"I really like you, Steve," Evie said, taking her boyfriend's hand.

"I like you too," Steve said, kissing her cheek.

"I packed plenty of food." Evie pulled away from the kiss and opened the picnic basket.

"Good. I'm starved." Steve grabbed one of the sandwiches..

"You always are." Evie giggled and rolled her eyes.

"It's really nice out here," Steve commented between bites.

"I love it," Evie said, admiring the tall trees and the wavy green grass that surrounded their spot next to the creek.

"Evie, will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes! I will! I was hoping you'd ask." Evie smiled.

That had been their first official date after months of hanging out together. It was over a year ago now.

Evie smiled sadly, wondering if it had been hard for Steve to even let a woman touch him after what he'd been through.

Steve had never rushed things with her physically. She truly appreciated that about him, but now, she thought there may be another layer of reason behind that.

As soon as Steve had mentioned that he could feel Clara's hands still touching him and could feel her kissing him, Evie's stomach had dropped. His dad had caught that woman in his bed with him, and Steve had obviously been traumatized by the entire ordeal from that time in his life.

Evie wasn't upset with Steve in the least, but this bothered her in a way that she couldn't explain to him right now when he must have so much going on in his head. She couldn't burden him with her thoughts. It wasn't his fault, after all.

Evie enjoyed being with Steve, and that hadn't changed, but she couldn't help but think that his view of her must be distorted. What did he think about when she touched him? Did he have to fight memories of abuse whenever they were together? Evie didn't want to be the one to remind Steve of Clara. She wanted to be his girl, but she was afraid of hurting him even more. That was the last thing Steve deserved.

Steve had said he was eleven when all of this happened. Was their intimate relationship a reason it was bothering him now? Evie felt nauseous just thinking about it. She'd never touch Steve again if it would bring back such horrid memories for him.

"TwoBit took a while to calm down earlier," Pony said, as he stretched out on the bed next to Soda.

"I bet," Soda replied, not turning over to look at his little brother.

"Soda, is Steve all right?"

"I don't know, Pone, " Soda said, burying his face into his pillow.

"Are you?"

"I don't know that either." Soda's voice broke, as tears started falling.

"I'm sorry I asked. Please don't cry." Pony laid his head against Soda's shoulder and tossed an arm over him.

Darry looked in at them, saw Soda's flowing tears, and sighed. "Oh, little buddy, I knew this was coming," he said. "Pone, could you give us a minute?"

"Yeah, but please don't leave me in the dark forever," Pony said, as he left his brothers alone.

Darry shut the door before kneeling down next to Soda and rubbing his back soothingly. "Shh. It's okay," he said. "Steve's going to be all right."

"I wish I could've helped, Darry. I wish I could've stopped it," Soda cried. "I was around her, and me and Steve were always together, but I had no idea."

"I know, Soda. But you couldn't have known," Darry reassured him.

Soda felt a surge of anger. "And his dad! How could he try to act like nothing happened? It's like Steve was all alone."

"But he wasn't alone. You were still there. And you know what I think?" Darry asked, thinking of what he had overheard Nicholas Randle say to his dad.

"What?" Soda asked, sitting up and drying his tears.

Darry pulled himself up to sit next to Soda. "I think Mom and Dad knew. I told you about Steve's dad talking to our dad that day about how Clara died, so maybe he said more than that," he said.

"I hope so. They would've looked out for Steve even more if they did know about really happened." Soda took a shuddering breath. "Maybe he wasn't so alone then."

"Can I ask you something that might be hard to think about?" Darry asked, thinking of his conversation with Soda the first night Steve had mentioned Clara when he was drinking.

"Okay," Soda answered hesitantly.

"You said you saw Clara staring at you. Do you think she...?" Darry couldn't finish the question, but knew Soda would understand what he was trying to ask.

"Yeah. I do," Soda said, feeling a chill shoot through him when he remembered Clara's stare that had seemed so harmless. "She was telling me I was handsome like Dad. Then Steve, out of nowhere, asked if he could come to our house instead."

"He didn't want her to hurt you."

"We left so fast, she didn't get a chance to say another word." Soda sighed, feeling his tears return.

"Doesn't surprise me a bit, Sodapop. You've always been the brother Steve never had."

"I just wish I could've done the same thing for him." Soda choked on a sob.

