom. "It's like we've lost him ever since Pony killed himself three months ago..."

I allow silence to step in between us for a moment before I place a hand on Steve's shoulder, knowing how much it hurts to lose a best friend. "I know, man." I say, tears stinging my eyes at the thought of Ponyboy's casket being lowered down into the ground again. "I know..."


Soda:

"Why're you staring out the window, Soda?"

I turn away from looking out the window to find my brother Darry leaning against the wall that leads to our bedrooms. One of them is empty and it will probably never be opened again; that one room is my younger brother, Pony's.

Pony killed himself about three months ago from unknown reasons; neither Darry or myself have ever found out the reason that led him to kill himself, but from what officials say it was to avoid from getting sent to The Project. At the time -when both Darry and I were still having a hard time believing he was dead- I had merely scoffed, said a couple of rude words in the guy's face and had to be pushed out of the office by Darry in order to not leap at the guy and demand an actual, logical answer.

I look out the window again, avoiding my brother's eyes. "Nothin', just thinking."

"About?"

I turn my head to look at him again, my mouth pressed into a thin line. "I dunno, just stuff..." I let out an aggravated sigh and rub my eyes, suddenly feeling tired. "Why do you care anyway? It ain't like I'm doing anything to cause us harm."

My only living brother's eyes flash with hurt for a moment and I see him slightly flinch at my words. "You're my only brother now, Soda... I-I guess I just don't want you to end up like..." He stops abruptly, captured in his memories.

I quickly move to Darry's side and clasp him on the shoulder, shaking him gently to get him out of his daze. "You're okay, Dar." I say, smiling weakly at him in an attempt to seem happy. "Nothin' bad is gonna happen to me. I can assure you."

He nods absentmindedly, mumbling to himself under his breath. I let him stay there by the wall, while I go into my room -my parents old one, to be exact. Digging under my bed for something I haven't used in a long time and wanting to get away from my thoughts, I grab one of Pony's old journals and read the last line of the final page.

Tears sting my eyes as I read the last sentence my brother had written before he out that gun to his head and pulled the trigger:

I'm just fucking tired and I feel like ending it... At least then I'll be some place where I belong.

Well, I think you got what you wished for, Pony.