The river rushed, a storm making it wave in a rising tide of adrenaline.


Darry heard a series of slams and clatters, as he went into the house, Steve following right behind him. He moved toward the kitchen, the apparent source of all the noise. "Sodapop, what's going on?"

Soda picked up the pot he'd previously hurled at the cabinet, only to slam it against the counter.

Steve's eyes widened, as he looked at the mess in the kitchen and watched his best friend. "Soda, stop it, man."

Darry saw Soda about to go for the freshly washed cups and silverware that he'd already scattered along the counter and the floor, but he stepped forward and grabbed him by the waist first. "Stop, Sodapop! Now! What's gotten into you, little buddy?"

Soda made a futile attempt at fighting Darry's hold. "I can't take it anymore, Darry! I can't!"

Steve tried to get his feet to move, but both the sight of Soda struggling and his words kept him frozen.

Darry tightened his hold on his middle brother, though it took little effort to pull him down to the tile floor.

Soda tried to get out of Darry's grip. "Let me go! Please! I don't want to do this! It hurts!"

Steve willed himself forward and dropped down beside the brothers. "Soda, you have to relax, buddy."

Darry didn't release Soda, as he spoke right into his ear, trying to keep his voice soothing, despite his own rising panic. "Calm down, Pepsi Cola. Okay? I'm not letting go until you relax. Just hold still and breathe."


The fight started to drain out of the river, the surging waves beginning to give way to gentle ripples.


Soda's face crumbled, a sob overcoming him. "Help me. Please help me." He turned and lay his head on Darry's chest. "Please help. I'm sorry."

Darry's hold on Soda transformed from one of restraint into one of comfort. "I'm here, little buddy. It's okay." Please, he thought. Tell me how to help you.

Steve listened to the sobs coming from his best friend, hearing them melt into inconsolable wails. He wrapped one arm around Darry and the other around Soda, hugging both brothers. "Shh. It's going to be all right, buddy." Whatever's going on inside you, he thought. You're going to get through it. You have to.


"What the hell did I miss?"

Steve heard Pony's question, as he was beginning to clean up the kitchen, undoing the visible traces of whatever had driven Soda to act out in a destructive way. "You don't want to know, Kid."

Pony watched Steve pick up a pot and several pieces of silverware. "Yeah? Well, maybe I do want to know. What makes you think you know me anyway? You're Soda's best friend, not mine."

Steve tossed the items he held into the sink, before he sighed and faced Pony. "You gotta be fuckin' kidding me right now, Ponyboy. As much as we've been talking, you're going to say that shit to me?"

Pony stared at Steve's face, the closer look letting him see not only how red his eyes were already, but also the fresh tears brimming in them. "What's going on, Steve?"

Steve picked up more of the remaining silverware and a few of the cups, trying to ignore Pony's curious gaze.

"Did something else happen with Sodapop?"

"Oh? I don't know you, but you think you know me, huh?"

"You just told me a couple days ago that you cry when Soda does."

"He did this, Kid. This mess I'm cleaning up."

"What?"

"Me and Darry were out back and heard all this noise. We came in to see Soda throwing stuff all over."

"But why? He's never done anything like that before."

"I don't know. But Darry grabbed him and made him stop. Once he quit fighting, he cried worse than anything I've ever seen."

"I didn't tell him yet, but I'm so sorry for what I said to him earlier. I shouldn't have done that."

Steve put his arm around Pony's shoulders, giving him a squeeze. "Soda will understand, Kid."

"I just got frustrated. But I was being a jerk."

"I've been a jerk lots of times. Especially to Soda. So I get it."

"I didn't make anything worse, did I?"

"No, Ponyboy. You didn't. Everything that's going on with Soda, it's been there. But today..." Steve kept his arm around Pony, the day's memories replaying in his head, as he held back tears. "I've never seen him like he was this afternoon, and I damn sure have never seen him like he just was tonight."


"I'm sorry, Darry. I just- I just lost it. I got angry."

Darry sat on his bed beside Soda, holding his hand, as he listened. "Angry at what, Sodapop? You have to give me more than that. This isn't like you at all."

Soda resisted the urge to bury his face in Darry's shoulder, as he was still recovering from the sobs that had seized him on the kitchen floor. "I don't know."

