A glimmer of hope made itself visible, the love that had bound them together refusing to let go. The grip of despair began to lose strength, as rays of golden promise trickled into their hearts, healing becoming possible, even in the face of adversity.


"I know you are, but what am I?"

Steve rolled his eyes at TwoBit, as he tossed his cigarette away. "You're a no good Greaser, that's what you are."

Soda puffed on his own cigarette, flinching at the words.

TwoBit raised an eyebrow at Soda, though he chose not to say anything. "Aw, I ain't so bad. You, on the other hand, could use some work."

Steve scoffed, looking at Soda. "Can you believe him? He's got to be out of his greasy mind."

Soda shrugged, as he took another drag off his cigarette. "Maybe it's all the beer."

TwoBit grinned, as he picked up the bottle of beer he'd put on the porch railing and held it high in the air. "Damn right. But I think it makes my mind work even better."


"You ain't going to leave til I talk to Darry, are you?"

Steve considered Soda's question, as he looked through the window, seeing the oldest Curtis was outside mowing the lawn. "You trying to get rid of me or something, man?"

Soda shook his head, his mouth opening, then closing. "No. Uh, of course not. I just- I don't know."

"Easy, buddy. I was kidding."

"I know. Sorry."

"Don't sweat it. But no, I'm not leaving til you talk to him."

"Does he gotta know everything?"

"No. Not everything. But certain things."

"But it's not like I'm a kid anymore. He's not responsible for me now."

"Man, you can't be serious, Sodapop."

"I am serious, Steve! I'm not ready to tell him how I've been feeling!"

Steve put his hand on Soda's shoulder. "Hey, calm down, man. You don't have to yell."

"But I do! I do have to yell! Cause I can't do anything else!"

"Soda, I-"

Soda's hands covered his face, as he turned away from his best friend. "No! Just stop, Steve. Please."

Steve edged closer to Soda, a hand still on his shoulder. "It's just Darry, buddy. He loves you. I know you know that."

"I wish I wouldn't have said anything."

"I don't. I know what it's like to deal with this shit alone. I did for months, man. I wouldn't want you to do that."

Soda rubbed his face, then let his hands drop to his side. "Sorry for yelling at you. I just get where I feel like I need to fight or something."

"It's okay. I think I know what you mean."

Darry came inside, wiping his grass-covered shoes on the mat in front of the door. "Hey, you two. What's going on? I thought I heard some yelling."

Soda spoke next, stumbling over his words. "Oh. Nothing, Dar. Steve and me, we were just, uh, standing here. You know, just hanging out, like we always do."

Darry looked from Soda to Steve, then back again. "As we've talked about lately, you're not a good liar, little buddy."

Soda glanced outside, seeing the lawn mower. "So, um, are you still working out there, or are you finished?"

Darry filled a glass with water from the tap, then took a few swallows. "I'm almost done. Why?"

Soda looked at Steve, seeing him nod, a small gesture of encouragement. "I, um, just wondered. That's all. I think- I guess I want to talk to you when you come back in."

Darry finished off the glass of water. "Of course we can talk. I'll be done soon."

Steve remained quiet, while Darry made his way back outside, the door closing behind him.

Soda started to walk away, not speaking, as he went toward his bedroom.

Steve followed behind him. "It'll be all right, man. You've been talking to Darry about stuff."

"But this is different."

"I know it is. You're right about that."

Soda stepped into his bedroom and took a seat on the bed, facing the window. "He'll make me go talk to a counselor, just like I was saying. I don't want to. And I shouldn't feel like this anyway."

Steve sat down beside Soda. "What do you mean you 'shouldn't?'"

"It was one night, Steve. And I got shot in my arm, not somewhere real dangerous. It's not like he came after me and tried to kill me. I was just in the way."

"So what are you saying then? It shouldn't bother you?"

"Not this much. Especially not enough to think anything I have been. I shouldn't feel like hurting myself just cause of one night."

"It doesn't work like that, man, and you're being way too tough on yourself. You went through something traumatic, and it affects you how ever it does. To be honest, I never said it like you are, but I kinda thought the same things about myself."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I tried to downplay the abuse in my head. I guess it was sort of a way to make it seem not as bad. Like maybe if I could convince myself I should be okay, I would be. It never worked though."

"But I think what you went through is so much worse than anything else, Stevie."

