(author's note):

You guys should be mad as hell at me – I'm such a jerk, I know. Finals – what can I say? I needed straight A's. I wouldn't be mad if you guys didn't even review. Heck, *I'd* probably do that too. "Make me wait two months for this – no review for you, bitch." Go ahead guys, don't review. I'm really sorry, I totally deserve it. :(

The next chapter's all written though. I hope that makes up for it a little … ?

(disclaimer):

I don't own – Hinton does though. =/ I also don't own those lyrics – Randy Newman does. I'm going through my Toy Story phase – anyone else see the new one? I got all choked up.

(acknowledgements):

You guys need to write PERSONAL MESSAGES TO DIVINE ENERGY who totally came through for you guys on this one. She threatened me with LAPS if I didn't get this in by Friday! She truly rocks; she's the only reason you guys even have this probably. (I know! I'msorrysorrysorry!)

x- If you got troubles then I got 'em too.
There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you.
We stick together. We can see it through.
'Cause you've got a friend in me. -x

"Two-Bit!" I yelped. "I … what?"

He looked slightly amused and exasperated. His mouth twitched slightly as if he wanted to smile, and it was only then that I remembered who he was underneath this tough guy exterior. Good ol' Two-Bit always smilin' and making people laugh. I laughed nervously, and he got mad again. "What?"

"I didn't do anything to your sister," I said slowly, wondering how to plow on. I didn't want to say she invited me over … he'd get suspicious, ask her why, and he'd know that I knew … but what did I know anyway? All I saw was a bunch of pills on the counter with his surname on 'em – I wasn't sure even what I knew. I flicked my gaze to meet his eyes, finally deciding what to say. "She was scared, Two-Bit."

He looked shocked, but only if you knew him real well could you tell. He cocked his eyebrow real slowly, not quick and coupled with one of his grins like he normally does. And his lips were pursed, like he was thinking of something. He turned away, running his hand through his hair distractedly. "Why?"

"Whaddya mean?" I asked back, and he gave me a warning look. "Two-Bit … where've you been for two days?" There. That was safe.

He looked down, shrugging. "Thinkin'."

"About what? Two-Bit … " I pleaded. "I – I want to know what's going on – and I want to know now, Two-Bit. I saw – " I chickened out – I couldn't confront him, tell him that I knew. I was afraid of him, to be honest. I didn't know what to expect from him. Sure, I've been around people on drugs before, but I never knew 'em well enough to actually talk to them. And I certainly never challenged them like I just did.

"Ponyboy … " He sighed, flicking his gaze to me. I looked at him, and was surprised to see he was looking resigned and shrugging his shoulders in a 'What can I say?' kinda way.

But nothing could've surprised me more than what he said next.

He bit down on the smile threatening to break on his face, and cocked his eyebrow. I stood there, looking back at him. I tried not to falter under his gaze. And then it happened.

He laughed.

It was like the first gulp of air you get after nearly being choked to death, I was that relieved. I exhaled.

"Hey." He lightly slapped me on the arm to get my attention. "I got an idea. Let's hang out tonight – just like old times. There's probably some movie playin' tonight – it's Friday af'erall … " The whole time he spoke, it was in a slow voice, and he gave me a pointed look, and I wasn't real sure what he was trying to tell me – only that it was something important.

I was still nervous, to be honest. And I'm not saying I was scared, because I wasn't. But I felt like I wouldn't be hanging out with a buddy – it didn't feel like that anymore. Terry was my friend. Mark was my friend. Hell, even Greg felt more like a friend than Two-Bit did. I finally understood how far we had strayed apart, and it made me sad.

Then I remembered about hanging out with the guys tonight at The Ribbon. "Wait, I can't," I told Two-Bit, grimacing. "Told the guys I'd hang out with 'em tonight … asked me last week."

Two-Bit raised his eyebrows, looking inquisitive. "Oh? I thought for sure you'd be with Ms. Shepard this weekend – glad to see you have some common sense in your head after all, kid."