Darry reached for Soda's other hand, squeezing both tight in his own grip. "No. You're going to talk to me. Little buddy, you were in there saying you can't take it anymore, that it hurts. Then, you were crying and pleading for help. I don't know what to do, or exactly what you need right now, but I'm going to figure it out."

"I guess I just got angry at everything. I'm doing what I'm supposed to. But I'm not better. I don't ever feel like me anymore. I mean, I try. I really do. But I just don't."

"That's not your fault, Sodapop. Not at all."

"But I don't feel good about myself, Dar. And it's like something in me is always in pain that never stops."

"I need to ask you something, little buddy. Did you ever feel anything like this before the shooting?"

"I guess maybe when Mom and Dad died. And when Pony was missing."

"I can definitely understand that."

"Then, when Johnny and Dal died and Pony was sick. And then when Steve overdosed or maybe even just before that, you know, when he was first telling me everything."

"But you did start to feel better all those times, right? It wasn't like this?"

"No, it wasn't. All the grief, it hurt like hell, but now, it feels, I don't know. It's deeper, and no matter what I do, I don't feel better. I thought if I did talk about what happened, that could help. It should help."

Darry saw that Soda was starting to shake and scooted closer, still holding both of his hands. "Keep talking to me, little buddy. What are you scared of right now?"

"I'm scared that none of this is ever going to go away."

"None of what?"

"The anxiety, the memories in my head, this aching feeling." Soda closed his eyes, squeezing Darry's hands, as he tried to focus on the physical contact. "I feel like I'm never going to be me again."


"Are you okay now, Soda?"

Soda avoided Steve's gaze, his eyes dropping to the porch steps, where his feet rested. "No. I'm not. I'm not okay."

Steve settled beside Soda, quiet for several moments, before he chose to say more. "What can I do, buddy? Anything you tell me, I'll do it."

"You've been doing everything. There's nothing else."

"You said no when I asked you earlier, but do you think you did get too overwhelmed talking like we did last night?"

"Maybe. I might have."

"Cause I've never seen you like you were today."

"I'm sorry, Stevie. For all of it. But especially for acting like I did tonight."

"It's okay. Stuff just happens sometimes."

"I've never lost it and thrown things before. But it was like I got mad and had to do something."

"Did anything happen just before to make you mad?"

"No. I'm just mad cause I can't get my head straight, and it feels like I never will."

"I think being anxious can make you get pissed off too, man. It's frustrating."

"I was real anxious when I called the DX today. I really felt like I needed to hear somebody else's voice."

"It seems like you have a harder time being alone now. Maybe that had something to do with it."

"It's crazy cause I know no one is about to hurt me. Nothing is happening. But I still feel like it is."

"Yeah. I know, buddy. And I could hear it in what you said to me on the phone. I could see it in you when I got here too."

"It's one thing to have the flashbacks, but it was worse that time. Even when I didn't feel so much like it was happening again, I still couldn't calm down."

"You seemed like you started to once you weren't by yourself anymore."

Soda blinked, feeling more tears gather in his eyes. "I didn't cry before, and now, it's all I do."

"I know the feeling, buddy. But I'd rather see you cry all the time than keep it inside. You wouldn't feel like crying if you didn't need to."

"How do you know I'm going to get through all of this? What if I can't?"

"Cause I know you, and I know how strong you are."

"I'm not feeling strong at all."

"That's why we're all here for you. So you don't have to do anything alone. You know what else I see?"

"What?"

"You're being honest, buddy." Steve hugged Soda once again, squeezing him tight, as he spoke. "And you know that takes a hell of a lot of strength."


Soda held tight to the pillow in his arms, his eyes closing beneath the sea of stars that cascaded along the night sky.


"Hey, Son. I was wondering when you'd be back. Is Sodapop doing better now?"

Steve closed Nicholas' bedroom door, leaning on it, as he answered his dad's question. "He's not himself, but he's calmer for right now at least."

Nicholas looked at Steve, seeing how his eyes stared straight ahead, unblinking, as his body remained still, not moving away from the door. "Son? What about you?"

"That's why I came to talk to you. Cause I know I said I would."

