Here's the second-to-last chapter. I'm sorry, but Dallas didn't have the time to put his two cents in today…

-Subway

STEVE'S POV

The airport, O'Hare, was huge. We got to the front desk and the lady that took our money was confused that we gave her five hundred-dollar bills to pay for the tickets. Compared to the clothes we were wearing, I don't think she expected us to have near enough to what we gave her. But she handed us the tickets without asking questions.

Darry reminded Tim, Curly, and I that the people that worked here wouldn't allow us to bring our blades on the plane.

"But…I've had this baby for five years now!" Tim complained, looking at his blade. I knew how bad he must have felt. With the little money that Tim had, it must have taken him a while to rummage up the cash to buy it. Then again, he could have stolen it.

Darry didn't seem to care. "Go toss it. Ponyboy, you better do a damn good job of hiding yours."

Taking a last-second glare at the youngest Curtis, Tim sulked over in the direction of the trash can, and the rest of us followed him. Once we reached the round, plastic bin, Curly tossed his blade into the trash like it was no big deal and then walked away. Tim and I, we just stood there. He held the switchblade in his hand and stared at it. "This is bullshit," he admitted.

I smiled, and wrapped my arm around him, pressing his depressed body against mine. "When we get back to Tulsa, I'll buy you a new one. I promise." I ruffed up his un-greased hair and then let go of him, tossing my blade into the trash.

He sighed, and then did the same. We stood there for a while, sharing a silent remorse as we stared at the switchblades that were just sitting there on top of the pile of trash.

I lightly punched Tim on the shoulder, and then said to him, "We should get going."

I turned around to walk towards the gang, but Shepard grabbed me by the shoulder and stopped me. I looked to see what he wanted, and he was looking down at the ground, looking dejected. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but he didn't say anything. I turned to face him, and he let go of me. He looked me in the eyes, and gulped. "Steve, I don't think things are going too well between us."

I stared at him. He was right. I looked at my feet, and then nodded.

"You're the most amazing person I've ever met, and I have to say, you've changed my life. But this relationship thing…it just ain't workin'." He smiled at me. It surprised me at how calm he was. "Buddy, this is probably the lamest thing I'll say in all my years, but you and Soda were pretty much made for each other. Don't let him slip away, you hear me?"

"Yeah," I said softly, not really knowing if I wanted to cry or hug him.

"We'll be okay," he shrugged, smiling.

"Yeah. I know." I hugged him, even though he really wasn't as into it as I was. I guess this was the perfect ending to the most imperfect relationship. It was the true definition of 'let's still be friends.' I was happy with the way he handled it.

"We should get going, shouldn't we?"

"Yeah." I nodded appreciatively at Tim. He flashed me a buttermilk smile, and, as I passed him, casually patted me on the back with his always-thorny touch. What he just did completely changed my opinion of him.

PONYBOY'S POV

On the morning of December 23rd, the plane landed pretty roughly. This, of course, woke me up. I slept as well as I usually did in next to Curly and his sweet scent, and I could already feel my mind racing. I shook Curly awake as I noticed everyone was getting up off the plane.

"So where do you think Dally is?" Steve asked as we walked to the rent-a-car center. "This city is even bigger than the one before. We've gotten extremely lucky, and you all know it. This is the final leg. We can't screw up."

Steve's sudden motivational skills surprised me, and even scared me a little. But, as always, he was right. And I knew where Dally was. "He has to be at my old house. I don't think there are any other options. That would be Dally's first place to look."

"Great," said Darry, walking into the building. "I'll go get a car for us. I'll pick you all up out front in a bit." I nodded and he disappeared through the front door.

I wondered what was going through Dally's mind. He had to be scared out of his mind that he hasn't found me yet. What if he was at my house right now and I wasn't there? He'd think that there was nothing to live for. He'd probably get killed. And I'd never be able to tell him that there was good in the world, like Johnny wanted me to tell him.

"Shotgun!" somebody suddenly burst out, and I heard that it was Soda. I looked up from my feet and saw that Darry arrived with the car, which was a beige clunker, but was large enough to fit us all. And it smelled a hell of a lot better than our Ford. I watched, amused, as Sodapop darted towards the passenger's seat.

Tim grabbed him by the collar and stopped him. "You wish. I have to give our chauffer here the directions." Tim said, hopping in the seat next to my brother.

Soda rolled his eyes and sat in the back seat. Tim was right, and he knew it. We all knew it.

During the drive, the mood changed dramatically. It was dead silent in the car, and there was a thick intensity looming in the air. Tim directed Darry through every left and right that he knew. When we pulled up to the apartment building that Dallas supposedly lived in, I swear that my heart was beating so loudly, everyone could hear it. After parking our car on the side of the road, we made our way into the building.

