Soda is like a brother to me, but there's one thing about him that drives me crazy. When he says something that he knows is true, it sticks with you. And it's usually something you don't want to stick with you. Yet, his words about me hiding the pain and not wanting to be fixed were repeating themselves in my mind as I worked on the cars and even as I walked home from work later that night.

"Man, I hate it when he does this." I said out loud even though no one was with me to hear.

Why did I hate it? Because deep down, I knew he was right. And I hate to admit when anyone is right. Even Soda. That and, I didn't want to admit that I was hiding any pain I was feeling. Although, Soda and even Ponyboy knew that I was hurting. Soda was right. I was hiding the pain, or trying to hide it, because I didn't want to be fixed. I didn't want anyone to know that I, Steve Randle, the tough greaser, was hurting inside.

I walked inside my house for the first time in four days. I knew no one was home. But, there was a ten dollar bill and a note on the table from my father. I threw the note away without looking at it and slipped the money into my pocket. Then I walked to my room and changed my shirt, not bothering to button it.

I stood in the middle of my room for a few minutes, debating on whether or not I wanted to stay. I decided to go back to the Curtis' house. Soda had invited me. And, I didn't know what kind of mood my father would be in when he got home, so, I left and took my car which had been sitting in the garage to the Curtis' house.

Ponyboy was walking to the house from the vacant lot. He was probably there watching the sunset. "Hey, Steve."

"Hey." I replied. "And yes I'm staying over again."

Ponyboy gave me a look. One that I sometimes get from Soda so I knew what he was thinking.

"My dad left me ten dollars." I said casually.

"Ten?" Ponyboy asked. He gave a low whistle. "I wish I could get ten dollars. Darry struggles to give me five each week for lunch and stuff."

"What about Soda?" I asked knowing that Soda would give Pony his entire pay check if he had to.

Ponyboy grinned. "Yeah, you're right. But things are extra tight this month. Don't say anything, but Darry's hours at the construction site got cut. So, he's kind of struggling to pay the bills."

"Since you've kept your mouth shut good about last night when you walked to my place with me, I won't tell your secret either." I told him. Although, I knew Soda would tell me the same thing later. Soda tells me everything. "Soda's here, right?"

Ponyboy nodded. "Yeah. I think he's making the chocolate cake for tomorrow. I think I've given up on him not adding too much sugar."

I grinned and left Ponyboy outside to gaze at the stars that were just starting to come out. I was surprised that Ponyboy had managed to have a conversation with me. He was usually quiet. That and I usually couldn't wait to end a conversation with him.

"You did decide to come over." Soda said when he saw me.

"Yeah, dad left me ten dollars this time." I said, leaning against the door frame.

Soda raised his eyebrows. "Ten? And did it take away the pain? Did it fix anything?"

I sighed. "No, and I really hate it when your right."

"So, why don't you try to find help?" Soda asked, ignoring my comment.

"Soda, I can't." I said a little more pathetically than I intended.

"Why not? You could go to a counsilor or social worker at school. That's what Pony did after Johnny died. And it won't cost anything." Soda said as he placed the cake in the oven to bake.

"I don't know Soda." I said slowly.

Soda looked at me. "Steve, you can't deal with this on your own. Give me one good reason why you would not want to get help."

I thought for a minute. "Because, if I get help, it would mean bringing everything out into the open and feeling the pain and I don't want that."

"So, you admit that you are holding on to the pain?" Soda asked.

I nodded. "And I'm not sure if I can let it go."

Soda placed his hand on my shoulder. "I wish you would. It was hard enough seeing Johnny go through all that physical pain. I don't like seeing you go through the emotional pain either."

I knew Soda was speaking what he felt. But, I was not ready to get help. It was hard enough admitting that he was right. All I wanted to do was hide all the pain I was feeling inside and not let anyone else know that I was hurting. I wanted to remain the tough greaser that everyone thought was incapable of feeling pain of any sort.