"Well, the shooting doesn't sound like a picnic either, buddy. Like I told you, it's not a contest. You want to know what I used to say to myself?"

"What?"

"That it was just touching. How bad could that be? It's not like Clara actually hurt me. She didn't hit me or anything."

"Oh."

"And touching is supposed to feel good, right? It was just something that happened at night. Some kids get hurt a lot worse than that, even by their own parents."

"So it didn't help to try to think that way?"

"Hell, no, man. That made it worse. It made me feel worse. Like my feelings were wrong or something, and I wasn't supposed to have them."

"When you first had the suicidal thoughts, what was it like? I mean, before you ever told me or anybody?"

"They were kinda like what you were telling me you had. Just wishing I wasn't here. Thinking I didn't want to live anymore. That's how it was when you first worried I was thinking about trying to kill myself. Cause I was saying stuff, not even realizing what was going on in my own head. Then, I don't know, it just got worse a little at a time. Those thoughts became a feeling, an urge, and that's what made me scared to be alone."

"How did-" Soda stopped, taking a deep breath, the very feeling he was talking about beginning to rise back up in him. "How did it feel to you?"

"I remember telling you thoughts would flash into my mind, and they were really strong. I couldn't stop them from being there. My head would just feel so out of control."

"No. I mean what would feeling like that, thinking those things, do to you? Not just in your head, but to the rest of you."

"I guess it made me feel kind of weird, even sort of cold inside. This might sound funny, but I'd feel this heaviness in my body, like the thoughts of dying, of doing something to hurt myself, were actually weighing me down."

Soda looked at Steve's face, noticing how he stared straight ahead, as if fixated on a spot before him that, in this moment, represented a tunnel connecting him back to the recent past. "Hey, I'm sorry, Stevie. I shouldn't be asking you this stuff. It's too much for you to be thinking about."

"It's okay, Soda. I'm not going to lie. It's hard, and it brings stuff back up. But if I can help you and make sure you don't feel alone, I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. Things like this, they feel a lot less powerful when you can put them into words. So if this is helping you talk and understand, ask me anything you want."

"Okay. You've said the thoughts, the suicidal thoughts, they made you have an urge to hurt yourself. How did that feel?"

"The way it sounds, I guess. It's overwhelming, and I'd feel like I needed to do something. Like I had to act on whatever I was thinking. Even though, at first, I didn't think of anything specific. What I said a minute ago, about feeling cold inside and just heavy, that's how those impulses would make me feel. You know this, but they scared me too cause they felt like they wouldn't go away, like I could never get rid of them."

"I think I get what you mean. On all of it. But you explain it better than I could right now."

"That's come with time, buddy. I couldn't always describe any of this stuff."

"I think these thoughts make me anxious too. And angry."

"I can see how that would be."

"But being anxious and angry make that feeling worse too. I'll focus on it, and try to make it go away, but that doesn't really work."

"I think the harder you try, the more it kind of fights back, as strange as that might sound."

There was a knock on Soda's door, followed by Darry's voice. "Hey, little buddy, we can talk now, if you want to."

Steve met Soda's gaze. "Want me to go or stay, man?"

Soda bit his lower lip, looking down at his lap. "Stay."

Darry closed the door, also coming to sit near Soda. "What's going on? Did something else happen?"

Soda drew his feet onto the bed, crossing his legs, the words not coming easily. "I couldn't say it earlier. I don't know if I can now either."

Darry reached out to his brother in both action and word, as he laid a hand on his shoulder and gave voice to the concern he felt. "Say what, Sodapop? Is something else wrong? You've had a really tough couple of days. If there's more, I want to know. I need to know."

Soda looked away from Darry, his eyes on the window that held a view of the outdoors, a view of escape. "Please don't make me go to a counselor, Dar. Please. I'll do anything."

Darry didn't have time to respond, before Soda slid off the bed and quickly disappeared from the room.

Steve sighed, his best friend's action not taking him by surprise. "Give him just a minute, Superman."

Darry's focus remained on Soda, even as he turned to speak to Steve. "Did anything else happen today that I need to know about?"

"Nah. Nothing happened. We've had enough talks like this, haven't we?"

"We sure have. I take it whatever Soda's trying to tell me, you already know?"

"Yeah. But he didn't do any better with me. Just started asking questions that kind of led me to what he couldn't say."

"It can't help he's afraid I'll make him go to a counselor. As if I weren't already thinking about bringing that up again anyway."

