When Soda entered back inside the house, he turned and saw Ponyboy at the window. "What are you doing?" Pony just stared out the window, watching Steve go back to his car. "What's wrong Pony?"
Pony looked down to the floor, "Why do you have to be so mean right now?"
Soda wasn't sure how to respond to that. His little brother thought of him as being mean right now. That was a serious reality check for Soda. "Pony, I..."
Pony didn't want to hear anything though. He brushed past Soda and went upstairs. He went straight to his room and shut the door.
Soda grabbed at his hair and sat himself onto the couch. He leaned back and just stared up at the ceiling. Pony's question was repeating in his head. "Why do you have to be so mean right now?" He couldn't even argue with the question. His little brother was right to use that term. Soda couldn't blame anyone for it either. He knew this wasn't something he could throw at Steve or Darry or Tim Shepard. He knew he had to take the blame himself for having Pony see him that way. It didn't fit Soda though. Mean.
Pony sat down on his bed and just looked at the floor. He was getting so tired of being in the middle of this. He never, not in a hundred years, would have pictured himself being caught up in some problem that involved Steve Randle. He just wanted Soda to get past this. He was tired of him being mad. It just made Pony feel sad or like he was doing something wrong. Was he doing something wrong that was stopping Soda from pushing forward? He didn't know how to actually help Soda get through it. All Pony could ask for right now was for Soda to get whatever he needed.
It was beginning to feel as though Pony was reaching an overwhelming point. Even though no one was blaming him or making him feel at fault, he could feel the same kind of guilt pushing him down. Pony could feel himself carrying more and more burden each day. He only imagined he was going to reach his breaking point soon.
Looking up, Pony turned his attention towards the bedroom window. He looked at the trees. The leaves were dripping their last drops from the earlier rain shower. Normally rain would help Pony believe it was washing away all of his worries. That didn't really happen this time though. It barely broke the surface.
As the sun glistened against the wet leaves, it glared against something that blinked from Pony's desk.
No one associated Soda with the word mean. But as it came out of Pony's mouth, it was radiating against Soda's brain. He couldn't brush it off. It just didn't fit. Sodapop Curtis wasn't mean. He didn't want that to become his normal. He couldn't let that become who he was. He couldn't become like Dallas Winston or Tim Shepard. As much as he was friends with them, he wasn't meant to be like them.
"But how can I fix all of this? How can I get myself out of this funk?"
Pony noticed his blade on the desk. Just like that, he couldn't move his gaze from it. That blade became the main focus on his mind, and it wasn't budging as Steve rushed into his thinking process. He tried imagining a young Steve, taking a knife and pushing it against himself. He imagined a young boy, just barely reaching his teen years, struggling to cope and depending on a weapon to get him through another day. How does someone get to that point?
Slowly, Pony got up from the bed and picked up his blade. He turned it a couple times, just looking over the little details of it. He turned towards his bedroom door. It was still closed. While keeping his eyes on the door, Pony slid his blade into his pocket. Any other time, it wouldn't be unusual for Pony or any greaser to carry a blade around in their pocket. The visions going across Pony's head though was telling him how wrong it all was. He couldn't give off any sense of what he was thinking about, as the blade being tucked away piled him with guilt. He walked towards the door, slowly opened it and looked down the hall. He didn't see or hear Soda coming up the stairs.
Quickly, Pony slid through the door and hurried down the hall. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He sat himself down on the floor, leaning against the door. He pulled his blade out of his pocket and looked at it again. Steve was all over in his head. He imagining all the different ways Steve must have tried cutting at himself. Did he do it in his bathroom? Or was it on his own bed? Was it before he'd go to sleep, or as soon as he'd get up in the morning? How many times a day did he do it?
Then Pony remembered the reasons Steve would do it. His mom. Pony's nightmare came back to him. He saw his mom in bed with the pills, he saw Steve in the corner crying, crawling onto the bed, picking up a pill...
Pony felt himself begin to panic at the nightmare. He looked at his blade with desperation for help. Steve had said it was a good distraction. It helped him from thinking about all the hardships he was going through. Maybe, just maybe it could help Pony too.