Darry fiercely pulled him into an embrace, letting his little brother cry into his chest. "I know you do. But I'm so glad she didn't get a chance to hurt you, Pepsi Cola," he said fervently, trying to hold back his own emotions at the thought of anyone hurting Sodapop.

"What are you boys up to?" Rose asked Steve and Soda.

"We're going to the park to play football, Mom," Steve said.

"Yeah, Keith's coming too. And Darry's going to teach us some of what he's learned on the team at his school," Soda said happily.

"Sounds fun! Be back in time for dinner, Stevie," Rose said, smiling at the boys.

"Oh! I forgot my jacket," Steve said, running back inside.

"Soda, keep an eye on him, will you? He gets nervous throwing the ball when everyone's watching," Rose said quietly.

"Always, Mrs. Randle," Soda replied.

Steve came running back outside, his jacket on this time.

"Have fun, boys," Rose yelled, as they headed in the direction of the park.

She touched her forehead, feeling a sudden sharp pain. Maybe I just need a nap and something to eat, she thought, also beginning to feel nauseous.

"Hey, what's-" Soda stopped. "Nevermind," he rushed to say, shoving the photo he'd found out of sight.

"What?" Steve asked.

They had been looking through Steve's old yearbooks, laughing at the school pictures they'd taken over the years.

"Just a picture. No big deal. I don't know how it got shoved in here," Soda said quickly. "Hey, look at this. Do you remember that dance?" he asked, shoving another yearbook at Steve.

"What was in the picture?" Steve insisted.

Soda sighed, holding it out to him.

"Oh," Steve said, understanding Soda's hesitation now.

It was a photo of Clara and his dad. Steve stared at it for a moment before Soda pulled it back out of his sight.

"Hey, why don't we go make some lunch?" Soda asked, wanting Steve to forget seeing that photo.

"Lunch was a long time ago, man! Try dinner! You don't have to try so hard, Soda. I'm okay. I haven't had any more panic attacks or..." Steve trailed off, wondering what to call the other scarier incident. "Memory attacks," he decided to say.

Darry had told him about his mom's aunt having panic attacks, so at least he understood what that was. As for feeling like he was reliving his worst memories, Steve didn't know the term for it. He wasn't sure there was one, and he just considered it a high-powered nightmare that took place when he was awake.

"All right," Soda said, stacking the yearbooks. "Hey, have you talked to Evie again?"

"I've called her, but she doesn't say much. It's like she doesn't know what to say to me or something."

"I'm sorry, man. It honestly surprises me though. I think she'll come around."

There was a small rumble of thunder, and Steve glanced out his bedroom window. "Sounds like we're in for a storm," he said.

"Must be all this heat. It's after dark and still hotter than Hades out there," Soda said, going to stand by the window.

A bolt of lightning flashed brightly across the sky.

"You need to get away from there, man." Steve laughed. "It'll blind you."

"Yeah. I'm seeing dots. Looks cool out there though. I like watching it." The rain began to pour down. "I'm going to grab a snack. I'll be right back."

Soda headed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, just as there was another flash of lightning, and the lights blinked twice before going out completely.

Evie gazed at herself in the bathroom mirror, as she applied her eye shadow and mascara.

She was going with a few friends to hang out at the bowling alley. She felt like she needed a girls' night.

Maybe if Evie could talk with friends and bowl a few games, she'd stop thinking about Steve so much. She really missed him, and she felt bad for avoiding seeing him. It was just that she need a little time to figure things out for herself.

"Hey, Evie, it's raining out, so be sure to grab your umbrella," her dad yelled from his office.

"Sure, Dad! Thanks!" Evie replied, as she applied a little bit of shiny lip gloss.

Evie was going to go out for the night to talk with the girls and bowl and forget about what was on her mind. That's what she told herself anyway, and it was honestly her only intention.

"Steve, you got a flashlight, man? It's almost too dark to see!" Soda yelled. "Steve?" he tried again, not getting an answer.

The thunder was roaring again when Soda got back to Steve's room.

"Hey, do you-" Soda stopped when he saw Steve pressing himself against the wall, as if trying to hide. "What's going on?" he asked.

Steve didn't reply. He only looked around wildly, pulling his knees close to his chest, as he shook with fear.

"Steve?" Soda tried again, looking into Steve's eyes and inching just a little closer.

He knew this must be what his friend had told him about. Memories had flooded him, and he was trapped with Clara all over again in his mind.

Steve could see Clara lying close to him.

"Just go away," he pleaded.