The apartment building was tall, grey, and dirty, just how I would have thought it to be. The inside was even more ghostly then the exterior. The man at the front desk gave us a small nod out of greeting. Seeing him, I was glad to know for sure that the building wasn't abandoned.

Tim led the way upstairs to Dally's fourth-story old house. The stairs were cement and dusty, and there was a small, matted rat sleeping on the top step that Two-Bit shooed away once we got there. Tim led us three doors to the left: Dally's old apartment. I pushed the door open, and, surprisingly, the door swung open with the force. For some reason, it wasn't locked.

The five of us stepped inside cautiously. I looked around, and everything was there, but just dirty and dusty. The shelves were caked with grime, and there were three rats hanging out on the top of the kitchen counter, nibbling on something. I stood there, thoroughly amazed, and then realized a piece of paper on the coffee table.

I tiptoed over to the table to pick up the note. And my heart sank to my toes once I realized who it was from.

"Dear reader:

This letter is not for you. If you happen to know Darrel Curtis or anybody close to him, please give this to them. Do not read the rest of this. If you read the rest of this, you'll have a steep and painful price to pay.

Dear gang:

Today is December 23rd. Around three in the morning. I doubt that you will ever receive this letter, and if you do, it will be a long time from now. But if you end up reading this, just gonna say that I'm sorry. It's been one hell of a ride, and all this time I've had something to live for, but now I just don't. Life just isn't the same anymore.

I didn't know where I was running to; I just knew I had to get away. The death of Johnny was eating away at me something terrible. It got so awful, and I missed himso bad that I just couldn't take it no more, and I had to go back to New York.

I started in Topeka, Kansas, because I remember Buck saying there were a few good bars to hit while up there. I thought it would get my mind off of Johnny, but it really didn't. I went to St. Louis next, on my way to Decatur. I ran out of money for gas so I ended up robbing some ice cream place. Surprisingly, it got me tons of cash. In Decatur, I got into another fight, but there were no fists thrown, even though I came close. Chicago was hell, because I nearly got robbed by this little kid and his old man. I ended up teaching the kid what's what. I guess that there was something about me that attracted fights, because this asshole drunk named Andrew got me right upside the jaw. Of course, I didn't let that slide, and I got him right back. But he didn't take that to well. He and his buddies gave me a thorough beating and I had to go to the hospital for a few days. I had this weird feeling the whole time that you guys were following me, like trying to look for me or something. But, of course, that wasn't the case. And that stupid assumption that I made just makes me feel even worse. I drove to New York after that. And even though I went through all of this, I still don't feel any better about Johnnycake. I don't think that I'll ever get over it.

My life is over. I, literally, have nothing to live for. I have no family. My dad probably thinks that I'm dead. I have no job. So nobody would care if I disappear, huh?

Life is not good. I don't think I can take it much longer. It's eating away at me. Without Johnny, I don't see the purpose in living.

I really hope you guys get this note.

- Dallas"

The note slipped from my hand and drifted onto the floor. Dally's dead. He killed himself. We were a split second too late.

I swore. I spit out an endless chain of cuss words; most of them were ones I've never used before, or at least not in front of Darry. Dallas was dead. I would never see him again. The most important person in the world to me right now was gone forever, and I couldn't stand it. If we came here a minute earlier, I could see him and he'd be okay.

I guess Dally said it right: life is not good.

I left. I knew the gang was following me in complete awe, but I didn't turn back to make sure. I sat in the car, in the front seat again, and next thing I knew, we were driving back to the airport.

Darry was trying to keep one eye on me and one on the road. "Ponyboy…I'm sorry…"

I couldn't look at him. "Don't be. It ain't your fault." It was my fault, and I knew it. I tried to get the thought out of my head, but I couldn't think of anything but Dally. I had a feeling it was going to be like this for a while. All my fears were coming true. This could be the trigger to my life spiraling downhill. Or maybe everything was going to get better after this. But I didn't care right then. I couldn't think. My mind was plagued.

Steve and Soda were sitting next to each other, staring at their feet. Curly was looking around worriedly at all of us, wishing that we would all cheer up, but he didn't say anything. Darry drove with his hands gripped on the wheel so tight, his knuckles were white. Two-Bit looked like shit, whether it's because that he was upset about Dallas or that his blade was still missing.

Tim looked like all of his emotions were dead. The fire in his eyes had burnt out. He looked exhausted, sad, and worried, all at once. Almost like he had his heart ripped out of his chest. I knew that he would feel the worst of it, for whatever reason.

In the car, we didn't talk to each other. Maybe nobody knew what to say, or maybe they just didn't want to say anything in front of me or Tim. Either way, I didn't care. Silence was golden.

I sat with Curly on the plane, and I was happy about it. He kept his mouth shut, maybe out of habit from an experience or two with Tim when he was in a similar mood. But if I wanted to talk to anybody right now, it was him. So I couldn't help it but to start conversation.

