Hello readers. Happy Easter eve...if that is a thing. Hah.
I was debating whether or not to update today because of Easter being tommorrow...but I did.
Thank you for all your reviews! You all seem to be very concerened about what I have planned to happen to Ponyboy in Miami...well by listing things NOT to do you have given me great ideas! Just kidding...or am I?
...
Ponyboy POV
"Miami, Florida."
The trip is suddenly more real than ever, so real it's more like dream. I am here.
I miss my brothers but at the same time I'm glad to be away from them. I feel free; like any other kid who goes out and does stupid stuff but regrets none of it.
Maybe this is how Dallas Winston felt all the time. The thought comes upon me - what would Dally think of this? Or Johnny?
Though if they were alive I probably never would have taken this trip. Or gotten drunk that night.
So much for staying gold…I recall Johnny's last words bitterly.
My worries fade once I take in my surroundings. Even though it's five AM and the sky is still dark Miami is lit up like Christmas and louder than I've ever heard Tulsa.
"Holy shit," Clarke breaths leaning over me to get a better look out my window at the traffic "We're really here." I push him away, annoyed.
But I'm in awe too. "I know."
Lowell snorts from the front seat. "Yeah, it took us long enough. I think I just spent more money on gas than I've spent in my whole life."
"Quit complaining. I paid for most of it; it's my car." Smith gripes.
In the heat of the moment I flash back to the phone call I'd made to my brothers three hours ago. That feels like last week now. They whole gang is probably asleep back in Tulsa; if they can get any sleep. I'm sure Darry and Soda are worrying their heads off about me.
I wish that they wouldn't. I'm just fine.
…
Lowell's aunt's apartment is barely that. I feel apprehensive in the short sprint from the car to the door. The alley seems like one for a robbery.
And then, just my luck…"You look scared," someone whispers from behind me. Shit.
I haven't been in Miami for thirty minutes...
Terrified, I jerk around and find myself facing Clarke. He wears a malicious grin as he pushes my bag into my chest. "Gotcha good there, Curtis."
I manage a weak laugh even though I'm shaking from head to toe. I follow Lowell up into the apartment.
I walk into a shaggy rug haphazardly thrown on the floor and a narrow hallway. Somewhere in the apartment I can hear an old fan click and shudder.
"Damn" Clarke says into my ear with a low voice when he comes up behind me. "When Lowell described this place I imagined a palace."
I elbow him. It's not like your house is anything more. Though I don't get to say anything because Lowell's aunt appears around a corner. At the sight of us she breaks into a grin and immediately wraps Lowell into a hug "Christopher. Welcome back hun." Lowell blushes, Smith nudges me and grins.
"Hi Aunt Bea" I can just barely hear Lowell say in covert. He sounds glad to see his aunt.
Beatrice breaks apart from him and holds her hand out in front of her hip. "Last time I saw you...you were this tall. You're so big now…"
Lowell blushes, I see him flip a furtive finger at Clarke who had been puckering his lips at him.
Turning in on Smith, Clarke and I, Lowell's aunt clicks her tongue. "And the party of course. I'm Beatrice Lowell."
We each take a turn shaking her bony hand. She's smiling wide; I notice she has eyes that match Lowell's.
…
Darry POV
Soda barely holds it together with thin threads. I can tell he's shocked by Ponyboy's vagueness in the phone call he'd made last night - I guess he'd been expecting something more. Even worse, he blames himself in the first place.
"This is all me," he chokes weakly to me as he devours a piece of cake with one hand and tries to put on his shoe with the other. "We had…an argument the day before he left." he looks sick. "I think that was the last straw. I drove him out, Darry..."
This takes me by surprise-Ponyboy and Soda never argue. "Argument about what?" I implore.
Soda shakes his head. He looks like he's going to explode any second. "That doesn't matter! He's-he's gone, he could get hurt...who knows?"
I glance at the clock; Steve should be coming any minute to go to work with Soda. I'd have to make this quick.
I place a hand on Soda's shoulder, wincing at how much it shakes. "Ponyboy is fine," I tell him firmly. "You didn't drive him out. He just needed a break. Besides he isn't fourteen anymore."
My brother's face clouds over. "That's what worries me."
