The hearts that had been linked by both tragedy and triumph remained connected through times of joy and pain.


"Damn, Stevie, if you laugh any harder, you're going to hurt yourself."

Steve still laughed, punching in on the time clock, as he responded to Soda. "But it was that funny, man. He practically went sliding down the hallway. Totally didn't see the 'wet floor' sign. I swear I tried to warn him."

Soda chuckled at the image of TwoBit gliding along a slippery floor. "Sure you did, buddy."

"I actually did, but he was too busy yapping about something or other to pay attention."

"So what happened? Did he fall on his ass?"

"Oh yeah! But you know TwoBit. He was laughing the whole time. I went to help him up and was laughing so hard, I almost fell too."

"Now, that would've been a sight."

"Yep. Two tough Greasers on their asses in the hallway. Man, I'd have been embarrassed, but he wasn't at all."

"Yeah, TwoBit ain't one to get embarrassed." Soda went over to the time clock himself, punching out for the day. "Hey, I know it ain't Friday yet, but do you want to do something tonight after you get off work?"

"Man, it's good to hear you say that."

"Yeah. I just think tomorrow's going to be a real long day, you know? Cause I have that appointment with Dr. Simons."

"And you don't think you'll be up to going out and doing anything."

"Yeah. Pretty much. So I thought we could go for pizza and play some pool."

"Sure, man. I could go for whipping your ass at the pool table. It's been a while."

"Nah. I think I'll beat you this time. Ten bucks says I do."

"You're on, buddy. I'll see you after work."


"Vivian went to meet up with a couple of friends from the grief group she used to go to."

Nicholas sat down in the chair across from Samuel. "That'll probably be good for her."

Samuel tapped his fingers on the Randles' kitchen table, as he sighed. "Yeah. It felt good to me to go to work today. I think I needed it. Vivian and I... I'm not saying we're having problems with one another or anything, but she said something to me a couple of days ago that I can't stop thinking about."

"What'd she say?"

"She asked if I'm relieved because we're not having a baby, if this feels better to me than being afraid. It took me off guard, Nicholas. I hate that she could think that even for a second."

"What did you tell her?"

"That I wanted the baby too. Being scared never meant that I didn't. She asked me once if I was sad too. Of course I'm sad, and I'm not relieved this happened. I can't even imagine feeling that way."

"You haven't told Vivian about the guilt you've been feeling, have you?"

"No. Because she's going through so much grief. I don't want her to be dealing with my feelings too."

"Maybe you should share them with her, especially since she's asking questions about how you are. And you told me she asked you what she did wrong, so it could help her to know she's not alone in feeling guilty."

Samuel felt himself begin to smile for the first time in days. "You've been listening to me way too much this past year."

"Has it been a year?"

"Not quite, but close enough."

"Well, if I sound like you, then I must be right. Tell Vivian how you're feeling. At least then, she won't have to wonder."


"Sodapop Patrick! I told you to clean up this house!"

Soda stared at Darry, the use of his middle name unexpected. "I'm sorry, Dar. I'll clean it, I swear. It ain't that much of a mess."

Darry looked around the living room and kitchen, seeing dishes left out, clothes and shoes scattered on the floor, and a carpet that clearly hadn't been vacuumed. "We can't do this, little buddy. You hear me? A social worker is going to be checking on us. We have to make the house look as good as we can."

"Oh. I didn't- I mean, I didn't know anybody would check up on us. Cause you're an adult. You're almost twenty."

"Which isn't old, especially when we're talking about me being the guardian of two teenage boys."

Soda started collecting the dirty dishes and taking them to the sink. "I'm sorry, Dar. I don't want us to look bad."

"Just clean up, Sodapop. I gotta shower and start on some dinner."

Pony came in from the back porch, a pack of cigarettes in his hand. "What's all the yellin' about?"

Soda picked up the dirty clothes and tossed them in a laundry basket. "Nothin', Pone. We're fine."

Darry eyed the cigarette pack in Pony's hand. "You gotta back off on the smokin', Kiddo. You're thirteen for cryin' outloud."

Pony rolled his eyes. "I ain't smokin' much. Just need it to calm me down some. Besides, you never cared before."

Darry snatched the pack away from Pony, looking inside at the cigarettes that were left. "I wasn't trying to be your guardian before. At least cool it with the smokin' til after the state comes to check on us. I don't want you smellin' like that around a social worker."