"Wait – what?" I asked. "Angela? What? She tries to get me beat up, gets my friend hospitalized, and people still expect me goin' out with her – hey, anyway. Isn't she married?" I spit that all out real quick. I was tired of hearing about Angela. And I was real embarrassed that I hadn't seen it coming on earlier. Lord, people must've thought I was real dumb not realizing that she was making a pass at me.

Two-Bit grinned and put his hands up. 'This is so weird,' I thought to myself. "Hey kid – I agree with you. That girl sure is a fox, but I wouldn't go near her with a ten-foot pole."

For some reason that reminded me of the sirens that we had read about in English one time – beautiful, winged women that would lure men to their island. And when the men would crash into the rocks, they'd either drown or die right there on the island – unable to leave. "That ain't even true," I said sourly. "Angela's not even good looking, alright?" I was thinking of Cathy when I said that, but it didn't surprise me. I was thinking more and more about her lately. It made me real angry about how girls had to be god awful to be with in order to get attention, but girls like Cathy got overlooked. It made me like ol' Bryon a little bit more.

"Hmm." Two-Bit nodded, looking real tired all of a sudden. Looking up at him close I realized just how much older he did look. First off, his hair was real long and unkept. Greasers stopped greasing back their hair a while ago, but Two-Bit's hair was even longer 'n that. Almost like a hippy. His eyes seemed to have this glazed look to them, like he was thinking of something millions of miles away – and they weren't happy thoughts. He looked pale and he had lost weight – he looked miserable. "Maybe I'll see you around … "

"Yeah," I told him, feeling awful all of a sudden. "Yeah, alright."

As I watched him walk away, I honestly had no idea what I was getting myself into. All I knew was that even if I wasn't sure I could help him, I figured I had to try anyway. Even if he didn't want it.

~/~

I decided to skip track today, and just wouldn't tell Darry about it. Not that he'd get real upset about it – he thinks I'm working too hard. I guess you could say that we got a little more understanding of each other after Johnny and Dallas last year, but to me it felt like he was smothering me, and I couldn't stand it sometimes. I felt distant from Darry, even if he was trying harder. I guess it was just my fault that we couldn't get along too well.

As I walked home, I realized that I had forgotten my jacket at school. Normally I wouldn't have noticed, but it was beginning to get cold and only when I started rubbing my arms did I realize I only had my shirt. It wasn't that much of a big deal, but I felt like I was slipping back into the mood I got into after last year. It took me a real long time to get over the murder, and it didn't help much that people would always talk about it. They still do. They might not tell it to my face, but I can still tell.

When I did get home eventually, I realized just how much I wanted Soda back all of a sudden. I always wanted him back – our house felt wrong without him, and it always hurt to realize that he wouldn't be home waiting. But this was a different kind of need – I felt like I did when Johnny and I were on the run, or after I had gotten news second hand about Mom and Dad dying. So what I did was I took my pen, some paper, and I wrote down what I needed to tell him.

Dear Sodapop,

I'm sorry for not writing in such a long time. It's been a busy month – did you know that coach has us doing Indian runs through the park, even in December? We thought for sure he'd let up on us, but it doesn't seem like he will. Darry's always grumbling about how I'm gonna catch some nasty bug, doing this sort of crazy stuff. But I guess football training's different than track, isn't it?

I do want to tell you something, but I'm not sure what to begin with, or how to say it. It used to be easier telling you this when we could just talk at night … I'm worried about Two-Bit too. He seems to change so suddenly, and they're such dramatic changes that I don't understand what's going on. Today he practically gave me a death threat when he found out that I was with his sister when he wasn't home, but as soon as I told him the real story, he practically busted out laughing – isn't that something?

Gosh Soda, I feel so dumb telling you this sort of stuff when you're on your way to Vietnam, and might be getting shot at while I whine about catching hypothermia or having problems getting this girl that I like. It just seems so small compared to your problems sometimes. I wish you were here, Soda. I miss you a lot, and I promise to write again soon, if anything interesting happens.

I'll tell Two-Bit you said hi. I hope Steve's alright too. I see Evie around sometimes, and she looks real sad, like she misses him.

