AN: Well, this was originally just going to be a oneshot, but then I actually got an idea, and I figured, "What the heck, I'll make it a short story."

Anybody else doing NaNoWriMo this year? I'm trying to write one, but I have absolutely zero creativity to come up with my own plot. Which is why I write Fan Fiction. It's a hell of a lot easier…

Anyway.

As always, many many thanks to my friend who takes the time to turn what I write into something that faintly resembles actual English.

Oh yeah, almost forgot:

Disclaimer of the Disclaimer dynasty: I own nothing…. Although I have a feeling that you wouldn't want to sue me anyway….

In our house, you're never sure who you're going to see sitting on the couch in the morning. And usually they never scare you half to death, but something tells me that day was just not my best.

When I walked into my living room, I was sort of focused only on buttoning up my shirt. So when I heard someone move from the couch, I didn't think, I only acted. Basically by grabbing something to throw and turning toward… whoever.

Steve moved the newspaper away from his face and looked at me with an annoyed expression. "Put down the damn lamp, Soda."

I sighed in relief and put down the damn lamp. Then I sat down next to my friend and grudgingly apologized. "Sorry, man. I guess I just haven't been myself lately."

"You think?" he said. "I know you're usually up before the others, but you never tried to attack me before." He folded up his newspaper and stood up. "That's actually why I came to talk to you."

A word to the wise: when Steve Randle says, "I want to talk to you," most of the time, that means, "Run as fast as you can in the other direction and hope he doesn't find you."

Steve didn't beat around the bush, either. "You need to stop worrying about Sandy. I'm not no doctor, but I got a feeling it ain't healthy."

I sighed and dropped my head into my hands, defeated. Maybe a few people had figured it out, after all. "It's not that easy, Steve."

"I didn't say anything about easy."

My head shot up. I wasn't sure where he was going with this, but I knew already I didn't like it.

His voice laced with venom, he continued, "We've all been through some bad break-ups, man. Well, maybe not Pony, but you get the idea. You know they're never the end of the world. You know it's possible to get back up again. And- and I don't know what else, but… At what point do you decide maybe you've had enough?"

A pause.

"And at what point do you decide maybe she's not the one for you?"

I stood and whammed him in the stomach.

"I wanted to marry her, Steve."

My friend was, amazingly, still standing, grimacing in pain and trying not to swear too badly. I guessed I respected him for that. Anyone who can stand a punch from a well-trained greaser has guts. However, that all disappeared in a flash of red when he finally muttered, "You wanted to…?"

I hauled back and hit him again. "You really don't get it, do you? No one has ever made me feel the way I do about her- the way I've always felt about her! But maybe that's just 'cause you've never loved anyone! You have no idea and you never will! You dig, Stevie boy?"

"Don't call me that!"

Then-

"Why are you guys yelling? It's five thirty in the morning!"

I saw Steve's eyes widen. Here we were, about ready to rip each other's throats out, and acting like we'd been caught skipping school or something. I turned around to face my older brother and said, "Sorry, Darry. It's nothing."

From behind me, I heard Steve murmur, "Damn. That would've been intense."

The look Darry gave him made it perfectly clear that it was time for him to go. But the second the door swung shut behind him, my brother rounded on my again. "So what was that all about?"

"I told you, it was nothing." Somehow, I managed to keep my voice steady.

And the really bad thing?

A part of me really wanted to tell him, just to let it all out.

But another part of me just wanted to forget about it all.

She took me for all I was worth.

Might I remind you, that ain't much at all.

A/N2: GAH! For some unexplainable reason, the ability to write longer chapters is beyond me.

But now for something totally different and unrelated:

I am going to do a little bit of unauthorized advertising here about Project PULL, which is the awesome idea of someone on Fan Fiction named bookaholic711. I won't write all of the rules out here, (you can go to their profile for that) but basically it's a challenge to post something every other Friday from 8/19/10 to 8/19/11. A whole year. (All you have to do to enter is send them a PM.) So I'm going to start picking up the pace here, assuming my schoolwork doesn't overwhelm me. Damn you Spanish class and your funness which is the only reason I keep going….

The basic idea of Project PULL (which stands for Push Ur Limits and Learn) is to power through it so that in a year, you can look back and say "I did it."

Bookaholic711, if you happen to be reading this: You are awesome for thinking of this idea in the first place.

St. Fang of Boredom, if you happen to be reading this: You are awesome for writing a chapter in your Poetry Corner telling us about it.

And now, I shall commence the age-old tradition among Fan Fiction writers: The asking of the reviewers to do your job and review already!

¡Gracias!