The thing about cliff hangers is that, as much as the readers hate them, the authors hate them 10x worse. I have so many good ideas, but I can't til tomorrow so that I don't seem desperate, or like I have no life (ok...maybe a little) but I don't really give a crap. If you guys love the outsiders, I'm probably a good person to follow. Its all I've written about/planned to write about. Enjoy chapter 3!
"No. He's not dead, Two-Bit Matthews" Darry attempted to put as much menace in his voice as possible. He had never hated anyone more as he did the pitiful, hunched-over boy who stood in front of him.
Two-Bit winced as his nickname (something he had always taken pride in) slithered like a venomous snake through Darry's teeth.
"Get out! And I don't want to see you! Just leave, Keith." The man in the mickey mouse shirt shifted uncomfortably.
"Darry, he didn-" Sodapop tried to interject, but Darry snapped at him and then turned his anger back to Two-Bit.
"Leave. Now." Two-Bit looked up from the ground finally, and squared his shoulders.
"No." His voice was quiet, but the husky intonation made it sound more intimidating.
Darry, who had been trying to ignore Two-Bit, snapped his head to face him once more. He stood up imposingly as he said in his most dangerously calm voice "What?"
"NO!" Said Two-Bit, more forcefully this time. "He's my brother too."
"You don't abandon your brother! You don't leave your younger, 14 year old brother alone when he needs help, just so you can go down to a stupid gas station and get drunk!" Two-Bit was hurt by this, but he tried to keep his composure.
"Well, you don't hit your younger 14 year old brother either! You don't yell at him until he thinks that you hate him! Some brother you are!" Darry, who had begun pacing, froze.
He's right, Darry thought. All of this comes back to me, no matter how far back you go. I forced Pony to leave, killing Johnny and Dally. I yelled at him, making him feel unwelcome. Even if you go back years and years, to when our parents had died, it had been me that had persuaded them to go out, all because I had wanted to go out and get drunk with some buddies that night.
Two-Bit walked out of the room, his derisive snort punctuated by the slam of the door.
Sodapop grabbed Darry's arm. He turned Darry to face him. What he saw shocked him beyond anything that horrible day. There was one pearly tear sliding down Darry's cheek
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Darry did not cry easily. And yet in that short 24 hours, he had cried twice. Once was reasonable. Pony was injured, he could be dying. He wanted to die. But if Darry was crying because of what somebody said to him, it must have really dug deep with him
Soda gaped for a second, then he just pulled Darry into an embrace. He noticed with a pang that Darry smelled just like Pony. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that he was holding a taller, broader PonyBoy.
Soda never would admit it, but he liked Pony better. He had an inkling that Darry knew this, but it hurt so much to think about, he never dwelled on it.
And now, his younger brother was in an ambulance (which he and Darry had been forbidden to enter) and his oldest brother was clinging to him as though Soda were his life-line.
"Darry, Two-Bit is just upset. At himself. He thinks he let Pony down, and he's blaming you for it." This was obviously the wrong thing to say.
"No, Soda. He's right. I ain't done nothing for that kid and I pushed him to this point. His breaking point-" His voice cracked, remembering Two-Bit's words after Dally had died.
"So even Dallas Winston has a breaking point."
So even Darry Curtis has a breaking point.
