A/N: After stupidly going swimming at a friend's place and then spending the night watching Bridget Jones and 17 Again (I do not like Zac Efron!! It was her choice! Besides, his name is now Chandler.) I've ended up a lot sicker than I was and am now very bored. If anyone I read would like to update it would be very much appreciated.

Thanks so much to the wonderful happy-filled reviews! I opened my email inbox that night and it was like, 14 unread messages and a lot of them were from FFN, so I was thrilled. Also thanks to everyone who added me/this to their subscription/ fav lists! If you'd like to review too I certainly wouldn't object

X X X X

Pony lay awake for a long time that night. Darry had left long ago to pick up some extra hours at his second job and he hadn't returned since, so it was just him and Sodapop in the Mathews' lounge that night. Maybe it was lucky that Pony had this opportunity to talk things over with Soda without interference from Darry, but right now all Pony wanted to do was crawl deep into a hole in which he could ignore all his hurt feelings and hope they go away. After all, Soda would have fallen asleep long ago.

He was proven wrong as Soda shifted against the back of the couch he was propped up against. "Can't sleep, Ponyboy?" he asked quietly.

Though his voice was quiet, it sounded impossibly loud in the silent dark of the night. "How did you know?" Pony answered with a question of his own.

In the dim glow from the moon, stars and streetlights streaming in from the window, he could make out his brother's million dollar smile. "Because I know you so well," Soda answered. "What's up?"

Pony couldn't hold his gaze. He wanted Soda mad again. He wanted him ranting and raving and throwing things and doing everything he hadn't done since he was a toddler – if he had done them at all. Because this calm normalcy almost led Pony to believe that Sodapop didn't remember what he had said. "You'd get mad," he muttered, looking up at the ceiling.

He didn't look at him, but he could tell Soda was frowning. "You know I wouldn't, Pone. You can tell me anything. You know that."

Pony sat up, trying to quash his anger and frustration deeper inside him. "You got angry at me today!" he cried, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes more as an excuse not to look at Sodapop than because he really needed to. "I was just trying to look out for you like you always look out for me, and you just ran off and said –" Somehow, if he didn't say it, it wouldn't be real. It was just a figment of his imagination until he admitted it out loud, and he really didn't want it to become something real.

Soda's smile slipped from his face, and Ponyboy knew that even though he had said nothing, he had still managed to get through to his brother. "Oh," was all the middle Curtis said for a few moments. "I remember now. I was sick and it made me say things I didn't mean. I'm really sorry, Pony."

Now Pony finally got the guts enough to turn and stare down Soda. He wanted the whole truth about the comment. He believed Soda when he said he'd only said it because he was sick and frustrated, but it had to have come from somewhere. "Come on, Soda. I know you said it for a reason. How come you were angry at Mom? I wouldn't think you'd still think about her like that."

Like he'd expected him to, Soda broke his gaze and stared instead down at the bedsheets. "I don't think about her like that," he mumbled.

"Evidently you do," Pony said firmly. If he didn't think about her that way, Soda would have just asked Pony what the hell he was talking about.

"Okay, what the hell does evidently mean?" Soda snapped unexpectedly.

They sat there for a moment, just staring at each other, and Pony sighed. "It means obviously. I ain't saying you didn't like Mom, Soda, or even that I liked her more. I want to know what I did that was like what she did that you didn't like… if that makes any sense at all. There were things you didn't like about her and things I didn't like about her; the way she made each of us clean the bathroom once a week, for instance." Wow. If he concentrated hard enough, Pony could imagine the same words coming out of Soda's mouth.

Soda calmed somewhat. "I'm sorry, Pony. I did love her. I still do. She really was a lot like you…"

"How's that?"

"Damn overbearing." Soda laughed. "I've just been getting real frustrated recently and I took it out on you. Remember when I decided to play Ponyboy and go running onto that track field?" It was such a horrible memory, but that didn't stop Soda smiling with amusement at how stupid he was.

"How could I forget?" Pony muttered. "I suppose I should thank you. I actually got time off school without being sick." Soda raised his eyebrows. "They didn't let me off really. I just didn't go, and they didn't notice. Darry did, but he didn't care; he was cutting too."

"Glad to be of service," Soda laughed. "Anyway, you remember how Mom wouldn't let me go back to school for ages? She wouldn't let me out of her sight. I know she loved me. She loved me enough to force me to sit on the couch forever… if it'd been Johnny or Steve they would've been back at school the second they got released. My mom wanted me around." He looked out the window, the glow of the moon making him appear eerily ethereal. "But she wasn't ever proud of me."

