Soda heard the shower come on, as he stood just inside his and Pony's bedroom closet. He opened the box that was at the top of a stack next to their dress clothes. Soda was searching for his old copies of Car and Driver magazine.

"Hey, Soda!" Darry shouted over the running water.

"Yeah?" Soda called back, not looking up from the box.

"Could you grab me a clean towel from the laundry room?"

Soda made his way to the laundry room and pulled towel from the pile on the dryer. He opened the bathroom door and placed the towel on the sink. "Here, Dar!"

"Thanks, little buddy."

Soda closed the bathroom door and was walking back to his bedroom when he heard the shower go off.

"Hey, Soda, you know I'm headed to a buddy's house, right? I just came home to shower," Darry said, through the closed door.

"Yeah, I know."

Soda had gone back to rifling through the box in the closet and was distracted.

What all did we put in here? He wondered. There were some of Pony's old books, photos of Mickey Mouse, and even a few of their dad's things. Soda recognized Mr. Curtis' old coin collection that he used to show off to the boys. Next to it was his Roy Rogers pocket watch. Soda picked up the watch to hear it still ticking. He smiled at the memory of his dad. Soda looked in the box again, finally spotting three copies of Car and Driver tucked beneath the photos of Mickey Mouse. He picked up the magazines and found another of his dad's belongings nestled in the corner of the box. Soda remembered the watch, but here was the Roy Rogers pocket knife that his dad had thought was so tuff. He had to agree, as he admired the cowboy cartoon and slid the blade open, then closed. Soda decided it would be good to keep something of his dad's with him, so he placed the knife in his jeans pocket. He then tossed the magazines onto the bed and was putting the box of mementos back into its spot in the closet.

Darry appeared in the doorway. "I'm going now, little buddy. I'll see you later tonight, okay?" he told Soda.

"Sure, Dar. Who's this buddy again?"

"Oh! His name's James. Pony might come too. I think he's still with TwoBit right now though. What are you and Steve up to tonight?"

"We might go to the drag races. I'm not sure. He'll be off work in a few minutes, and he'll come right over." Soda stretched out on the bed and flipping through one of the magazines.

"All right. Have fun. I think you could use it. I'll be back by 11. Stay out of trouble."

"Aw, Darry, how can we have fun without a little bit of trouble?" Soda joked, watching Darry walk away.

"Behave, little man!" Darry laughed, as he went out the front door to get in his truck.

Soda sighed, wishing he really did feel like going to the drag races and causing trouble. Darry didn't have a thing to worry about, and his big brother probably knew that. Soda turned his focus back to the car on the cover of one of the Car and Driver magazines and thought about how he'd love to drive a car like that in a race. It was a Maserati Birdcage, and Soda was certain no one in Oklahoma could even dream of a car as tuff as that one. After glancing through the article and various pictures, Soda took a moment to contemplate the design and visualized how it would feel to drive in a real auto race, not just the amateur ones with the guys in Tulsa. Soda knew it would be better than he could even picture, but that didn't stop him from envisioning himself speeding around a track that would take him away from every conflicting and agonizing emotion that danced through his mind. Racing like that, he wouldn't feel anything but victory. Soda knew, however, that even if this were a possibility, the race would eventually end, and he'd be right back in his own thoughts, missing the feeling of that adrenaline rush. He looked over at Pony's desk and saw a stack of drawing paper. Soda wasn't even a little artistic, but what he was going to try didn't take much talent anyway. He took one sheet of paper and placed it over the magazine cover with the picture of the Maserati. He grabbed a pencil and slowly began to trace the outline of the car, letting his musings about a real auto race pull him in again, even though he knew the escape could only last a moment.

"Hey, Sodapop!" Soda heard Steve yell, as the door slammed. He put the paper inside the magazine and slid it carefully in the drawer closest to his side of the bed. Soda figured he could do more later.

Steve was popping open a can of Coke when Soda greeted him in the kitchen. Steve tossed a drink to him, and Soda popped it open, taking a sip.

"So what do you want to do?" Steve asked, looking in a cabinet, then opening the refrigerator.

"What are you looking for?" Soda asked, instead of answering Steve's question.

"I'm hungry, man. Maybe we can grab a bite before we do anything else." Steve closed the refrigerator and sat down at the table.

"Sure. We can head to the DQ and have some burgers."

"So do you want to hang out at the races tonight?"

Soda really didn't want to spoil the night, but he knew he didn't have the energy. Besides, being around a crowd of excited teenagers sounded overwhelming, especially when he just wasn't feeling it himself anymore. Soda wished he did.