"I don't blame you a bit, Superman. Especially after yesterday. I brought it up to him even before he heard it from the doctor. But if he doesn't want to, it can't help him."

"Is he about to give me another reason to try to get him to do that?"

"Yeah."

Darry got to his feet. "I better go try again. I have a feeling he's needing me to come to him this time."


Nicholas held Audrey's hand in his own, her head on his shoulder, as he felt her soft hair brushing against his face. "Do you think we could be going too fast?"

Audrey put her other hand over Nicholas', soaking in the physical affection. "Maybe we are going fast. But that doesn't have to be a bad thing."

"It's just that, before we get too serious, there are some things I need to tell you."

Audrey lifted her head up, though she still held onto Nicholas' hand. "Okay."

"But I can't yet. I need to talk to Steve first. I promise it's nothing I need to hide from you though. Just something in the past. About someone who used to be in our lives."


Soda held his eyes closed, an attempt to shut off both the world existing around him and the reality in his mind.

Darry, not wanting to startle his middle brother, was quiet, as he drew closer. He settled on the grass beside him, voice low when he did decide to speak. "Hey, Soda. I think it bears repeating that you can tell me anything."

Soda opened his eyes, meeting those of his big brother. "Did Steve say something to you?"

"No. He didn't."

"He will though, if I don't spit it out. Not that I blame him. I was going to do the same thing if he didn't tell, and I made sure he did."

"What are you talking about, little buddy?"

"I don't want to go to a counselor, Dar. I mean it."

"I won't force you to do anything you really don't want to do. I can't make you talk to anyone. But I can't promise not to bring the idea up again either."

Soda felt the urge to bolt away again, and instead, reached for Darry's hand, his hold desperate for comfort. "I've been feeling something I didn't before, something we already talked about. You told me I could tell you anything, that if I ever did feel this way-"

"Slow down, little buddy."

"But it's the only way I can get this out. I couldn't even say it to Steve. But I've been feeling like-" Soda closed his eyes once more, squeezing Darry's hand. "Like hurting myself."

Darry searched for words, for the questions he knew he should ask, but they simply didn't come.

"But it's just a feeling." Soda's eyes opened, shifting to see Darry, though he didn't turn his head. "I'm not saying I'll try to kill myself or anything, just that this feeling makes me think about it."

Darry tried to break out of his daze, to ask when this had changed, when it had gotten worse than only days before.

"It makes me think of when Steve first told me he had thoughts like this, this urge to hurt himself that made him so scared he'd do it. Even though he didn't want to."

Darry blinked, snapping out of his reverie. "Are you scared you'll hurt yourself?"

"Yeah. I guess it's kind of hard not to be. But I don't know if it's cause of me or because I know Steve got that bad. It's like I can't not worry I could too. Even though he really had a lot more going on than I do and for a lot longer too."

Darry released Soda's hand that he'd hardly even realized he was squeezing so tightly. "I know it scares me more than anything even just to know you feel like this. But I'm glad you told me, Sodapop."

"Sorry for scaring you so much. You forgive me for last night, right?"

"Forgive you? For what?"

"Getting angry. Throwing stuff. Being crazy."

"Yes. I forgive you." Darry wrapped his arms around Soda. "I know there's so much I should say, little buddy, and so much I should ask."

Soda relaxed into the embrace, resting his head on his big brother's chest, needing to be held.

Don't cry right now, Darry told himself, tears brimming in his eyes. Be strong for Soda. "But for now, I'm just going to tell you I love you."


"Hi, Steve, your dad and me were just talking and-"

Steve didn't let Audrey finish, the stress of the last several hours displaying its toll on him. "I don't feel like talking about anything right now. Just leave me alone."

Audrey spoke again, attempting to soothe whatever was happening. "Oh. I'm sorry, Steve. I didn't mean to-"

Steve turned away from Audrey, his back to her. "I can't. I just can't right now. Okay? Please don't talk to me."

Nicholas could see the hurt expression on Audrey's face, his own shock mirroring hers. "Steve, you can't talk to her like that. Ever."

Steve heard the serious tone of his dad's voice, but pushed past him anyway, going to his bedroom.

Nicholas looked at Audrey. "I'm so sorry. He's not normally like that."

Audrey nodded, certain of nothing, except that Nicholas spoke the truth. "It's all right. Something must be wrong then. He's always nice to me."

