Hey guys! Thank you sooooo much to everyone who reviewed my third chapter, even if it was only 2 people. But hey those two people are awesomeeeeeeeee. Im not going to be the kind of author that says " I demand 80,000 reviews before I update." Thanks so much to: Dylan'sSis101 and minato4ever. :D Now time for the disclaimer: I OWN ABSOLUTLEY NOTHING BESIDES MY OWN STORY :D S.E. HINTON OWNS THE REST.

Johnny POV

I was the last one up the next morning. Darry or Soda took my shoes off for me, I was happy they did, I didn't want to get mud on their couch. I heard Darry trying to quiet down the guys so I could sleep, but it wasn't working. I yawned sleepily and walked into the kitchen, I stood at the arch way about to tell Darry thanks and bye. As I turned to go out the door Two-Bit was no more than an inch away from me which scared the daylights out of me.

"Hey Johnnycake," He cried gleefully "Long time no see."

You would have thought it was five years instead of five days since I'd seen him last. But I didn't mind, I like ol' Two-Bit; he's a good buddy to have. He spun me into the kitchen and into Steve who hit me playfully on my bruised back.

After everything calmed down Two-Bit started walking in a slow circle around me, I gulped because I knew what was coming.

"Man, dig baldy here, hey Steve, who knew he had eye brows?!" Two-Bit chuckled

"Aw, lay off," I wasn't actually upset. I was used to this kind of attention from the guys.

"Hey I'm gonna go see Ponyboy, does anybody want to come?" Two-Bit asked glumly.

Naturally I agreed. That's where I was going to go anyway. Steve, Soda, and Darry had to go to work, so they couldn't come. We left the house and started down Tenth Street.

"I would drive us," Two-Bit said as we walked up the street trying to thumb a ride. "but the brakes on my car are out. Almost killed me and Kathy the other night." He flipped the collar on his black leather jacket up to serve as a windbreak while he was lighting a cigarette. "You outta see her brother. Now there's a hood. He's so greasy he glides when he walks, he goes to the barber for an oil change not a haircut."

I would have laughed. Or at least smiled. But I had a terrific headache that wasn't going away. We stopped at the Tasty Freeze to buy some Cokes and rest up. And a blue mustang that had been trailing us for at least eight blocks pulled in. I almost decided to run, and Two-Bit must have guessed what I was gonna do. He shook his head and tossed me a cancer stick. The Socs who jumped me and Pony at the park hopped out. I remembered Randy, Marcia's boyfriend, and the tall guy that almost drowned Ponyboy. I hated them. It was their fault Bob was dead; their fault Pony was dying; their fault that Soda might get put in a boy's home. I hated them as much as Dally hated.

Two-Bit put an elbow on my shoulder and leaned against me. He took a long drag of his weed and blew the smoke right at the Socs.

"You know the rules, no jazz before a rumble," he said to them.

"We know," Randy said. He looked at me. "Come here I want to talk to you."

I glanced at Two-Bit, he shrugged, but I wasn't so sure about them Socs. I followed Randy over to his car making sure Two-Bit could see me. Just to be safe I moved my switch into my front pocket. I guess Randy must have seen.

"You're not gonna need that, I ain't gonna sock you," he seemed depressed, in an angry type of way.

We climbed into the car and golly, it was the tuffest car I have ever been in.

"I read about you in the paper," Randy started out casually. "How come?"

I shrugged. I don't really know why I followed Ponyboy into the church.

"Well I wouldn't have, I would have let those little kids burn to death."

"Maybe you wouldn't have."

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. I would have never thought a Greaser could pull something like that."

"'Greaser' didn't have anything to do with it," I snapped.

"I'm not showing to the rumble tonight," Randy said slowly.

I took a good look at him. He was maybe seventeen or eighteen. But he was already old, like Dallas was old.

"I'm sick of all of this. Sick and tired. Bob was a good guy. He was the best buddy a guy ever had. I mean, he was a good fighter too, and tuff and everything. But he was a real person too. You dig?"

I nodded.

"He's dead; his mother had a nervous breakdown. They spoiled him rotten. I mean, most parents would be proud of a kid like that. Good lookin', and smart. But they gave into him all the time. He kept trying to make someone say 'No' and they never did. To have someone lay down the law. But they didn't, one time he came home drunker then anything I have ever seen. And you know what they did? They blamed themselves for not teaching him better." He took a deep breath, "I don't know why I'm telling you this. You're the only one I could tell. My friends would think I'm off my rocker or something. Maybe I am. I just don't know anymore. That kid, your buddy, the one that got burned, he might die?

"Yeah," I tried not to think about Ponyboy too much.

"And tonight . . . people get hurt in rumbles, maybe killed. I'm sick of it because it don't do any good. You can't win, you know that right? You can't win, even if you whip us you'll still be at the bottom, and we'll still be at the top. The Socs the kids who get all the breaks, the kids who have all the money."

I kept my trap shut. This guy was deep, and what he was saying was. . . was true.

"So I'd fight if I thought that it would do any good. I think I'm going to leave town. Take my mustang and all the dough I can carry and get out," he finished.

"Running away won't help, believe me," I said.

"Oh, hell I know it. But what can I do? I'm a marked chicken if I punk out of the rumble. And I'd hate myself I didn't. I don't know what to do," he half sobbed.

"I would help you if I could."

"No you wouldn't, I'm a Soc. You get a little money and the world hates you."

"No, you hate the world."

He just looked at me, from the way he looked he could have been ten years older. I got out of the car. "You would have saved those kids, I know you would have."

I turned to walk away when I heard him talk again.

"Thanks grease," he said trying to grin. Then he stopped. "I didn't mean that, I meant thanks kid."

"My name is Johnny. Nice talkin' to you Randy."

I walked over to Two-Bit and Randy honked for his friends to come and get into the car.

"What'd Mr. Super Soc want," Two-Bit questioned eyeing down the mustang leaving the parking lot.

"He ain't a Soc, just some guy who wanted to talk," I said.

"You want to see a movie before we go see Ponyboy and Dallas?"

"Nope," I said, lighting up another weed. I still had a headache, but I felt better. Socs were just guys after all. Things were rough all over, but it was better that way. That way you could tell the other guy was human too.

Woooooooooooow an update? Le Gasp! Lulz, but how'd you guys like it. It was kinda fun to write :D. Sorry it took so long for an update, I was helping my sister move out of the house and pack and everything. So R&R please, and thanks again to everyone. OH and sorry if it has a lot of spelling/grammar mistakes. I really wanted to get his out for you guys. So just pretend they are not there.