Author's note: I MADE IT THROUGH THE FIRST WEEK OF SCHOOL! IT FELT LIKE A MONTH! *small hysterical sob* BUT I MADE IT!

Okay, done now. I just had to say that. It was so long and so painful. But it's Friday and I made it, so YAY!

Disclaimer: The Outsiders isn't mine.

Chapter 21: I Brought It On Myself

MOTLEY'S POV

Is it weird that I automatically knew something was up with Soda?

I was lying in bed that night, unable to sleep because this odd feeling was keeping me awake. I'm not sure how I knew, I just knew. I'd gotten this feeling before, usually on those days when Soda was a little quieter than usual. But I'd always thought it was just that I didn't like seeing my twin down. Now I wasn't so sure, considering I hadn't been anywhere near him for a while now.

I got up and headed out to the front room for some water. It's not like sleep was going to be happening any time soon, and I really was kind of thirsty. Besides, the apartment's nice when it's so quiet and dark.

It's strange that I like that so much now. When I was little, I hated it when the house was dark and quiet. It was just wrong on so many levels. Our house wasn't like that a lot, and when it was, it usually wasn't because of anything good. But after Mom and Dad died, I loved it when everyone was gone. When it all just stopped and no one was bothering me. They all wanted me to be happy like I used to be, like Soda was, and I just couldn't do it. Except when they were gone. Then I was happy.

Only, not really. I was happy, y'know, on the surface. But deep down, I wasn't. I never was. I didn't want them to leave me alone, really. But at the same time I did, and I just couldn't help it.

I know none of that makes any sense, but I don't care. Since when do feelings make sense?

"Motley, are you okay?" Christine came in and flipped on a light.

So much for dark and quiet. "Yeah, great. What gave ya the idea I wasn't?"

"You're sitting here by yourself in the dark looking like you just kinda wanna cry."

"No, I'm not."

"Saying it doesn't make it true."

"Prove it."

She sat down at the table, pulling me down into a chair next to her. "That's enough of that."

For just a second, I froze. My mom used to say that to me all the time. When I was wrestling Soda, when I had Ponyboy in a full nelson, when I threw little things at Darry while he was doing his homework. It was weird hearing it from somebody else.

"Just because you're having a hard time doesn't mean you need to take it out on me. You've got a lousy attitude and I'm sick of it."

"Excuse me?" Just who did this bitch think she was? I don't care how much I like a person, nobody talks to me that way. Nobody.

"If you'd just open your mouth and say something you actually meant for once in your life-"

"I mean everything I say!"

"Bullshit."

"Just because you don't believe it doesn't make it bullshit."

"You don't have to sit there and be cool and tough all the time, alright? Just talk to me."

"We've had this conversation before." And I really didn't want to have it again.

Apparently she was weirdly in tune with what I was thinking and didn't care about that. "And we're gonna have it again."

I glared at her. "I told you about my mother. I told you about my father. What else do you want from me?"

"I want you to tell me about Dallas. And then I want you to tell me about your brother."

"I've already told you about my brothers-"

"Not all of them, you haven't. You've told me about Ponyboy, you've told me about Soda. You've told me about the other boys who're your friends. But you've never told me about Darry."

"C'mon, can't you just accept there are some things I'm not particularly in the mood to discuss?"

"I would if you were ever in the mood to discuss them. But it's been a while since you first told me to leave it alone, Motley."

"Would you just stop it? You're not my mother."

"You're right. I'm not. But maybe that's a good thing. Your family relationships seem pretty complicated. Maybe it's best for you to talk to someone who's not stuck in the middle of it all."

"Whatever." She had a fair point, but that didn't mean I had to like it.

"Look, can you just tell me what it is your brother did to you that's so wrong?"

I thought back over the last nine months. All the times Darry'd yelled at me when I wasn't doing anything wrong. All the times that all I'd wanted was some love and comfort but he wouldn't give it to me, claiming that I brought it on myself. Or more recently, how he chose some bitch over me. His little brother.

What kind of a sick twisted world is this?

"He doesn't care about me." I said finally. "Everything else he did, it all came from that. It doesn't matter. In the end, it all comes down to the fact that he loves his precious girlfriend and doesn't give a shit about me."

"Motley, how can that possibly be-"

"He chose her over me again and again and again. I think that's how it can possibly be true."

"How long have they been going out?"

"A while, okay? He told me, but I don't really remember."

"Why not?"

"Well, at the time, I was a little busy trying to explain why I'd been thinking of jumping off the 11th street bridge."

She was silent for a second. "I guess that would be the focus of that conversation."

"Not that he gave me a chance to explain. He was going out on a date with her, so he was busy. Too busy for me. As per usual."

"That's horrible."

I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "There are worse things."

She looked at me more closely. "There isn't just one universal worst thing. It varies from person to person. And maybe for someone else there are worse things, but not for you."

Damn, that was deep. And too terrifyingly true for comfort.

"Well, what's worst for you?"

For a second, I thought she might just slap me. "And why the hell to you expect me to answer that?"

"If you want honesty from me, I want it from you." Gotcha, sucker.

Her mouth was a thin line, but she answered anyhow. "Fine. The worst thing for me is having someone taken from me."

I could've asked why, but I wasn't sure I wanted to have that emotional of a conversation just then. I don't like sharing my problems, and I don't like it when other people do it either. Basically, if feelings are involved, I'm out.

But the words came out anyway before I even knew what was going on. "Why?"

She actually did slap me this time. "That is none of your business."

I stood up. "I'm goin' back to bed. Goodnight."

"Motley-"

"Listen, if you wanna know all this stuff about me, I got every right to know all that stuff about you. If it's none of my business, it's none of your business. Savvy?"

"I-"

"You're bein' a hypocrite and you know it. 'Ooh, Motley, tell me everything! Bear your soul to me, please! But if you ask a question, I'm gonna smack you and tell you it's none of your business!' Yeah, 'cause that makes sense."

She called after me, but I left and went back to my room anyhow. She tried to talk to me through the door for the next hour, but I didn't answer her. I was just finished with all of this. Besides, what else, really, was there to say?

DARRY'S POV

It was the weirdest thing. I'd spent so much time thinking about Cealia, and now she was just another ex. I had plenty of those, whatever Steve may have said about my love life, and I thought it would be easy to shove her into the same category as all the rest of them. But it wasn't, and that was freaking me out. What was it with her, no matter what she did or said, that just made me care?

I didn't voice these thoughts to Ponyboy. He wouldn't take very kindly to any of them, and since we'd just gotten ourselves back onto halfway decent footing, I wasn't in the mood to screw it up again.

What I really wanted was for Soda to call. I felt like I needed to talk to him about what Cealia said, make sure he knew I didn't feel that way. Soda may have dropped out, and he may have made his fair share of mistakes, but he didn't deserve what she'd said. He was one of the best people I'd ever met, a by far better person than me. But he doesn't believe that. I feel like part of it might be that people don't really tell him that ever, but he gets told about everything wrong with him plenty.

These thoughts I did mention to Ponyboy. He understood how I felt about Soda, at the very least. But what he said in response shocked me.

"You realize that's part of the problem with Motley too, right? You always tell him what he did wrong, never what he did right. Like that time he saved Soda and sent that Soc to the hospital. You just stood there and yelled at him. All he needed was thank you and I love you."

Author's afterthought: And on that note...

PLEASE REVIEW! I'll try and have something else for you guys by next Friday. We'll see how it goes.