I said a hurried goodbye to Coach and Laura, gathered my new plants up from the trunk, and stood at the gate and waved at Laura through the car window as they drove away. I noticed Soda had moved up onto the couch from where he had been sitting on the stairs, probably not wanting to be seen by Coach K. I opened the gate, dropped my plants on the ground just inside, and went up to the porch. Soda tossed his butt over the rail - he knew I hated the smell of cigarettes - and patted the seat next to him. I went over and sat, and he pulled me into a hug, just holding me, for what seemed like ten minutes. Finally, he loosened his grip and leaned back into the couch, letting out a huge sigh, his eyes watery.

"Are you okay?" I asked him, softly. He turned to wipe his eyes.

"I don't know," he answered. "I just don't know anything anymore, Scout – what's right, what's wrong… what to forgive, and what not to… I just don't know."

"Do you want to talk about it? I'll listen... I'm sure I don't know any answers, but I'll listen. I promise."

"No… yeah – I don't know, Scout. It was so hard. I didn't expect it to be so hard. I expected it to be just me being mad and him being sorry and I'd just tell him I'd need time to decide what I forgive him for and what I don't… but it was so much harder than that."

"Tell me," I said, taking his hand. "I want to know. I can handle it, Soda. I know I have you and Darry and Pony to keep me safe… I need to know."

"It was like… it wasn't even like it was him, Scout. He was just sitting there – like a shell of himself, or something. I was all ready, to be angry with him – to hate him… but he was already so… I don't know, sad. Like he was already broken in pieces, and who breaks something more, when it's already broken?"

"You don't, Soda, and that's okay. That's a good thing. I told you before… You don't have to hate him, because of me… That wasn't him, who hurt me...I told you that. That didn't even seem like Steve."

"I know what you mean, now... I mean, talking to him… He told me, Scout, about what his dad did to him - how he was hurting him, all this time. He never told me – and I never figured it out. I never figured it out, just like I never figured out that he was the one who'd hurt you. That kills me, in both situations, that I loved these people, I cared about them, yet I was too stupid to see what was going on right in front of my face. God! It was right there, and I never even saw it!"

"We didn't want you to know. We were hiding it from you. You weren't stupid, Soda – you're not stupid, and I hate it that you're always saying that. Nobody knew what was happening to him – or that it was Steve that had hurt me – it wasn't just you who didn't figure it out."

"I'm just.. I'm so confused. I don't know what to do. I can't even figure out how I feel about him now."

"It might take some time to figure it out," I said, softly, looking down at his hand which I was still holding. "I'm not sure how I feel about things now, either. I mean, I get that his Dad was… doing things to him, but I don't really get why that made him hurt us… Sandy and me."

"I didn't get it, either… I asked him about that."

"Did he answer?"

Soda was quiet and I tried not to pry.

Finally he spoke up, softly.

"Scout… I mean, I know what you've been through and all, but still, I'm not sure if I should talk about some of this stuff with you. I mean, you're still a kid. I just… I don't want to tell you stuff that maybe you shouldn't know. Darry would kill me."

I leaned against him, still staring down at his hand.

"I won't say anything to Darry about what you tell me. I promise. Not if you don't want me to. I don't know if you talked to him about what I told you – about how it happened… and I don't care if you did, because I never asked you not to... and I think he wants – maybe he needs to know, and I'm not sure I can keep telling, over and over…"

"I didn't say anything to him, Scout. You trusted me, and I wouldn't break that trust without at least asking you, first."

"Neither would I," I said, looking up at his face and seeing his eyes watering again. I let go of his hand and wiped them. "But, if you don't want to tell me, I'll understand."

"No," he whispered. "I do… I think... you deserve to know, it's just that – I mean, nobody would have ever talked about this kinda stuff with me when I was your age."

"My circumstances are a lot different than yours were," I reminded him.

"Yeah," he agreed, and was quiet again, this time it was him taking my hand and rubbing it with his thumb. He finally started talking again, so quietly that I could hardly hear him.

"What his Dad was doing to him… guys aren't supposed to do that… with other guys... I mean, Steve hated it, - he told me that, and I know he did…But his Dad… he tried to convince him that he liked it, Scout, that he liked guys."