Steve watched Soda's expression and knew his answer. "It's fine, Soda. I already told you we don't have to."

"Sorry, Steve. It's just I haven't been sleeping too good lately. And I guess I feel out of sorts. Savvy?"

"Sure. No big deal. Let's go grab some burgers." Steve said, slinging an arm around Soda's shoulders.

Steve and Soda sat on the hood of Steve's car in the parking lot of the DQ. Soda ate one more of his fries before offering the rest to Steve.

"Got a cigarette?" Soda asked.

Steve handed Soda the pack and a lighter before he ate the last of his burger and Soda's fries. As Soda lit his cigarette and took a long drag, Steve remembered the redhead from the DX. "You still got that chick's number?" he asked.

"Yeah," Soda replied, exhaling smoke.

Steve lit his own cigarette, wondering what else he could say. He was used to Soda talking much more than this. "You going to call her?"

Soda only shrugged and took another puff of his cigarette.

Steve hesitated before speaking again. "What's eatin' you, man? Is this something to do with Sandy?"

Soda contemplated this a minute before answering. Had he thought about Sandy much at all lately? She sure had been special to him, and he'd believed he loved her. It didn't matter, though, because she didn't even care enough anymore to open the last letters he'd written her after she went to Florida. Sandy had broken his heart at a time he was already struggling. Pony and Johnny were missing, and Soda was trying to hold both himself and Darry together. He did miss Sandy, but he also figured she had moved on without him. It wasn't his baby she was having, after all. Soda remembered those beautiful blue eyes, then shook his head. He also remembered Steve saying it seemed like Sandy was just too nice. Maybe he'd been right.

"Nah. I just don't feel like it. Got a lot on my mind," Soda decided to say.

Steve knew that since Soda was now bumming a second cigarette. He usually didn't smoke much. Even Pony had cut back lately. "Is Pony okay?" Steve asked, thinking of how it affected Soda when his little brother was hurt or in trouble.

Steve knew Pony believed that he didn't like him, but that simply wasn't true. As far as Steve was concerned, it was also irrelevant. Soda was like his brother, and that was all that mattered. Steve didn't have much of a relationship with his father. His mother had run off with another man when he was five years old. Steve had met Soda when they were seven years old. Over the last decade, Soda had rescued Steve's meaning of family. All of Steve's friends meant a lot to him, but especially Soda. The loyalty between them meant if one cared, so did the other. Steve told himself this was why he cared about Ponyboy.

"I think he is okay. I was worried about him before, but not so much now," Soda replied.

Steve had spent many hours with Soda when Pony was in Windrixville, and he'd made sure to stick around when Pony had gotten sick too. Soda had mostly stayed with Pony then, but Steve was always there whenever he needed a break. They had all been grieving deeply for Johnny and Dally, so they needed each other anyway. On top of that, they were worried about how sick Pony was with his concussion and fever. TwoBit had hardly left the Curtis' house for several days, and Steve had been no different. They'd both watched Darry and Soda care for their brother until he showed signs of recovering. It was at this time that Steve found himself feeling sympathy for the kid because he'd been so close to Johnny. He couldn't imagine losing Soda. Steve stared at his best friend, wondering what he could be thinking, then suddenly recognized the look in his eyes. Soda had seemed to be lost in fear and confusion the week Pony was gone. He'd lacked the motivation to do anything, and he cried often. The way Soda looked now reminded Steve of that awful time, and it made him reflect on the past several weeks, remembering how much more himself Soda had been once Pony started to recover. But had Soda ever fully returned to his happy-go-lucky self? Steve didn't think so. It was like Soda had been so caught up in how Pony was doing, he'd forgotten to make sure he was okay too. This was one reason Steve had stayed close to him. He wanted to make sure Soda had someone too since he'd constantly been there for Darry and then for Pony. Steve supposed what he was seeing now was the aftermath of all the loss and fear Soda had experienced in a rather short period of time.

"Can we just go back to my house, Steve?" Soda asked, breaking Steve from his musings.

"Sure," Steve said.

Soda got in the passenger seat of the car, while Steve slid into the driver's seat.

"Sodapop, if it's not Sandy or Pony, then what's going on in that head of yours?" Steve finally asked, starting the car.

"I guess...I guess I just don't feel right. And I don't know how to explain it. My head always feels like it's spinning, and my nerves are on edge," Soda said, before looking out the window and biting his lip.