"It's just me, Steve. No one else is here right now," Soda said softly.

"No, please, you're hurting me," Steve cried, and Soda fought not to draw too close to his friend.

"You know I'd never hurt you," Clara said sweetly, and Steve felt her kiss his temple.

Steve didn't speak again, as he shut his eyes tightly.

"No one is going to hurt you, buddy," Soda insisted, kneeling about a foot in front of Steve. "Come on, open your eyes. She's not here. I promise."

Steve did open his eyes, looking right at Sodapop. He could still feel his heart pounding, as he glanced around the dark room and heard the pouring rain. "Soda?" he questioned, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah, it's only me." Soda finally settled next to Steve and rested a hand on his shoulder. "That's what you told me about, ain't it?"

Steve only nodded and bowed his head, feeling himself shaking.

"Hey, where's your flashlight? It keeps getting darker. No telling when the power will come back on," Soda said.

"That bottom drawer." Steve pointed to a chest of drawers not far from them.

Soda opened the drawer and pulled out the flashlight, switching it on.

"Come on, Soda, don't shine it in my face! It's kind of bright, man!" Steve exclaimed, shielding his face.

"Oh. Sorry," Soda apologized, pointing away from them and setting it down, before he sat back returned to his spot next to Steve. "Are you okay?" he asked, serious again.

"I guess so. I don't know. I don't know how to stop the memories. It's like I'm reliving it. She's dead, and here I am reliving it! It feels that real, and I get all confused." Steve sighed, wanting to cry again, but not letting it happen.

"Stevie, you're not going to want to hear this, but do you know what I think you should do?"

"What?" Steve wondered.

"I think-" Soda stumbled over his words. " I think you should talk to someone. I mean, you know, someone who knows about this stuff and can help."

Steve shook his head fiercely, his eyes wide with fear. "No. I can't talk to a stranger. No way, Sodapop!" he nearly yelled.

"Just think about it. It might be better than you think."

"No, I can't. It was hard enough to tell you what happened to me. I can't tell some shrink, who will just see me as another head case!"

"Just think about it, please. That's not how anyone will see you."

"Please just drop it!" Steve jumped to his feet and started pacing. "I wish I'd never told you or anybody else. Especially not Evie!"

"Steve, please calm down. I was only trying to help. You know that, and I'm not sorry at all that you told me." Soda also got to his feet.

"Nothing helps! I can't do this anymore!" Steve cried forcefully, before he grabbed the lamb from his table and hurled it at the window, shattering the glass. He moved forward and raised his fist at what was left of the window.

Soda quickly reacted and grabbed Steve's arm, pulling him back. "It's definitely not going to help if you cut up your hand in a window, man," he said.

Wind and rain blew through the broken window, and Steve jerked himself away from Soda, pacing across the room. "I hate all of this, Soda! Why did she have to do it? I hate these damn memories she left me," he shouted, as he began to pound his fists into the wall.

"I hate it too, Steve! But it's not going to be this hard forever!" Soda yelled, feeling powerless against the pain that had seized his friend so violently.

Steve pounded the wall with his fists over and over, but the hard hits faded into soft taps, as he cried more and pressed his face against the wall. "I just want it to stop," he sobbed.

Soda came up behind Steve and wrapped his arms around his best friend. He still held on when Steve let himself drop to his knees, weak from the emotions rippling through him.

"I've been trying so hard, man," Steve cried, clutching onto Soda's arms that held him.

"I know, buddy. I know." Soda felt Steve tremble weakly.

"It just hurts so much, Sodapop."

Soda felt his chest actually ache at the pain in Steve's voice and fought back tears, as he spoke again. "I know it does. I'd do anything to make it better. Please just remember me and the gang all love you. Your dad loves you too." He leaned his head against Steve's shoulder and closed his eyes, as if he could will his friend to feel comforted.

"I wish my dad had never met her, then I wouldn't be like this."

"I hate that you're hurting, buddy. But just don't forget I'm always here for you. You have to hang on, okay?" Soda still didn't let go.

"I don't know if I can."

Soda shifted, so he sat in front of Steve, hands still on his shoulders. "You can. I promise you're going to be okay. You'll get through this."

Suddenly, the lights blinked back on, and Steve stared at Soda with his eyes red and tears still sliding down his face. "I hope you're right, man, cause I can't take much more," he said, taking a deep breath, as he saw some wind and rain still blowing into the window he'd broken.