- Ponyboy

It didn't say all that I had wanted to say, but as I continued writing it down to my brother, it seemed to get harder and harder to write. I tried to tell him about Cathy and the guys, but I'd always get images of Soda getting shot at, and then trying to write down cheerful letters to match mine. It didn't seem fair that I was safe here, and Soda wasn't.

And then I tried to tell him about Two-Bit, but that didn't work either. I wondered if I'd ever be able to tell anyone about Two-Bit.

"Hey, I'm home!" Darry.

I stayed in my room for a bit longer, and re-read Soda's latest letter. I heard Darry's slow, pounding footsteps. "Hey, I'm home."

"I know," I told him, turning my eyes to meet his. He jerked his head at the letter. "You writing to Soda?"

I nodded.

"Hmm." He stepped into my room, nodding. "I just finished mine too – I'm glad you wrote one. Half of the one I got was him whining about how you don't write to him anymore." He grinned.

"Oh." I felt awful – Soda had always been there for me, even when he could be there physically. And I couldn't even write a lousy letter? "Do you want me to mail them? I'm going out tonight anyway."

"Well … could you?" Darry asked, sighing. "I was thinking of doing it tomorrow, but Fridays are the best to get mail in."

"No problem." I sat up quickly and took my letter. "Where is it? I'll go get it." I walked out of my room, down to the kitchen.

"Ponyboy." I turned around and saw Darry. I hadn't realized he'd followed me. "So … did you talk to Two-Bit today?"I turned to him, and felt angry. I had gone by his advice and Two-Bit still had refused to tell me anything – it was beginning to make me infuriated.

"No I didn't talk to Two-Bit!" I snapped at him, angry. "What good will it do anyway – he doesn't want to talk to me, alright? He doesn't care."

Darry walked over to the table and sat down. "Look Ponyboy, I'm not here to tell you what you need to do with your friends alright? You're a big boy – decide on your own. I just thought you'd want to try a little harder, seeing as it's Two-Bit – "

"Well so what?" I growled at him. "He's being just as immature as I am. He talks to you, don't he?" I thought about Two-Bit asking to see me tonight, and I wondered briefly if I should've gone.

"Yes, but … " Darry paused. "We both need to be there for him, alright? I think we should go over there tomorrow to settle this once and for all."

I stared at him for another five seconds. "Alright, fine. Where's that letter?"

~/~

When I got to the post office, it was already around 6:20, so I figured I had time to kill before heading down to The Ribbon – it wasn't that far away, actually. I really didn't feel like going somewhere that night. I walked up the steps into the building, and saw quite a few people there putting letters in.

There was one woman there who had clamped her hand around a little boy's hand. I noticed the kid first, anyway. He was squalling and squirming away, but she wouldn't let go. "Stay." She took the envelope to her lips and kissed it lightly before putting it in the box.

After Soda went to boot camp, the question of how to send letters to him came up, and we were told that the MPS would take care of it. As long as we sent it to a special post office we just put 'em in and it was done. When I got there that day, I remembered just why I hated mailing letter to Soda so much – it's because of the other people there.

There were lots of women there like that first one I saw. Some of them had kids with them – some of them didn't. The kids there always bugged me. I started to dislike kids a little more than I had used to, but it was also the fact that none of them seemed to care an awful lot about who they were sending those letters to. I tried to understand, but it just made me grateful that I was old enough to care about my brother being in war.

I stood behind a few of the people putting their mail in – whispering into them, kissing them, and I felt more uncomfortable. I was moving up when I saw one of the women turn around to walk away, and I actually recognized her. It was Steve's girlfriend, Evie.

I didn't know Evie too well, except that she was grease like us, and she acted like one too. I could only remember seeing her a few times. I'd seen her with Steve a few times, and she works as some waitress now at one of the local food joints. I didn't think she knew who I was, but I gave her a tight smile and she stopped. "Shit!" She stomped her foot on the ground, frowning at me.

I blinked, surprised. "Uh … "

She sighed impatiently, and I kind of understood why she got along with Steve so well – they both sure made me feel dumb even when I didn't do anything. "I don't believe it – I was looking for you, and right now of all times you're here."