Pony flicked open his blade, and looked down at his arm. 'Just this one time,' Pony thought to himself, 'I need something to help. Just one time.'
He slid the blade against his skin. The idea wasn't even scaring him. He was feeling more anticipation than anything. He had determination.
Eyes slamming shut, he began putting more pressure against his arm, and gritted his teeth at the pinching feeling it gave. Lifting his blade, he slightly opened one eye. There was no blood. He just saw a little indent from pushing onto his arm. Lowering his blade, he pushed it against his arm again. He tried dragging it, but still didn't see any blood appearing.
Pony felt some disappointment in himself. He knew Steve was a tough guy, and in desperate times, nothing was bound to stop him. No matter how hard he had to try, Steve would get it done.
As he took a few minutes to think about his next move, Pony got an idea.
"Where are you going?" Soda asked, sitting up on the couch. He heard rushed footsteps get to the bottom of the stairs.
"I'm just going for a walk," Pony said putting his sweater on.
"Pony," Soda put a hand up to stop him, "I'm sorry about earlier, okay? I don't know why I'm being the way I am. I don't like that you think of me as being mean. That's not what I want. I'm hoping I can fix it soon."
Pony sighed, "I understand Soda, I really do. Maybe you need to try talking to Steve. Like actually talking to him, you dig?"
Soda slowly nodded, "Yeah."
"I'll be back," Pony opened the front door and left.
Steve heard a knock on his front door. He grabbed a towel on the counter to wipe his hands and headed for the front door. "Goddamn Soda, just leave me be for awhile," Steve muttered to himself. Opening the door, he was surprised to see Ponyboy standing there. "Hey Pony," he greeted, "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, yeah," Pony nodded, "I just wanted to go for a walk, and...come by."
"Well come in," Steve stepped to the side. Pony entered the house and Steve closed the door. "Did something happen at home?"
Pony shook his head, "I mean I think I may have upset Soda earlier. I asked him why he had to be so mean to you. I just don't get it."
"I can take it," Steve shrugged.
Pony looked down and noticed Steve holding a large spoon. "Are you cooking?"
Steve grinned and began walking towards the kitchen, "Yeah." Pony smiled as he followed Steve.
"Looks like I came on the right day," Pony commented looking at the pasta in boiling water on the stove.
Steve chuckled, "Yeah no kidding. So...are you doing okay? Does Soda know you came here?"
"I said I was going for a walk, so I don't know. He may suspect I came here. Have you been doing okay? Since your thing on my porch?"
Steve refused to look down at his arm from Pony's question, "Yeah. You know I'm sorry you had to see that."
"It's really fine Steve. I do have a question though," Pony said as Steve turned to the stove, "It's kind of about that."
"What is it?" As he waited for Pony to ask, he could feel his hand try and edge it's way to scratch at his arm. He forced it higher up and scratched at his shoulder instead.
"When you first tried to cut yourself...were you successful?"
Steve spun around and looked at Pony confused, "What do you mean by successful?"
"Did you actually cut through the skin? Did you bleed?"
Steve looked down at the stove and swallowed, "Yeah. I did."
"Did you bleed bad?"
"Not really, it was just a little," Steve answered, "When I first saw it, I was kind of shocked I actually did it, so I didn't go much further. It was definitely a distraction enough to see that."
"Was it easy to cut through the skin?"
Steve looked at Pony, "Why are you asking?"
Pony shrugged, "I don't know. It was just something I was thinking about. Like how much pressure it must take to get as far as when you had to go to the hospital."
Steve just looked at Pony. He sensed that wasn't all this was, but he wasn't sure how to ask Pony where he was going with it. "I mean, no. It wasn't easy. But I was so determined I guess."
"Did it make you feel good?"
Steve sighed, "At the time, yeah. But then, of course it became a bad habit and I pushed myself too far. I thought I had control of it and how I could handle it, but I was wrong."