"Said you would? What about?"

Steve sank down to the carpet, finally shifting his gaze to look right at his dad. "I promised I'd tell you if I started feeling like hurting myself."


"Hey, Soda?"

Soda heard Pony's voice from his place on the porch swing and opened his eyes in response. "Yeah, Pone?"

Pony saw both the pillow Soda held and a blanket that lay over his lap. "Are you trying to sleep out here or something?"

"Maybe. It's just comfortable. It might sound weird, but my room makes me feel kind of trapped."

Pony sat down beside his middle brother. "No. It doesn't sound weird at all."

Soda rested his chin on the pillow, holding it tighter, as he soaked in the comfort it provided. "It's kind of funny cause I don't like the dark, but being out here feels okay."


"What do you need, Son? What can I do?"

Steve heard Nicholas soft-toned questions that sought direction, realizing he wasn't certain of the answers himself. "I'm not sure. I just know I need you, Dad."


"I'm sorry, Soda. For yelling at you, for saying what I did."

Soda put his arm around Pony, accepting his apology. "It's okay, Pone. I ain't mad at you. Besides, you were kind of right. I know I haven't told you a lot, and I really wasn't doing great earlier."

"Which is why it wasn't the time to say stuff like that to you. I hope you can forgive me for that cause I really am sorry."

"Don't even worry about it, little brother." Soda saw Darry watching them through the window, as he felt Pony's head rest on his shoulder. "Of course I forgive you."


Steve tossed his hand of cards down on the coffee table, before covering his face. "I can't focus, Dad."

Nicholas laid down his own hand, then scooted closer to Steve. "Okay. We don't have to play. I just know it's helped before."

"It was a really hard day. I think that's why. It's not because I'm getting bad again or anything."

"I'm sure you're right, Son."

"Seeing Soda like he's been, it's really painful. But I'm not saying it's his fault or anything. It's not. And I wouldn't even want to tell him about this cause he's been so damn bad about blaming himself for stuff lately."

"No. Of course it's not his fault. I know that's not what you're saying."

"He got mad tonight, Dad. And that was worse than seeing him scared. Cause I didn't know what to do for him at all. When he called earlier today, I knew how to help him. But this was different."

"He got mad? What happened?"

"I was talking to Darry, and we heard a bunch of noise. We went inside to see what it was, and Soda was throwing stuff around the kitchen."

"That doesn't sound like him at all."

"I know. Cause it's not. He told me he just lost it. I understand how he could cause it's all overwhelming, and stuff keeps happening. He's scared he's not going to get better. But it was so weird seeing Soda like that."

"I can imagine."

"It sounds funny to say, but I was so relieved when he started crying." Steve leaned against Nicholas, his arms going around him. "Cause, at least then, I knew what I could do."


Soda splashed cold water on his face, the drops breathing coolness into his skin. He put his hands over his mouth, his hot breath a reminder that he was still alive.


"I don't want to ask this, Son. But I feel like I have to because I need to know what's going on."

Steve could feel Nicholas hold him a little tighter, as he listened to his dad voice the need to talk more about what he'd just confided in him tonight. "Okay. Ask me whatever you need to."

Nicholas squeezed Steve one more time, before he pulled away, keeping one arm around him. "You said you've felt like hurting yourself tonight. What exactly does that mean?"

"Um, it just means I have thoughts, and I'm kinda like I was before. It's this impulse, like Laura has called it."

"Okay. I guess what I'm really trying to ask is are you feeling like you would hurt yourself if you" Nicholas pushed back the distress that was making tears form in his eyes. "had any kind of chance."

"No. It's not like that, Dad. It's not that bad. I'm not thinking of what I could do or anything, I swear."

Nicholas forced himself to let out a breath. "All right."

"That's why I'm talking to you now. I don't want to try to deal with it alone and get where I could hurt myself again. When I first felt this way, I never imagined I could get to that point. It didn't even seem possible. But now, I know it is."


Soda's forehead pressed against the window, the glass sending a chill into his skin. Goosebumps sprang up on his body, as he lifted his hands to the window, palms and fingers absorbing the coldness that characterized the night. He breathed in the air of disquietude, as his consciousness kneeled at the altar of fear and prayed for release that could only be found in the gift of divine serenity.