Nicholas gave Audrey's hand a squeeze, before making his way to Steve's bedroom. The door was closed, but he didn't knock, before going in. "Son, what's wrong with you? It's one thing if you snap at me. But Audrey's just being friendly. How dare you talk to her that way."

"How dare you say such a thing."

Steve felt a chill pass through his body, his dad's voice mixing with one from the past.

"Steve, are you listening to me? What were you thinking?"

"That must feel good."

Steve reached for the pillow on his bed, the softness touching his skin, the physical feeling one of the present. "I- I'm sorry, Dad. Please- Please hear me."

Nicholas watched Steve's expression, his son's eyes making the anger fall into the background. "Son? What's wrong?"

"Just do what I say."

Steve gripped the pillow, pushing his face into it, as he curled up on the bed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Please stop. Please don't."

Nicholas drew close to Steve, sitting down in front of him, recognizing his pleas as those born of the pain he'd endured. "You're okay, Steve. It's just me. I got upset, but it's still just me."

"You're so sweet, Stevie."

Steve tensed, his consciousness caught between the past and the present, Clara's voice with its anger, then her counterfeit attempts at reassurance louder than his dad's genuine consolation. "Dad, please just keep talking to me. I need it. I'm sorry."

Nicholas put his arms around Steve, in hopes that the physical contact and his words could combine to draw Steve out of the apparent flashback. "What's here, Son? Where are you? What can you see?"

Steve leaned on Nicholas, eyes searching the room. "It's my bedroom. I see the window, my dresser, those clothes on the floor."

"Okay. What can you feel and hear right now?"

Steve clutched Nicholas, laying his head on his shoulder. "I feel your shirt. I hear your voice."

"Are you getting better now?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"It's been a while, Son. Do you know what happened?"

"I think so. I know I shouldn't have been a jerk to Audrey, but what you said, it reminded me of her. Of Clara."

"What did I say?"

"You said 'how dare you,' and she said that too. She said it when she got angry at me and-" Steve pushed the memory out of his mind, knowing his dad would remember the night he'd traveled back to, as he chose not to finish the explanation.

Nicholas closed his eyes, squeezing Steve tighter, as guilt tried to swallow him up, despite the anger he felt toward his son's behavior. "I'm so sorry, Son. So sorry. You didn't deserve that. Please know I wasn't trying to hurt you. I didn't realize."

Steve pulled away from the embrace. "I know that, Dad. I know you didn't mean to. You're right too. I shouldn't have talked to Audrey like that. Did I upset her?"

"I think she was okay because she knows something must be wrong. I know that too."

"You're right."

"So tell me, Son. What's going on? What's happening to make you snap like that?"

"You know how Soda just disappeared outside after church was over?"

"Yeah."

"When I was out there with him, he told me he felt like hurting himself. He didn't even say it exactly. Just started asking me questions about how I'd felt before. It wasn't hard to see what he was trying to tell me."

"Oh, Son. I'm sorry to hear that. I knew Sodapop looked like something was wrong, and you did too when you came back in the church."

"He keeps getting worse, Dad. It hurts me so bad to see it, and I don't even know what else I can do."


"What the hell, TwoBit? Get your own slice of cake!"

TwoBit ignored Pony's protests, taking a bite of the cake he'd swiped right off the youngest Curtis' plate. "I did get my own, Kid. It's mine now, ain't it?"

Pony swung the plate at TwoBit, knocking him on the shoulder. "Hey, you thief, I thought you were changing your ways."

TwoBit spoke with his mouth full of cake. "Changing my ways? That's no fun. Who said that?"

"No one. Just a thought since you're still set to graduate this year."

"Oh, that. Yeah, I've actually been doing my work. It's almost magical how I study, and my grades come out decent."

Pony chuckled. "Magical, huh? It took you this long to figure out that's how it works?"

"Hey, not everyone is an Einstein like you, Kid."

Neither Pony nor TwoBit saw Soda in the hallway, stopped cold in his tracks by the conversation. Neither of them saw his face frozen in a distraught expression, their words steering him away.


"I'm really sorry, Audrey. For snapping at you. I shouldn't have."

Audrey gave Steve a soft smile and touched his shoulder. "It's okay, Steve. You've been nice to me all the time, so I know that's not you."

Steve decided to add more, believing Audrey deserved an explanation. "I've had a tough day. That's not an excuse. I'm not saying it is. I just want you to know there's a reason, and it's nothing to do with you."