"I can't believe it, Curly," I said to him, "It all feels like the movies. I keep thinking that, if we left Tulsa one minute earlier, we would have caught up to Dally. And he wouldn't be dead." The truth of that statement hit me hard, and made me feel even worse.

"Aw, Pony, you don't know if he's dead or not," he comforted me, looking at me like I was a puppy. "Don't go jumping to conclusions."

I leaned my head on his shoulder just said what was on my mind. "Life isn't good," I said.

"Life is great," he countered straightforwardly, trying to cheer me up, but it wasn't working like it usually would have.

"No it's not!" I snapped, "The two most important people in the world are dead! My entire life is completely fucked."

Curly was petting my head now, but I didn't think he realized he was doing that. "It's going to be alright. It always turns out alright. And don't worry about Johnny. He died a hero, Ponyboy."

"Listen, I've never loved anybody more than I have Johnny. And he's gone, and I've never shared my feelings for him." That made my head spin. I've never told anybody about my feeling for Johnny, not even Sodapop. But I told Curly, and that was something that put me to attention at my feelings for him. I must have really trusted him. "I have nobody. I mean, you have Angela and even Tim. I have absolutely nobody."

"Well…I love you," he said simply and confidently. I could almost feel him smiling.

"What?" I asked, completely dumbfounded.

"I said-"

"No," I cut him off, "I heard you; but what?" My heart was beating so hard I was sure Curly could hear it.

Curly spoke hesitantly, "I don't know if this is the right time to tell you this, but…" he swallowed audibly, and then spoke smoothly, "Since the day I met you, I've known that there was something special about you. And I've gotten to know you more and more, and you're just the most amazing person I've ever met. It got to the point where I could see you in every dream that I dreamt. And I didn't know what that meant, you know? So I just felt this weird urge to protect you like you're my kid or something. I try to keep you safe from Tim because I know you're scared of him, and I don't like to see you scared. There's this high that I get around you, Pony, and it's something that I crave. And I don't know what it is that I'm feeling." Curly paused. "Every single thing that you do makes me smile. Everything. When I get hurt or get in a fight with someone or if my brother yells at me, you always do something that makes me feel better and smile. There are…certain things about you that drive me crazy. I love the moment of truth in your lies. I love the way you make me drool. Even though I'm flat broke you make me feel like…like a million bucks." Curly laughed a little. "I could never tell Tim this; he'd probably kill me. He wouldn't understand…how I feel. Hell, I don't even understand. I've never felt this way before about anybody."

I could feel my mouth hung open, and I was glad Curly couldn't see that. I spoke slowly and shakily. "Curly…," I searched for words that were not there. "That's just…wow." This was utterly unbelievable to me.

If Curly liked me this much, how come he's never told me? And, more importantly, how could I not have known? The way he's always treated me should have given it away. The way he defended me from Andrew and James, the way he keeps me clear from Tim, the way he helps me fight in all of those rumbles, and just the way his eyes sparkle when he looks at me. Those things all should have given it away. All those moments I had with Curly. Curly was the most important person in my life. And I felt the same way about him.

As I realized this, my heart got caught in my throat. I thought that never after Johnny would I be able to have as strong of feelings for someone else. I thought I wouldn't be able to speak, but, softly, I managed. "I…can't give you as great of a speech as you gave me but I just want you to know that I feel the same. None of my friends know what I've been through like you do. I think that I was made for you." I paused, mustering up the strength to speak the next three words, those that I knew were strong words that you only say if you mean it. I meant it. So I said it. "I love you, Curly."

Curly was in some sort of state of awe, as if he wasn't expecting me to reply with that. He took a small, relieved breath, and then continued, "Wow." I lifted my head from his shoulder to look at him. His dazzling blue eyes were glowing crazy. He was thrilled.

I couldn't help it. I leaned over, and quickly kissed him on the cheek. I pulled away from him to see the look on his face, and he was all pink, and he was trying to hold back a smile, but he was unsuccessful. I gave him a sly 'did you like it' smile, even though I knew the answer was yes.

He scooted closer to me, and I rested my head against his broad chest. I lay there, listening to his strong heart, and I fell asleep to its beat.

I know what you're feeling. You don't know whether to be sad that Dally died, or be happy for Ponyboy and Curly. It's hard, I know. I miss Dallas, too.
And I know that this is slightly off-topic and you may not care, but I took Steve's character in a way I love to take all of my characters. Remember the previous chapter where Steve was sharing his thoughts to Two-Bit of he and Soda's relationship, and when Two-Bit kept saying 'yeah'? Well, in the chapter you just read, Steve was saying 'yeah' pretty often. I made him say that because of the contrast if brings from his thoughts and his actions. It develops his character pretty well. I guess I'm telling you this as a tip. It's a good direction to take a character you're portraying.

There's another chapter coming ASAP.

-Subway