"Hey, Soda, you coming, man?"

Soda shook his head in response to Steve's question, his heart beating within the silence, as he hoped his friend would accept the answer.

Steve looked at Soda stretched out on his bed, the spiritless expression on his friend's face making him have the shove the worry away. He moved from the doorway to Soda's dresser.

Soda heard the sound of drawers opening and closing and rose just in time for a pair of jeans and a shirt to land in front of him. "Steve, I-"

"I'm not letting you sit here like this, buddy. You ought to know that."

"But I don't feel like going. Not to church or anywhere else."

Steve sat at the foot of Soda's bed, determination setting in, as he spoke. "I know, man. But do you know what'll happen if you sit here alone like this too much?"

"Nothing?"

"No. You'll get too stuck inside your own head, and that's the last thing you need right now. You've spent a lot of time by yourself lately, and it doesn't seem to be a good thing for you."

"I guess that's true."

"I'm not trying to tell you what to do, buddy. I'm really not."

Soda looked down at the clothes on the bed, then back up at Steve, a smile trying to form on his lips. "Yeah, actually, you kind of are."

"Okay. So I am. But you know I'm right."

"Maybe."

"Come on, man. My dad's waiting. So get dressed and come with us. It'll be good for you."


"We didn't even get there yet, and my dad already has that look on his face."

Nicholas drove in the direction of the church, feigning ignorance at the meaning of Steve's comment. "What look?"

Soda laid his head against the backseat, feeling the wind blowing in the car's rolled down window.

Steve sat in the passenger seat, his gaze shifting from Soda to Nicholas. "That dopey look you get when you think about Audrey."

Nicholas turned the steering wheel, making a left. "She doesn't think I look dopey."

Steve smiled, not even having to think about his next reply. "That's cause she's in love with you."

Soda sighed, the banter in the front seat doing nothing to draw him out of the sadness that was beginning to lay claim to his soul.


Steve elbowed Soda, then tapped his knee with the hymnal he'd just closed. "What do you think? Should I drop it and draw attention to myself?"

Soda grinned a little at the memory behind the joking question. "It's carpet, man. No one will hear anything."

Steve lightly tapped Soda's head with the hymnal. "You'll hear it if I knock you over the head."

Samuel's voice came from the front of the church. "Is something going on over there, Steve?"

Steve turned to look at Samuel, who was smiling at him from the pulpit. "Nah. Just messing with Sodapop. You know how it is, preacher guy."

Samuel opened the Bible in front of him, finding today's sermon notes tucked between the pages. "Yeah. I do know."

Steve put the hymnal in its holder, noticing that all traces of the grin he'd seen on Soda's face had already vanished.


Steve slung his arm over Nicholas' shoulders. "So, Audrey, I hear you love my dad. He's an okay guy, huh?"

Nicholas gave Steve a light shove. "Don't mind him. Teasing me has become his favorite past time."

Audrey kissed Nicholas' cheek. "Yes. He certainly is an okay guy."

Steve saw the blush on Nicholas' face, turning to talk to his best friend. "Hey, Soda, look-" He glanced around the rest of the sanctuary, finding Soda was nowhere in sight.

Nicholas followed Steve's gaze. "What is it, Son?"

Steve eyed the door of the church, heading toward it. "I'll be back, Dad. Just wondering where Soda went." He stepped outside and looked around the parking lot, walking a little farther, before he spotted Soda in the grass at the rear of the building. "Hey, man, I was saying something to you when I realized you were gone."

Soda saw Steve coming toward him, but didn't speak until his best friend was sitting right beside him. "I told you I didn't feel like coming, Stevie."

"I know, buddy. Hey, you should've seen my dad just now. Audrey kissed him, and he got all red in the face. Man, I never knew he could blush like that before he met her."

"Yeah."

"I was about to tell you to look at him when I saw you weren't behind me anymore." Steve saw how glassy Soda's eyes were, his expression lacking any sort of amusement. "You look like you're about to bawl again, and I've never seen you cry this often, man." Steve listened for a response, only to feel Soda's head drop onto his shoulder. "What's happening, Sodapop? You're scaring me, buddy."