"A lot has happened, buddy. It makes sense."

"Yeah, I guess." Soda yawned.

"Might help if you get some decent sleep too, man." Steve started the drive back to the Curtis' house.

"It would," Soda agreed, deciding not to mention the dreams he'd been having.

After Steve and Soda got back to the house, they both went inside. Steve turned on the TV, then went to find a deck of cards, while Soda took a seat on the couch. He found the cards on the floor of Pony and Soda's room and was thinking they could play a game of poker.

"Hey, Soda, do you-" Steve's question was interrupted, as he took in Soda's sleeping form.

He must be tired to fall asleep just like that. What's been going on at night around here? Steve wondered, plopping himself down on the floor next to Soda.

Steve began shuffling the cards, thinking he'd play a few games of Solitaire. He knew it wouldn't be a big deal if he just went home, but he really didn't want to leave Soda alone. Besides, his old man wouldn't miss him anyway.

Steve played several games of Solitaire, while Soda slept. He felt himself also getting sleepy, so he crawled onto the smaller sofa and drifted to sleep. The last thing he remembered hearing was the TV playing the Gilligan's Island theme song and thinking being stuck on a deserted island sounded like a tuff adventure. That is, as long as Soda and the gang were there too. That'd be one way to help Soda escape whatever was going on in his head.

"Steve, wake up!" Soda yelled.

What's happening? Steve wondered, opening his eyes with a start. He saw the frantic look on Soda's face, then glanced at the clock on the wall. It was a few minutes after midnight.

"My brother's aren't back yet, Steve. Darry said he'd be back by 11:00! You know he doesn't like to stay out very late." Soda voiced his concerns, as he paced the floor.

Steve yawned and sat up, then pulled Soda's arm to make him sit down next to him. "I'm sure they're fine, man. Don't worry. They'll be back soon. You know Darry. He can take care of himself and Pony," he said. "I'll be right back." Steve got up and headed to the bathroom.

Soda took a deep breath and closed his eyes, hoping he could relax. All he could think of is the night Pony came home late and how that had led to him running away. Of course, this wasn't like that, and Pony wasn't alone. He and Darry were together. But it still made Soda nervous. He also thought of their parents' accident. They'd been late coming home too. They hadn't come home at all. Soda shuddered at the memory.

When Steve sat back down next to Soda, he still had his eyes closed, but he was feeling more and more like he couldn't breathe well. Fear was beginning to strangle him.

Steve laid a hand on Soda's shoulder and squeezed. "Easy, Soda. Just breathe. I'm right here, and I'm sure they're fine. It's not that late. Give them some time."

"Okay. I'm trying. I'm scared, Steve." Soda voice was shaking.

Steve realized, without needing to ask, what Soda was scared of right now. He hated seeing his usually laid back buddy so worried. Steve had already known that Soda was dealing with more than he could or would tell him, but this confirmed his suspicions. Soda was nearly panicking. Steve looked into his wide eyes and could feel him shaking as if he were trying not to cry. This was so much more than a case of nerves and insomnia. Recent events had shaken his friend up more than he knew how to express, and all of those hidden emotions were beginning to seep out.

"It's okay, buddy. Try not to panic," Steve said, his hand still on Soda's shoulder.

Soda had started to relax a little when the ringing phone made both of them jump. Soda rushed to pick it up. "Hello?" he said into the receiver.

Steve saw the relief flood Soda's face and knew it must be Darry. Thank God, he thought.

"Yeah, Dar. I'm fine," Soda said.

Steve had to roll his eyes at that. Soda wasn't fine at all.

"Oh! Yeah, you should do that. You can fix it tomorrow. All right. I'll see you guys in the morning. Good night. Bye." Soda hung up and took a seat at the kitchen table, not saying another word.

"So? What's going on?" Steve asked.

"Darry's truck wouldn't start. He and Pony are just going to crash at James' house," Soda answered, breathing evenly now and appearing calmer.

"See? They're okay." Steve sat down in the chair next to Soda.

Soda smiled a little, but didn't add anything else. He felt relieved, but he hated that he had reacted so strongly.

"Soda, I know I told you this morning that you can talk to me, but I'm telling you again. You can tell me anything that's on your mind. You know I won't judge you, and nothing will change."

"I know. Just not now. I want to go to bed."

Soda honestly did know that, but he felt too emotionally drained to think anymore. He knew it was a long shot, but he couldn't help hoping he'd get a decent night's sleep and feel at least a little better tomorrow morning.