"Hmm," Pony didn't want to draw too much suspicion, or lead Steve to telling Darry about this conversation, so he changed the topic, "So what are you making?"
"Chicken Alfredo," Steve answered, "I take it you're staying to eat."
"Hell yeah," Pony smiled.
Steve and Pony sat at the table eating dinner. They kept light-hearted conversation going. It made Pony feel relaxed. He wasn't thinking about all Steve had said to his questions. He wasn't worried about what he had almost done with his blade earlier. He felt okay and confident to let it pass and not worry about it coming to his mind again.
As they finished up their dinner, there was a couple light knocks, and the door opened.
"Steve!" a voice called out. Steve and Pony looked towards the front door and saw Soda walking in. Pony could feel himself getting nervous.
"Hey," Steve greeted, not a hint of worry in his voice. Pony wasn't sure how to feel about Steve's near monotone voice. Steve was clearly past being in his guilt trip, and was just going to wait on Soda to forgive him.
"I kind of guessed you'd be here," Soda said towards Pony.
"Hey," Pony said uneasily. He wasn't sure if Soda came here because of Pony being there, or because he wanted to talk to Steve. Maybe even both. Either way, Pony didn't want to see them argue, especially if neither of them were going to take any bullshit.
"What are you guys doing?" Soda asked.
"Just eating," Pony responded.
"Where did you guys get this?" Soda asked.
Steve twirled his fork around the few noodles he had left on his plate, "I made it."
Soda looked down at the food sitting on the table, "Since when do you cook?"
Steve shrugged, "I've messed around the kitchen from time to time." He stood up and carried his plate to the sink.
"Hmm," Soda responded keeping his eye on Steve, "Well, I came here to talk to you."
"I'll leave," Pony stood up quick.
"No," Soda and Steve both said in unison. They looked at each other, waiting for one of them to continue speaking.
"We can go outside," Soda simply said.
"Are you sure?" Pony asked.
"Yeah, just hang out here. I'll walk you home," Soda said walking towards the backdoor. Steve followed him outside. He quickly pulled out a cigarette and lit it as Soda shut the door.
"Well, what do you want to say now?" Steve asked as he blew out some smoke.
"Well, something Pony actually said," Soda began, "Made me think a lot."
"What did he say?"
"He asked me why I had to be so mean. And..." Soda kicked at some dirt as he spoke, "That really hit me something awful. That's not who I am, and I don't want Pony thinking of me that way, you dig?"
Steve nodded as he flicked some ashes towards the ground, "That really doesn't describe you at all."
"I don't want to be like that. I can admit I have been mean. Maybe Darry is right, and I haven't been fair to you." Steve just looked towards the ground as he inhaled his cigarette. "I want to...I want to feel better about everything."
Steve shrugged, "What do you want from me?"
"Can you listen to me for a minute? Can I just talk your ears off?"
"Sure."
"I know I've been just sitting in my own anger and that I haven't really tried to tell you why I've felt the way I do," Soda began, "I know I didn't think I should have to explain myself, but I owe it to our friendship to try."
"It's not like I don't understand why you're upset with me," Steve said tossing his cigarette, "I fucked up, I own that I fucked up."
"I know, but there's a lot going on in my head. I've spilled it all to Darry, but it didn't make me feel any better. So, I'll try throwing it all at you. Maybe I'll feel a little better," Soda began, "When I heard Ponyboy was hurt..." Steve heard Soda trail off. He looked up and saw the true hurt and fear that Soda had carried from that phone call. It was eating at him.
"Look man, I know it was a stab in the gut for you to hear that," Steve sighed, "You may not believe me, but it killed me to call you and Darry to tell you that. I was sick to my stomach bringing Pony to the hospital and having to tell you that your little brother had gotten hurt. I would have felt that way if Pony got hurt without me being involved. I know how much that kid means to you, and I know how much it was going to kill you to ever hear anything bad happening to him. And the fact that I was the one who was going to have to tell you, I..." Steve stopped. He turned away as he felt the tears form in his eyes. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it with shaky hands.