"Did you ever feel like you just kept hurting more and more, no matter what? And like it could never stop?"

"I did. I did feel that way. You know that."

"Have you ever felt like what was supposed to help didn't?"

"Sure. I felt like that a lot."

"Did something that should help ever make you hurt worse?"

"Yeah. I think so. It hurts to face stuff that's painful. So anything that will help might hurt at first."

"Oh."

"What are you trying to tell me, man? You already know all this."

"What made you feel most like you wanted to hurt yourself?"

Steve didn't answer right away, the path the questions were creating becoming visible. He slipped an arm around Soda, rubbing his back, as he looked to see quiet tears were falling out of his eyes. "Soda, buddy, are you trying to tell me you feel like you want to hurt yourself?"

"Yeah. I didn't before. I swear I wasn't lying about that."

"I know. I know you weren't lying."

"What do I do, Stevie?"

"What you're doing right now. What you've been doing. Keep talking to me and to Darry."

"What if it gets worse, and I start to feel like you did?"

"This doesn't mean you will, man. It doesn't mean that at all."

Soda kept his head on Steve's shoulder, feeling the hand on his back moving in circles. "You were right. I didn't need to be by myself today. But I still don't feel like being around a lot of people."

"Yeah. I got that."

"It's scary to feel this way."

"It sure is." Stay calm, Steve told himself. Stay calm, and say what you need to say. "But you'll be okay. You'll get through this too." Those feelings don't last forever, he thought. They pass. They do go away. "And I'm here for you. I'm not going anywhere."


Nicholas saw Steve step back inside the church. "Hey, Son. Did you find Sodapop?"

Steve stood by the door to the sanctuary, staring outside until it closed all the way. "Yeah. He's just outside. He, uh, doesn't feel much like being around anybody."

Samuel joined the conversation, as he picked his Bible up off the pew, where he'd set it earlier. "That doesn't sound like him."

Steve moved from the door to a back row pew, perching on its wooden arm. "Cause it's not like him."

Samuel went to stand beside Steve, a hand on his shoulder. "Is he all right?"

Steve saw Nicholas move closer to him too, as he shook his head. "I don't know. I really don't think so." He looked at Samuel. "Would you try talking to him? I think he might need it."


Soda remained in the grass at the back of the church building, watching as the others who'd still been inside filed into the parking lot. He saw Steve and Nicholas going toward the car and got to his feet, heading in the same direction.

Steve opened his dad's passenger side door, as Soda was approaching. "Hey. Ready to get out of here, man?"

Soda nodded and was about to slide into the backseat when Samuel came up to them. "Oh. Hey. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to blow anyone off or anything like that. I just-"

Samuel shook his head, giving Soda a smile. "No. Of course not. How are things going, Sodapop?"

Soda looked down, away from Samuel's eyes, all too aware of the effect the preacher had had on him in previous conversations. "I, um, they're okay, I guess. I have to have some tests this week cause my nerves might have damage from- from the bullet. But I go back to work tomorrow."

Samuel waved to Grace and Pastor David, as their car rolled through the parking lot. "I know I told you I'm here if you need anything, but I should also tell you I'm here if you ever want to talk." Samuel opened the Bible that he'd held under his arm and ripped a slip a paper from a page of sermon notes, also taking out the pen that had been tucked inside.

Soda's gaze moved back up to look at Samuel, watching him scribble down the digits of his phone number. "Uh, okay."

Samuel handed Soda the slip of paper. "Call me, Sodapop. It doesn't matter when. For you, I can always make time."


"Did he tell you Vivian's having a baby?"

Steve's eyebrows raised, hearing Nicholas' question. "Oh yeah?"

Nicholas pulled his car into the driveway, shifting it into park. "Yeah. She's just a couple of months along. But she didn't come today because she wasn't feeling very well."

Steve pushed open the passenger side door, sliding out of the front seat. "That's great. I mean, that they're having a baby. Not that Vivian feels sick."

Soda climbed out of the backseat, silent as he made his way toward the Randles' front porch.

Nicholas closed the driver's side door, Bible in hand. "I knew what you meant, Son. I think they're both pretty happy about it too."

