Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders.

Why couldn't I get a thicker door, so I never had to hear anyone knock? I wouldn't have to hear anything or talk to anyone, because no one would know where I was because they couldn't hear me and I couldn't hear them. I could just sit in my room all day long –

"Audrey?" Soda asked from outside the door.

"What?" I groaned.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Fine," I replied. I didn't want him to, but he worried more than an overprotective mother.

He slowly opened the door and slipped inside. "You okay?" he asked. He sat on the floor because I was sitting on the bed. He was like that, completely unlike Ponyboy. Pony would put his arm around me and try to make me feel better, but Soda was never one for the fake short-term comforts. He laid out the facts.

"Not really. Am I ever?" I asked. "Soda, when did you decide to drop out?"

"Don't get any ideas," he said. He ruffled his hair. When he realized that I wasn't going to say a thing until he answered by question, he added, "I was fourteen, almost fifteen. My first year in high school. You know how Darry tried to take a couple of classes at that community college and work a full time job before Mom and Dad made him stop because he was getting three hours of sleep a night? They told him that he should just work the job and save up money to go to college later. Well, I thought Darry was so smart and I wanted to be smart like him, so I had this crazy idea that I could get all these A's and – I don't know why – but I thought it'd make it so that Darry could go to college. I don't even know what I was thinking. So I tried really hard in school and stuff, and then my first report card came."

"Sounds rough," I said.

"I got an A in auto mechanics and an A in gym. Everything else – I think I got a B in one class, but C's in most others. One D," he explained. "Mom and Dad were still proud, because this was really good for me, you know, I'm surprised they didn't hold me back in middle school. But it wasn't good enough. So I gave up."

"You gave up?" I asked. "Doesn't sound like you."

"Guess not," he replied. "I decided that school wasn't right for me. I guess when Mom and Dad died I took it as my cue to get out then."

"And Darry was okay with it, though," I said.

"I told you not to get any ideas," he said. "And he wasn't okay with it. Not at all. I remember when I first told him he didn't believe me. It was just a week after the funeral, and Darry had just picked up his second job. He told me no way was I working, that I was staying in school. I already had the part time job at the gas station, and I wanted the full time one."

"What changed his mind?" I asked.

"The bills started coming," Soda said. "Do you have any idea how much electricity costs?" I shook my head. "I didn't either, not until the bills came," he said.

"Yeah, but you don't regret working at a gas station. You like it there," I said.

"Maybe I like it all right," he said. "But when I was thirteen I wanted to be a cowboy. When I was fourteen I wanted to be an actor. When I was fifteen I wanted to be a mailman. It took me years to figure out what I wanted to be. You have no idea. You've got to stay in school until you decide, then we can talk about it."

"How am I supposed to know what I want to be?" I asked. "What's out there? I already know my future; it's the same future for every girl from this town."

"Don't talk like that," Soda said. "What do you like to do?"

"I don't know," I said. "I don't really like much of anything."

"You'll find it," Soda said.

For just a moment, I thought about telling Soda what Mrs. Sheridan had told me about that school. I thought about how she'd mentioned college. But that'd kill Soda to know that he couldn't get me everything I wanted. I couldn't make him feel like that.

"I really am trying my hardest," I said. "It's hard."

"I know," Soda said.

"What Darry said…that really hurt, didn't it?" I asked.

Soda nodded. "Nothing I can do about it, 'cause he's right. I may be happy working at a gas station, but I'm not happy about anything else. There's no pride behind the word drop-out. Darry's Superman. I'm nothing compared to him, and I've just got to accept that."

"I don't think that," I said. "I think you're both great, but in different ways."

"Thanks, Audrey," Soda said. He stood. "But what I'm trying to say is, you may think you're trying your hardest, but maybe you can try harder, I don't know. At least try and stick with it until you know what you want to do."

"Fair enough," I said. "You make it sound so easy, though."

"Dinner's ready," Soda said. "You hungry?"

I followed Soda into the kitchen. Pony stabbed his chicken so aggressively that I thought he'd stab right through the plate.

"You okay?" Soda asked. I smiled.

"I'm fine," Ponyboy muttered.

"Why are you smiling?" Soda asked me.

"Nothing," I said. Pony glared at me. Soda glanced between us.

"Fine," Ponyboy said. He dropped his fork on his plate and pushed his chair back from the table. "Things aren't going so well with Allison."

"Not going so well?" I asked. "It's a disaster."

"I'm sure it's not a disaster," Soda said. "Can't be that bad."

"Oh, it is," Pony replied. "She likes someone else."

"You must really hate this guy, I guess," Soda said.

"No," Ponyboy said quickly. I laughed.

"What?" Soda asked.

"I figured it out," Darry said. He grinned.

"What?" Soda asked. "Who?" The three of us stared at him. "Oh," he said, realization dawning. "Wait – really?"

Ponyboy nodded. He continued to stab his chicken.

"But she's…like, fourteen. And not my type. At all," Soda said.