"Excuse me, son?" An older man behind me cleared his throat. "If you wouldn't mind talking to your girlfriend somewhere else, could we possibly go in front of you?"

"Oh, yeah, right," I mumbled. I kicked myself for not telling him that Evie wasn't my girlfriend, because I didn't think she'd take too kindly to that. I was so confused that I probably looked like some deer caught in the headlights. "One second … " I strode over to the box and was about to put my letter in when Evie grabbed my wrist in. Her hands were cold, and they were so small compared to mine.

"And what do you think you're doin', boy?" She almost sounded amused, and she laid her accent on thick. She cocked her eyebrow, and I wouldn't ever tell Steve this, but she was kinda pretty. She wasn't like Angela or Cathy, or even like Cherry – but lots of girls aren't. Evie didn't dye her hair like lots of other greaser girls did – and instead it was dark and curly and ran down her pale cheeks; it matched her eyes, which were a dark brown but coated in dark makeup. She wasn't all that thin, but I guess that wasn't a real bad thing. She lowered my arm.

"I'm sorry. It's been a rough week. Give me that letter for a minute?" Oh, yeah. She was definitely a greaser girl. She kept her voice light and airy when she could help it, and leapt for the letter.

"Why?" I asked her roughly, without meaning to. She winced a bit. "I mean … what do you want to do with it?"

"I'm not going to read your letter about your little girlfriend or anything, I just want to write something on the envelope, honest."

"What?" I asked her suspiciously. I didn't like the way she had phrased that sentence – I hated it when people told me I was a kid. She's probably never had anything bad happen to her that worse than breaking a nail or something.

She rolled her eyes and swiped the letter. She took the pen from her pocket and wrote something on the front, cupping it with her hands so I couldn't see. "What is it?"

"My God," she mumbled. "You gotta know everything?" She scribbled something down and ended it with a violent slash, before putting it down in the post box before I could say anything.

"Hey, missy. You gotta wait your turn," one lady old enough to be my grandmother said.

Evie bit her lip but didn't say anything as she retreated from the post office. I ran after her. "Hey," I told her. "What – "

"It was nothing, alright?" she told me, looking like she just wanted to stop talking about it. She looked down and sighed. "Could you do me a favor?"

I shrugged. "Aw, I dunno … I have to get going soon. I have to be somewhere at seven – "

"Not now," she said, smiling a little. "I … hmm. The next time you write to Sodapop, can you tell me when you're going to the post office? Here, wait." She took out her pen again from the little pocketbook, and took my arm. "This is my number – you can call me on Saturday nights, Sundays, or after three on Wednesdays – I'm off from work then."

I looked at the loopy numbers on my arm. "Why do you need to talk to Steve so bad?"

We had been walking, and stopped by the truck. Evie sat on the hood and shrugged. "It's nothing. I just wanted to talk – he's already in 'Nam, did you know that? He stopped the letters really early though; while he was still in basic training. If he wanted to break up with me he could have, it's not like I – "

I zoned her out afterwards, nodding occasionally. Why had he stopped writing to her, I wondered? I guessed that Evie thought she could tell Soda, and then he could tell Steve. I didn't know how to tell her that Soda was just on his way to Vietnam, and probably wouldn't even see Steve once he got there.

"—and I mean, I haven't been distant or dishonest at all, what does that say, right? I just wish – hey? You listening?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I'll tell Sodapop to tell Steve to answer your letter, okay?"

"And call me, alright?" she repeated slowly. "I'm tired of this – I'm just sending the letter to Soda, and he can send it to Steve."

I didn't think I should tell her that Soda probably didn't see Steve around too much. "Alright, I will."

She nodded. "Okay, I'll see you around then?"

"Mmhmm." I nodded, and got into the truck. I looked back, and she was rubbing her arms and looking up at the sky with a lost look on her face. 'We're all lost,' I thought to myself, and started the engine.

(author's note):

Ponyboy's such a drama queen, hmm? Next chapter is coming as soon as Dee gets it back to me, and I fix up some stupid stuff I did with the timeline. ;)

Happy June 28th, my readers. Read and flame if you must (which you do, and should right now). :-)