Pony's head shot around so fast he was surprised he didn't crick his neck. "Sure she was. She said she was all the time."

"No, she didn't, Pony," said Soda. He didn't sound bitter, only honest. "She might have said it a couple of times when she was talking about all of us, like she said she was proud of all three of us when she was talking to friends and stuff, but she never said it to me in particular. You and Darry'd come home with your A's in every subject and your football captaincy stories, and she'd give you so much attention and… and pride. There's something real special when someone you love succeeds. I feel it every time you do well in anything. She never got the opportunity to feel that for me because I couldn't do the stuff you could."

"So that's why you're mad at me?" Pony questioned. "Because I'm overbearing like Mom?"

"No, that's why I was angry at you. It was stupid, I know it. I ain't perfect, Ponyboy, I know it. I'm sorry."

Pony smiled, leaning over to give Soda a hug. "I already forgave you. I just wanted to know…"

"I know, Ponyboy."

X X X X

Soda stretched as he finished stacking the shipment of books his boss had ordered. They were mostly just extra copies of novels that had sold out recently – Ponyboy said most of the titles were some of his favourites, though Soda had no idea what any of them were about.

It was Wednesday, and Steve's hearing was drawing nearer. Soda had visited him earlier, and after a heartfelt greeting mainly consisting of, "Thank God you're not Evie", Steve had told him that the lawyer who was taking his case pro bono was expecting him to get off lightly as long as he stuck to the truth. He was young and had been driven to attack because of what those boys had done to his friend. Apparently that looked good to a judge.

"It's only the state getting stuck into me," Steve had said, poking at a dent in the table. "If that Soc scum tried suing me then they know we'd come right back and sue them for assaulting you."

"You sure about that, Steve?" Soda had asked. "They know we can't afford any court cases."

"Yeah, that's exactly why they're scared. They'd win the case against me no question, but they know the only way I could afford compensation or any other fees they throw at me is to sue them back and try to get some money. They're scared you'll help me out."

Law talk was damn confusing anyway, Soda thought as he wandered back behind the counter. Best thing to do was not to think about it.

He looked up as the bell atop the shop door sounded, but it wasn't any sort of customer. The man who entered was the man Soda needed to see, his very elderly boss.

"Afternoon, Mr Brumley," he greeted politely.

Mr Brumley stopped and gave Soda a deeply suspicious glare. There were many times Soda wondered whether his boss was just a little senile, and this was certainly one of them. Those sharp blue eyes were just creepy. "What d'you want, boy?" he asked in a voice that sounded like sandpaper. The old man wasn't in the best of health and Soda would not be the least surprised if he dropped dead tomorrow. It came out in his voice.

"Er, nothing," Soda mumbled, feeling a bit nervous under the scrutiny. The old man reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, and a hint of garlic could definitely be detected. If that man had a wife she'd have killed him long ago; Soda couldn't bear the thought of living with someone so… pungent. "Just a little thing, actually. I need the day off on Friday."

The scrutinizing glare intensified. "I gave you last Friday off. You also had Monday off. Then there were those other few days a couple of weeks ago…"

Soda grimaced. "I'm sorry, I just really need the day off," he insisted. Technically, he didn't need the day off like he had needed those others, but he wouldn't sit by and let his best friend go to his sentencing alone.

Mr Brumley was not impressed. He was almost standoffish, almost like a Soc. If there was one thing this crazy old man wasn't, it was standoffish. "You're not making your situation any better, son!" he said loudly.

Now Sodapop winced. "What situation is that?" he questioned stiffly.

"I'm no Westie," Mr Brumley began. "I don't have that much money. I'm getting old, and I need to think about my future."

Your future, Soda thought, almost laughing at the statement. He sounded like Darry did when he spoke about Pony's future college days.

"I came here to say I can't keep finding extra workers every time you decide it's a nice day to throw a coughing fit. I can't afford the money or the time any longer."

Soda felt his stomach drop. If he was saying what he thought he was saying, then Soda could safely assume that Darry was going to kill him. "I don't call in sick because it's a nice day!" he cried. "You should know that! We met in the goddamn hospital!"

"Don't you use language like that, boy!" Mr Brumley snapped. He pulled an envelope from his coat and put it down on the table. "You're my best driver but I sure could use a better worker. There's your check. I'm letting you go, Curtis."

A/N: Oh no! Soda got fired! Though let's be realistic; he had it coming… oh dear, the fans are going to kill me now.

Please please please review! Any theories? Correct ones receive… Oh I know! My detention for skipping the school swimming carnival! Yes, I got detention for being sick on carnival day. I hate school!