Ponyboy shrugged. "Apparently, you're her type." As an afterthought, he sarcastically added, "Thanks."

"Not my fault I'm so good-looking," Soda said. He was joking, but Ponyboy kicked him anyway. "Hey," Soda said. "There are other girls."

Ponyboy shook his head. "I really liked her. Not anymore, though. Girls suck."

"Thanks," I said.

"You know what I mean," Ponyboy said. "Honestly, I can't believe how much of a – oh, never mind."

Pony was agitated the rest of the night. When he did his homework he practically stabbed the paper and ripped it in half. When he retired to his room, I followed him.

"There are other girls, you know," I pointed out.

Ponyboy shook his head. "Allison was special."

"You still like her?" I asked.

He nodded. "But I hate her at the same time. Is that possible?"

"Why not?" I said.

"What are you gonna do about your grades?" Ponyboy asked. He was trying to change the subject, and even though he made things better for himself, he made them worse for me.

"I don't know," I said. "Copy your homework?"

"I've never done homework for Modified Algebra," Ponyboy said. "Sorry," he added. "That was harsh."

Ponyboy claimed that Darry was too harsh on him about school, that he was too protective and overbearing. He had no idea how alike the two of them were. At times like these I couldn't tell them apart.

"I'm actually doing okay in Algebra," I said. I thought of Andrew. "Someone showed me how to do the Pythagorean Theorem, and now I get it."

"Yeah, I showed you," Ponyboy said. "Remember, a week ago?"

"Yeah, but I didn't understand it then," I said.

"Then who showed you how to do it?" he asked. Damn. He only wanted to know because he wanted to see who was "smarter" than him.

"Andrew Reynolds," I replied. I said the words before I realized that I could've lied. It was too late now.

"Andrew Reynold?" Ponyboy asked. "I think I know him. I didn't know you were friends with him."

"I'm not," I replied, and left the topic at that. "Well, I'm already grounded – probably for life – so it's not like I can make things worse."

"You're not grounded for life," Ponyboy said. "Just until you get your grades up."

"So, for life," I said. Ponyboy laughed.

"So this means no more 'not doing anything' you'll be doing," Ponyboy said. I didn't get it at first, but when I realized what he meant, I jumped off his bed and tried to smack him. He ducked and grabbed hold of my wrists.

"Let go," I breathed as I tried to break from his grasp. I tried to kick him, but I only lost my balance and fell. I banged my head on the side of his bed. "Ow!" I screamed, and he let go. I kicked his shin and rubbed my head.

"Can you keep it down?" Darry asked from the doorway. "And why on earth are you beating each other up?"

I look up. "I want a new brother."

"Yeah, well, I want a new sister," Ponyboy said. He rubbed his shin where I'd kicked it.

"Sorry," Darry said. "No new siblings."

"No fair," I muttered.

Ponyboy pulled up the leg of his jean; there was a monstrous bruise forming where I'd kicked him.

"Geez," Darry said. "You did that?" he asked me.

"You should see what I did to her," Ponyboy answered.

"Whatever happened to 'boys can't hit girls?'" I asked.

"I didn't hit you," Ponyboy said.

I tried to stand, but I stumbled. Everything was spinning.

"Whoa, sit down," Darry said. I sat on the bed, and everything stopped moving, but I still felt like someone was sticking a knife in my head. "Did you slam her head against the bedpost?" He sounded angry.

"Not really," Ponyboy said. "She tried to slap me so I held her wrists and then she lost her balance and knocked her head. It was purely self defense - her fault."

"Don't listen to him," I muttered. "It was his fault. You should ground him. And while you're at it, unground me…" I felt pretty woozy.

"Why did you try to slap him?" Darry asked.

"Because he's a horrible brother," I said.

"I just mentioned her incident with Bryon Douglas and she freaked out at me," Ponyboy said.

"He didn't just mention – " I began, but my head throbbed so hard that I couldn't say another word; I just glared at Ponyboy.

"Just make up and be quiet," Darry said. "There's ice in the kitchen." With that, he walked out of the room.

I looked quizzically at Ponyboy. "Is he okay?"

Ponyboy was still looking at the empty doorway. "He's always like that nowadays. He's been getting worse if anything. Ever since – " He stopped; neither of us talked about our parent's death unless completely necessary.

"I know," I said. "I wish he'd lighten up a bit."

Ponyboy nodded and lightly touched my hurting head with the back of his hand. "Sorry 'bout that," he said.

"Apology accepted if you shut up about Bryon already. I was an idiot, okay, I get it," I said.

"Kay, I will," Ponyboy replied. He increased the pressure of his hand to my hand. "That hurt?"

"Like hell!" I yelled and jerked away from his hand.

"Sorry," he said. "I'll go get some ice." He left, and I shut my eyes tight to block out the pain. At least now I'd have an excuse for failing this week.

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews so far; they mean a lot! Please review to this chapter, too. What do you think?