I didn't answer. I knew there were men who liked other men, though I didn't know any personally.

"It made him angry… and when he was taking the drugs – he says, anyway, he just lost control. The anger took over, and he felt like he had to prove - to himself, anyway - that he was a real man, that he liked girls, that he was in control, and strong, and… I don't know…" Soda pulled me tight against him.

"I don't know why he had to hurt you, Scout, or Sandy... I heard what he was saying but… God, if I had just figured it out, nothing would be all screwed up like this."

"You can't blame yourself for what was happening with him any more than you can for what happened to me. It's not your fault. It's just not."

I know, but think about how it feels for me! I mean, God, Scout. Think about how if feels to know that you were screaming for me, yelling out at me to come help you, to rescue you from the guy who was supposed to be my best friend, while he tried to rape you, with me just down the hall. You yelled for me, Scout, and I didn't come, because I was drunk because I was out drinking with him! God. How am I supposed to forgive myself for that? I can't"

He was sobbing now, and yelling. Ben must have heard him from his house because he came around the corner. I saw him before Soda did and shook my head, and he retreated back around the corner of the house. I had a feeling he stayed and listened, though.

"Soda, no. Stop. I'm the one who got hurt, and I don't blame you. I never did, and I never will."

"And Sandy, GOD! I trusted him to drive her home and he rapes her, in his car?? God! How could I not know?"

"Shh," I hugged him tight against me, feeling his tears wet my shoulders, pushing his hair back behind his ears. "She doesn't blame you either, Soda," I whispered in his ear. "She loves you. She loves you Soda, and so do I."

"I don't deserve it," he sobbed. "I failed everyone… all of you. Steve, first, and that made him hurt you and Sandy…"

"No," I said, holding him, rubbing his back. "No. You didn't do anything wrong, Soda. Nobody blames you, for anything."

"I blame me," he said, "and I don't know how to fix it, for any of you." He looked at me and the sadness in his eyes made my own fill up.

"He asked if he could come back to work, at the DX… He was crying, he was so afraid to ask."

I didn't respond.

"I said okay… that's all he has, I mean, I can't take his whole life away. Is that… was that okay?"

"I don't work at the DX, Soda. You do. It's up to you."

"I…" he shook his head and just cried. I did too, with him.

"What? What, Soda?"

"I hate myself for it… for what he did to you and Sandy, but a part of me…"

"Shh," I said, again. "It's okay. It's okay."

"Part of me misses him. He was my best friend." He sobbed against me. "I'm sorry," he sniffed. "I'm so sorry."

I wiped my eyes and pulled myself together.

"No." I pushed him away from my shoulder where he had been crying and looked him in the eye.

"NO, Soda. You don't apologize. Stop. Now. What happens with you and Steve has nothing to do with me. I…" I bit my lip, trying to decide if I was sure about what I wanted to say.

"What? What, baby?"

"I… don't hate him, either. I thought I did, and he still scares me, but… I don't actually hate him so much as I thought."

We were both quiet for a while, and, finally, I broke the silence.

"Soda?" I asked. He had leaned back up against me.

"Hmmm?"

"Where… I mean, where's he gonna live? With his dad in jail... where will he go?"

"They have a place… like, a house, that they send people to… who've been hurt… He'll stay there, 'til he turns eighteen in a few months. Then he can go back to his house."

"Oh," I said.

"He won't come here, baby. I told him he can't. I don't want him anywhere near you and Sandy. He agreed, he... understood."

"Okay," I whispered. Now that I knew he was off the drugs, and how he had been hurt so badly himself, I was less scared of him. Still scared, a bit, but not as much.

We just sat there, for the longest time, holding each other and trying to heal. Eventually, it was Soda who pulled away, looked me in the eyes, pushed my hair out of my face, and said:

"So, we gonna plant all those new plants you brought home?"

I looked at him and smiled.

"Yeah, I guess." We both stood up and he took my hand as we walked out to the gate to get the new plants.

And, with the end of that discussion, I actually felt a page being turned, in the story of my life.

Closure is a good thing.

...........................

A/N: This chapter was brutal to write. Do you all still need Steve/Soda or was this recap enough? Let me know, I'll write it if you still want it.