"Thank you, and again, it's okay."

"Um, if you want to, whatever you wanted to say earlier, you can tell me now. I promise I won't be a jerk again."

"Sure. I was going to tell you your dad and me were talking, and the way he talks about you, I can tell you two have something so special."

"Yeah. We do."

"You both respect each other, and I truly admire that."

"You sound a lot like your brother, you know that?"

"Yes. I've heard it before."

"Samuel always says things about what he sees with other people. He told my dad once to treasure what we have. Just the other day, he said that me and Sodapop amaze him cause of how close we are to each other."

"As I said to your dad once, my brother's good at reading people, and so am I. He's right about what he sees. I see it too. You have more than one blessing in your life. More than one beautiful gift."


"Can we please not talk about anything else tonight, Dar? It was hard enough to tell you what I did earlier. I just don't feel like it."

Darry looked at Soda's face, hearing his words, as he saw the unmistakable traces of tears. "I don't know, little buddy. You look like you've been crying again."

Soda rubbed his face, though the action did nothing to erase what he knew his big brother could easily see. "Yeah. I cry all the time. It seems crazy I ever decided I wouldn't. Sure didn't last long at all."

"You feeling all right about going back to work tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I guess so."

"I thought you were looking forward to it a little bit more than that."

"I don't know. I guess I'm having a hard time really looking forward to anything anymore."


"I keep thinking I'm going to find just the right time to bring this up, Son. But I guess now is as good a time as any."

Steve zipped up his backpack, then lie back against his pillow, as he waited for Nicholas to continue. "Okay."

Nicholas sat down on the edge of the bed, his next statement immediately steering the conversation where he needed it to go. "I want to tell Audrey about Clara."

"Um, all right. I mean, if you two are going to be together, I guess you should, right?"

"I just wanted you to know, before I do. Because what happened then, it's not just my past, Son. It's yours too."

"So... what are you going to tell her?"

"Just that I was in a relationship with Clara. She moved in with us, and I had no idea anything was going on. But then, I caught her touching you."

"Oh. Okay. But what about everything else?"

"Like what?"

"About me. And you too. How we didn't talk about anything. And how Clara died."

"Are you sure you're going to be all right with me telling Audrey about all this, Son? Cause I don't have to yet. It can wait."

"No, I'm fine with it, Dad. It's your decision anyway. It's just I haven't thought about some things in a while, so it feels overwhelming to me."

"It's your decision too, Steve. Please hear me say that. If there's anything you don't want me to mention, I promise I won't."

"Could you not tell her I ever tried to kill myself?"

"Of course, Son. I won't tell her that part."

"I mean, I don't know why, but that just seems different than anything else."

"Because it is different."

"Cause it's something I did, and I didn't know Audrey when it happened. It's kind of not the same to tell somebody who didn't know me then."

"You don't have to explain, Son. I understand. Audrey doesn't need to know everything about what's gone on with you for me to tell her what's in my past."

"So have you told her anything yet?"

"Not really. Nothing very specific anyway. I did tell her once that we weren't always so close, and I told her about the first day I met Samuel in the church when I was there praying. So she knows something happened that hurt you. She doesn't know what."

"You really love her, don't you, Dad?"

Nicholas smiled and nudged Steve. "Huh? You're saying that without teasing now?"

Steve lifted himself off of his pillow, sitting up straight. "Yes. I am. I'm serious."

"I do love her. Those words, like you said, are straight from my heart. They're real."

"I want you to know I'm still okay with it, Dad. I'm glad you met her, and even if something's going on with me, that's not going to change."


"I'll be fine, Dar. Besides, I can't stand sitting around this house anymore."

Darry looked at Soda in his DX uniform for the first time since the night of the shooting, as he listened to the reassuring words. "I know, little buddy. I just want to make sure you're going to be okay today."

Soda picked his DX cap up off the kitchen counter and put it on his head. "I will be. At least I've already been back there those couple of times. And Mr. Coleman will be around a lot."

"Do you need to me to drive you or-?"

"Thanks, Dar. But you don't have to." Soda looked down at his right hand, flexing his fingers, the pain dulled to an ache and the weakness from his injury not as pronounced. He touched the bandage that covered the wound on his arm, as he drew in a deep breath, praying the encouragement he was giving Darry would bounce back and allow his own heart to absorb its hope-filled reflection.