Soda brushed at his own eyes as he pulled himself together, "Anyway, when I heard about it, I was furious. At first, it wasn't even towards you. I was furious at the fact Pony was hurt, and what could have happened, and whoever had hurt him. I didn't know the story, but I was so pissed. And then as me and Darry drove home, I started thinking about how he could have gotten hurt when you were suppose to be taking care of him. How could Pony have ended up in the hospital, when you were here with him? That's when I started getting mad at you and putting all the blame on you. I wouldn't have thought in a million years Pony would end up in that type of situation even when me and Darry are around. Then it happened when we weren't around, and I blamed you. I was mad only at you for not taking care of Ponyboy. For letting it happen."
Steve took quick inhales trying to keep himself calm. Soda's words were jabbing at him. He didn't blame him for what he was describing. It brought him back to that night it all happened. How much he wanted to take Pony's place, and be the one who had gotten stabbed. How much he wanted to kill the bastards who did it in the first place.
"And then we get home and I felt like a lot just came rushing at me. I wanted the answers from you, but Pony was...defending you. He was trying to redirect all the anger I had boiled inside of me during the ride home. And then I end up hearing all the things you did for him while we were gone. I find out how close you guys had gotten."
Steve turned back around and looked at Soda, "Ain't that what you wanted from us all these years?"
"Yeah. I wasn't expecting this though. I had it all planned out in my head that I'd get home, I could be mad at you and let it all out, and you'd just leave. Who knows how long I'd need to get through it, but I thought I'd be able to just cut you out until I was ready. I was expecting Pony to want you gone too, and I was ready to do that for him. I knew Darry would be ready to do that too," Soda continued on, "But then Pony...didn't want that. He wanted you around. You helped him a lot, and how could I be mad at you for that? But it felt like I was being replaced."
"Replaced?" Steve asked, "What are you talking about?"
"I've always been the one he turned to for his nightmares. I've always been the one he talked to, about everything!" Soda threw his hands up in the air, "He didn't want that from me anymore. He only wanted you."
Steve shook his head, "Soda, he wasn't replacing you. No one could ever take your place for him."
Soda sighed, "It gave me more to be angry at. I was furious then, because you were the reason he got hurt, but he didn't seem to care. He still wanted you to be around. It was like our relationship wasn't what it was when I left. I didn't understand it. I didn't get how he couldn't hate you."
"I expected it," Steve admitted looking towards the door, "I thought he would hate me."
"I guess I just felt like I didn't have my chance to be mad. Pony didn't want me or Darry to be mad at you. Hell, Darry even listened to that and told me he forgave you. He said you'd need to regain his trust, but that wasn't good enough for me. I needed to be mad! I needed to be pissed off at what happened to Pony! I couldn't do that though, because I couldn't push Pony more away! It felt like I was losing him, losing how close we were. He wanted you as his big brother."
Steve shook his head, "Soda, I know me and Pony have some of the same experiences. And I know I've helped him and giving him someone to talk with. But I can't replace you."
Soda looked down, "I really hope not."
"What do you need, Soda? Do you need me to be gone for a few days? Do you need the time to be mad?"
"No, I'm too tired of being mad. I just want me and Pony to have our normal relationship back. I guess I am a little jealous of what you guys have become and he seems to have put me as the second person he needs for his hard times."
Steve tossed his second cigarette down and stomped it out. "I'm sorry Soda. I am sorry you thought I was replacing you, but I could never do that. Pony still needs you. I know he does. He needs you and Darry a lot."
Soda nodded, "I hope so."
"I know so," Steve took a deep breath. They were quiet. Soda was washed out at what he needed to say. He felt like he let it all out, but wasn't sure if he felt like he had accomplished anything. He didn't know where he and Steve stood. He didn't know where he wanted him and Steve to be at this point.
Steve was glad Soda told him everything that was on his mind. It made him believe that maybe, just maybe, they were moving one step towards fixing all of this. Steve didn't care how long it took. He'd do whatever to fix this, and to still be there for Pony.
"Do you know what I need?" Steve suddenly asked.
"What?"
"I need my best friend back."