Steve picked his own Bible up out of the passenger seat, before closing the door. "Well, yeah, it's a baby, and they're married and stuff, so they would be."

Nicholas started toward the house. "Of course. But it makes things different when they lost a child."

Steve followed behind his dad, seeing Soda on the porch swing. "Oh. I wasn't even thinking about that. I should have though."

Nicholas paused next to the front door, looking at Soda. "You want some lunch, Sodapop? I was going to make sandwiches."

Steve handed Nicholas his Bible, before sitting down beside Soda. "Yeah. And then you get to see Audrey again. So you can blush some more."

Nicholas sighed, as he opened the door, but he couldn't help smiling. "Uh huh. Keep on teasing, Son. So do you want to eat, Sodapop?"

Steve looked over at his best friend, then nudged him with his elbow. "Hey, Soda, you in there or what?"

Soda blinked, then looked from Steve to Nicholas. "Huh? Oh. Yeah, sure. I could eat."

Nicholas nodded, his gaze lingering on Soda, as he went inside.

Steve turned to Soda, his tone no longer one of teasing. "You kept your promise, buddy."

Soda lifted his feet onto the swing, resting his head on his knees. "What promise?"

"About telling somebody if you ever felt like hurting yourself."

"Oh."

"I'm proud of you."

"Why?"

"Cause I know it's hard to admit."

"I barely even did. You just figured out why I'd be asking those questions."

"But still. You told me. It doesn't matter how you did it. So I'm proud of you."

"I know Darry is going to make me talk to a counselor, but I don't want to, Stevie. I don't."

"I'm sure Darry realizes something like that won't help you if it's not your choice, man."

"I know I should talk to him too, but I don't want to scare him anymore. I didn't want to scare you either. I'm sorry if I already did. I know I've done that a lot."

"It's okay, man. My dad always says it scares him more not to know what's going on. I think that's true for me too. Can I ask you something?"

"I knew you'd want to. I think I even know what."

"Has this just been a feeling or-" Steve met Soda's eyes, gripping his shoulder at the same time. "Or is there something you've thought about doing?"

Soda kept the eye contact, his gaze bathed in transparency. "Just a feeling. A bad one. But I'm not thinking of anything like that. Honest."

"Okay. I know I've asked you this already, and I should even know the answers anyway. But what can I do? What can I say?"

"Like I told you, you're doing everything, Stevie. I mean it. You really couldn't be a better friend if you tried."


"Hey, Pone, I think you need to go back and check your work on a couple of these."

Pony took the page of algebra problems from Darry, looking at the ones his big brother had circled. "Hey, Dar, do you know what made Soda so mad last night?"

Darry picked up one of the envelopes on the kitchen table and opened it, taking out the bill that was inside. "He told me, but I'm not sure he really understands it himself. I didn't know you knew about that."

"I came home not long after, and Steve was cleaning up the kitchen. I think he didn't really want to tell me, but I sort of wouldn't let it go til he did."

"Soda's hurting, Pone, and it's really getting to him."

"But he never gets mad like that."

"I know. But he's also never been through anything like the last couple weeks. People get angry when they're scared. I probably understand that better than anyone."


Soda held the football in his hands, fingers brushing over the brown leather and the white laces. "Hey, Steve, did you tell Samuel something about me that made him say what he did?"

Steve stood in the grass across the yard from Soda, the sun glaring in his face. "Um, when I went back inside, he and my dad were asking about you. Samuel asked if you were all right. I told him I didn't really think so. I swear I didn't say anything else. But I, uh, sort of asked him if he'd try talking to you."

"Relax, Stevie. It ain't a big deal. I just wondered."

Steve caught the football when Soda tossed it to him. "I mean, he also kinda already knew I've been wanting to help you with stuff cause I told him about it. I talked more about me than you that day though."

"Oh. He'd already told me once he's here if I need anything. I didn't know what to say then cause I wasn't ready to talk yet."

Steve raised the football, then released it into the air. "You don't have to talk to him if you don't want to, buddy. He just wants you to know he's there, and I know you've talked to him before."

Soda caught the football, holding onto it, as his thoughts took him several months back in time. "Yeah, I have, and I said a lot of stuff I thought I would keep in my head forever."