A/N: S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. This Johnny (Johnny 2.0) is my own creation (along with Mikey, Dave, Shane, Pat, & Neil), though he was unashamedly inspired by Ms. Hinton's Johnny. And the angst continues. Maybe I should get some meds- I heard they do wonders for people like me.
It was midday when I woke up again, and Dallas had arranged to meet me at 1 PM down in that creepy looking lot. I threw some clothes on, grabbed my jacket, and was promptly escorted to the living room. "Welcome back, Johnnycake. Unfortunately, you won't be heading anywhere today because you're grounded for two weeks, so you can put your jacket away. Feel free to eat lunch, though." Dad was unusually chipper. I think he was enjoying himself a bit too much.
"I'm sorry that I didn't call, I forgot about it." I really was sorry, but I could tell he was skeptical.
"If you think that an apology is gonna let you waltz out with a 'get outta jail free' card, then, boy, you've got another thing coming." He laced his fingers around his coffee mug, knuckles whitened from the pressure of his grip.
"I was hoping you'd accept my apology instead of spitting it back in my face, Dad." My rejoinder came out much sharper than intended, but I was angrier than I thought. It wasn't fair that I'd get grounded over one forgotten phone call when the other guys could run wild doing God knows what.
"Don't get sassy with me, kiddo, I'm not the one who forgot to call yesterday. D'you realize how long we looked for you? It was over six hours before you came home, and we spent a good five and a half combing all of Tulsa, hoping you weren't dead or hurt. I'm glad you were safe, but you can't imagine the guilt I'd feel if you hadn't been."
"I was with Dallas the entire time; I know he wouldn't let anything happen to me, so would you please just back off? I didn't kill anybody yesterday, and nobody killed me. I'm fine; why won't you just trust me? I have a good head on my shoulders."
"I was worried sick when you didn't come home, Johnny! And when no one had heard a thing from you all day, I started to wonder what happened. You're just lucky we hadn't called the cops yet."
"Why were you so worried in the first place?! It's not like you worry about the others; I swear, you can't leave me alone for ten seconds without thinking I died, or something. I don't know what your deal is, Dad, but I'm sick of being smothered by everyone! First it was you, then Steve, then Mikey; I just can't get a break." I wanted to leave, but something in the way Dad looked at me made me stay put.
"My 'deal' is that I love you, and I just want to keep you safe. That's all I want, is for you to be safe, Johnnycake. I don't want you to be hurt anymore." He looked like he was gonna cry, and truth be told, I felt like bawling too. "I just wanna know that you're safe and sound."
"You sure have a funny way of showing it." I mumbled, wondering why he couldn't just let me alone for a while. I went back to our room and flopped on the bed, feeling strangely defeated. I flinched, quickly covering my ears as the coffee mug shattered in the sink. He'd been mad enough to break a mug on purpose. I'd never seen that side of him before, and I didn't think I wanted to, so I pulled the covers over my head, praying he wouldn't come after me too. He didn't. I heard the scrape of ceramic against steel after a long time, but I didn't hear anything else, since I cried myself to sleep.
The chaotic cacophony of everyone else's presence wasn't what ultimately roused me. The lack of light in the room did the job instead. I felt miserable as I stared at my watch. 6.02 PM. Dallas definitely wouldn't be waiting now. He was probably angry with me, to put it lightly. I felt a gentle hand stroking my hair, and I smiled, thinking it was Uncle Soda. "Are you still mad at me, Johnny?" Dad asked, much to my surprise.
"No, I guess not. Am I still grounded?"
"Yeah, but it's only for the rest of the weekend. I thought I'd let you off easy, since it was just one phone call. You're usually pretty good about remembering that stuff. Did you ever remember the movie you saw?"
"No, and I probably never will. I was distracted by something else the whole time."
"By the way, Dallas called."
"Is he mad at me? I was supposed to meet him today."
"No, I explained everything and he understood. Cussed up a blue streak, though."
"Sounds like something he'd do. He can cuss real good."
"So can Steve." Dad's quiet laughter was contagious. "I'm sorry that I flipped out on you."
"Don't be. If you didn't call for over six hours, I'd start to worry too. If anyone should be sorry, it's me. I was being kind of a brat. I didn't realize how freaked out you were."
"Trust me, you ain't got nothin' on the other kids when it comes to the scapegrace scale. They're worse than both of us combined." He cocked his head, listening to the commotion beyond the door. "I think we'd best stay here. I don't wanna give Mikey an opportunity to latch onto you anymore."
"Steve sang, huh?"
"Like a canary. I kinda wondered if something was up. I'll try to keep you two away from each other as much as possible from now on."
"Hey, Dad?"
"Yeah, bud?"
"Why'd you break that mug?" That question had been bugging me ever since I noticed his bandaged hands.
"You want the awful truth, or a comfortable lie?"
"I can take it." I held onto one of his hands, tracing the lines of gauze with my fingers.
"I was so mad at you that I couldn't see straight, and I knew that breaking that mug would be better than beating the tar out of you. I can always replace a mug, but I can't replace you. That's why I want so desperately to keep you safe. You're worth more than everything else I've got, and now that your mom's gone, we've gotta stick together."