Author's Note: Whew. An update. Hoo-raaaw? Anyways, I'm not a big fan of where I ended this chapter, but whatever. Hope you like it. 3
"C'mon Ponyboy, you can do it kiddo," Darry said, giving me a pat on the back.
I let out a small whimper, hoping to have Darry pity me and tell me it was okay to stay home one more day. No such luck. He just gave me a do-you-think-I'm-that-stupid kind of look.
I sighed, "Whatever," and slid out of the truck.
I waited until the truck was completely out of sight before I turned around. The school looked huge. I mean it. I bet they'd rebuilt it humongous just to freak me out. And if that was true, then boy did it work. I took a deep breath like I was going to jump in a cold pool and then walked up to the door. The door felt like it weighed a million pounds, but somehow I managed to crack it open wide enough to fit through.
I guess I thought it would be like the movies when someone goes away for doing something bad, when they reenter the school, everyone stops and stares. But that wasn't how it really was. Nobody even gave me a second glance. I slunk in and went to my first class of the day, math.
This time I did feel stares. Maybe it was because it was a smaller environment, so everyone knew who I was. I was worried they also knew why I was gone so long. I plunked down in a seat near the back. My teacher gave me a warm smile when she called my name on roll and I answered.
"Welcome back Ponyboy," she said, "Welcome back."
I didn't feel welcome, though I returned her smile anyway. A couple of times one of the huge Socs looked back at me. Every time I saw him do it he would smirk and turn back around. I didn't really think too much of it, even though it was a little nerve wracking.
"That's enough for today," I whispered to myself. I looked down at the notes I had taken and realized they didn't make much sense. Just random numbers scrawled all over. I got up and then walked outside.
I had walked about two blocks when I noticed the Soc from my math class trailing behind me with a couple of his friends. I picked up my pace a little bit, but must have known in the back of my mind it was no use. If they wanted to jump me, they could. I didn't even have a chance at running away. I was completely out of shape and they'd catch me in a second. The Soc grabbed my arm, "Where yah headed kid?"
When I didn't respond he socked me a good one in the side of the face. He spat at me, "Wuss. What? Not a man anymore? Stupid grease," he hit me again.
Without thinking I let out a whimper and his friends snickered, joining in with pummeling me. The 'leader' or whatever flattened me onto my back. He lit up a cigarette, making sure to strike the match close to my face. He then pulled up my shirt.
"We'll make a man outta you."
And then he started to use me as an ashtray. He stuck me with the burning end of the smoke. I let out a light scream and he merely laughed. After the smoke had been burnt to a nub, he got up and the Socs left, making sure to spit and cuss at me first.
I waited a few moments before getting up and walking the rest of the way home. I felt like a huge failure. And everything the Socs had said were right. The Socs and Steve. Because when you were tough nothing could touch you. Especially not Socs.
But on the walk home I realized it wasn't about Socs anymore. It was about me. The Socs hadn't changed. I had changed. But it was all under control now. I was going to get tougher. I wasn't going to let fear consume me.
When I got home I was surprised to see Steve sitting there. "Hey," I said.
"Hey." Steve said, turning away from the TV, "What happened to you? Your face's'all cut up. And whatcha doin' home so early?"
I shrugged. That seemed to suffice and he turned back to the TV. I went and plopped down in the big armchair, half watching the TV and half watching Steve.
"What?" He grunted at me.
"Nothin'," I said. After a few moments pause I said, "Steve?"
"Yeah?"
"Sorry."
"For what?" He asked, shifting to look at me.
"Don't worry," I said, "I ain't gonna be in the way no more."
"Ponyboy…" Steve said, now staring at me, "What do you mean?"
"Nothing."
"Well, you obviously mean something," Steve stood up," So spill it or I'll make yah."
I rolled my eyes, "Don't worry about it," I said confidently, but shrunk a little bit when he came closer, "Get away."
Steve grabbed the back of my neck and threw me to the ground. "You get one more chance," he said. When I just shook my head he jumped on top of me and pinned me down. He then started to tickle the crud out of me. I bit my lip as hard as I could, but I couldn't help but laugh. He stopped abruptly and let out a gasp.
"Ponyboy? What are these little marks on your stomach?"
I looked at him, and then down at myself, realizing how my shirt had gotten pulled up a bit. I grabbed it and shoved it down, "Ain't nothing." I said quickly.
"Are those cigarette burns, kid?"
"Don't tell my brothers, kay Steve? It ain't nothing. Really."
"Don't look like nothing. Get jumped on the way home?"
I nodded silently and then looked down, "A while ago I coulda taken 'em on. I just…I just…"
I felt a sharp sting on the side of my face and realized that Steve had slapped me. "What the hell was that for?" I sputtered.
His eyes glowered and he shook his head, "Goddammit Ponyboy are you hearing yourself? It don't matter none if you can or can't beat up some Socs." He stayed silent for a moment before starting up again, "Do you remember the time, right after Johnny and Dally died, when you threatened those Socs with that busted bottle? Yeah, and Two-Bit told you not to get tough and you picked up the glass pieces of the bottle? Ponyboy…You gotta understand."
"Understand what, Steve?"
"It's time to pick up the glass pieces again."