"Sod-"
Before anything else is said the door swings open; Steve rolling inside with Two-Bit in the rear, carrying a six pack of beer. "Ready?" he asks looking to Soda.
Soda gives me one last look but follows Steve out. "Yeah. I'm ready."
I watch the two of them leave and wonder what I can do to help Soda. He's really taking this hard; like he does with everything. The worst he can do is blame himself.
I don't want another Windrixville.
But I can't do anything in the present moment; I have to leave for work too. I grab my keys from the hook by the door.
Just as I'm about to leave I see Two-Bit plunk on the couch with his beer. "You don't mind if I crash here for the day do you?" then he shakes his head. "Nah, you don't."
I grumble to myself and swing the door open.
…
Ponyboy POV
"Ponyboy."
I roll over onto my back, still exhausted from the night before. "Go. Away. Smith."
"Smith? I ain't Smith." the voice cracks.
My eyes flutter open and I find myself facing Sodapop. He's in his DX uniform. His noise is only inches from mine. "Oh," I yawn. "Soda." For some reason I'm not shocked by my brother's sudden appearance at all.
He grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me closer to him. I can smell the chocolate cake on his breath. "Why did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Why did leave me Pony?"
I wince, his words hitting me like a metal bat. "I'm sorry, Sodapop, I just needed-"
"Soda? Did you just call me Sodapop?" someone laughs. My eyes widen - now I'm facing Darry. "Glory, can't tell your own brothers apart anymore..."
"Darry" I breath, relieved to be seeing him. It's only been two days but it feels like months since I've seen my brothers.
"Yeah, it's me. Why did you call me Sodapop, Pone?"
Floundering, I stutter "I dunno. It's just-I feel like he was just here a second ago."
Darry's eyes harden. "Well he wasn't. Not at all. I suppose you wouldn't know; you weren't here for it and I never got around to writing a letter. I've been too busy making plans..."
"Plans for what?" I wonder out loud, cursing my curiosity.
Darry's eyes seem to avert from mine. "The funeral, Ponyboy."
"Funeral?" I croak, feeling my eyes bug out. "But-no one is dead."
"Since you've been in Miami Sodapop entered a drag race. There was an accident-he didn't make it." Darry's voice is without emotion.
"Darry," I breath, choking on my words. This can't be happening. Not to me. "I haven't even been in Miami for a day…"
He looks confused. "God, your memory is getting worse by the day. It's been three months Ponyboy. You promised you'd make it back in just one...but you never did."
I feel a tear fall down my face, followed by more. I don't bother to wipe them away. "That ain't true, don't say that."
He doesn't reply.
"Darry!"
There it is again-a laugh. But this time it isn't Darry's. "Golly Ponyboy. It's me, Soda." Staring back at me is Sodapop, still inches from my face as he grabs onto my shoulders.
"Soda," I breath with relief. "Soda, it's you. You ain't dead…" I grab my brother's wrist, not wanting to let go, afraid he was actually dead.
He looks confused. "Nah. I'd rather not be. Why would you think a thing like that?"
I lean in close to him. "Darry told me that you died...that you entered a drag race and died…"
Soda shakes his head. "Nope. Still here. Now wake up."
Only his mouth doesn't move when he says 'Now wake up.'
"Huh?"
"Wake up, Ponyboy! Beatrice is making us breakfasssst!" Soda's mouth is still stationary.
"Soda," I gasp, but my brother is slipping away from me. No...no...no… "Soda!"
"Pancakes! Can't you smell em?"
Someone shakes my shoulder. I yell, rolling over to face Smith. He scratches his head. "What the hell...Was that a dream?"
I have to take a moment to catch my breath. Then I ask "Was I talking?"
Smith nods slowly, looking concerned. "Yeah. Askin for Soda."
"Shit," comes the furtive swear from my mouth.
"It was just a nightmare," Smith reasons with me, apparently having heard it. "Sometimes I have them too." he confides a little more quietly.
I look up at him, noticing he looks a little different than I have ever seen him. Softer...calmer. More vulnerable.
"What are they about?"
He waves me away, a grin forming on his face. "Nothing. C'mon...you heard me. Beatrice is cookin up some pancakes and they sure do smell good.
…
Yes, the nightmares are back!
Don't leave me Easter candy...leave me reviews!