Pony took off his coat, then sat down on the sofa. "Social worker? Why do we need one of those?"

Darry sighed, as he rubbed his head. "I need one to attest that I'm a fit guardian for you ? Did both of you think they'd just hand me custody, no questions asked? It doesn't work that way."

Soda took the pack of cigarettes and tossed it back to Pony, before putting his hands on Darry's shoulders and pushing him toward the bathroom. "Go take a shower, Dar. I promise we'll clean up. Just relax and don't worry about a thing."


Soda leaned forward, eyeing the solid yellow ball that was directly across from the cue ball.

Steve watched, as the cue stick slid between two fingers of Soda's right hand, then made contact with the cue ball.

Soda still leaned forward, as the cue ball bumped into the yellow solid, knocking it right into a corner pocket. "Better be ready to pay up, Stevie."

"Don't count your chickens before they hatch, man. You still gotta sink one more, before the eight ball."

Soda took aim once again, eyeing the red solid he needed to sink into a side pocket.

"Who says you can't focus? If you stare any harder, your eyes are going to sink that ball."

"Yeah. It'll be like magic." Soda let the cue stick slide between his fingers, then hit the cue ball.

Steve saw the cue ball make contact with the red solid, which rolled forward, then stopped near the edge of the side pocket.

"Well, damn, that chicken sure didn't hatch."

"And, now, it's my turn." Steve lined the cue stick up, then took his shot, making the striped green ball roll across the pool table, then bounce off the side. "Man! What the hell do you call that?"

"Um, I think I would call it a miss, Stevie."

Steve gave Soda a shove, unable to keep from chuckling at the thoughtful expression that covered his best friend's face. "No shit, man."

Soda grinned, as he got ready to take his next turn. "I feel like another slice of pizza after I'm done kicking your ass."

Steve eyed the solid colored ball and the striped one that remained on the pool table, along with the eight ball. "Well, we'll see about that, buddy. But, yeah, I could go for another too."

Soda looked at Steve for a moment, before turning his gaze back to the pool table. "Thanks, Stevie."

"For what?"

"Just...Thanks."

Steve clapped Soda on the back. "All right then. You're welcome for whatever it is. Now, let's finish the game, get more pizza, then head on home."


"Hey, sweetheart, how was it seeing your friends?"

Vivian felt Samuel kiss her cheek, as she set her purse down on the dresser. "It was good talking to them. What did you do tonight?"

Samuel, fresh out of the shower and clad only in thin pair of pants, put his dirty laundry and wet towel in the hamper. "I went over to Nicholas' for a little while."

Vivian reached in a drawer for her nightgown, then started undoing the buttons on her dress.

Samuel watched his wife undress herself, then slide the nightgown over her head. "You're so pretty, honey."

Before Vivian could reply, Samuel's lips were on hers. She pressed her hands to his chest, as she broke the kiss. "You know we can't, right, Samuel? Not for at least a couple of weeks."

Samuel ran his fingers over the straps of Vivian's nightgown, touching her bare shoulders. "I know. But, tonight, I still want to love you in any way that I can."


"Damn it, Steve. I can't take this. Everybody knows!"

Steve heard the Ford's passenger door slam, as Soda got in the seat beside him. "Easy, buddy. What happened?"

Soda shoved a wrinkled up exam paper toward Steve. "This! Just like I told you. I fuckin' failed again. And the way Mrs. Patterson looked at me, the way everybody has looked at me ever since Mom and Dad..."

Steve saw the 62% at the top of the test paper and sighed, as he heard Soda trail off. "Buddy, I-"

"I'm not stayin', Steve. I can't do this anymore."

"Not stayin' where?"

"At school."

"Maybe you should skip the rest of the day, man. You sound like you need a break."

"No. I mean I should just drop out."

"What the hell are you talking about, Sodapop? You can't just leave school."

"Why not? I ain't going to pass this year. I could get a job and be making money. I could be doing something useful, Steve."

"A high school diploma is useful, man. Come on, don't give up so damn fast. At least give it more time than this. You've got most of the semester ahead of you. Besides, Darry's not going to let you drop out anyway."

"That's true. He'd lose his shit, if I even told him it crossed my mind."

"Damn right he would. So just hang in there. Hell, you've made it this far. You can still pull your grades up and pass."

Soda took the exam paper back from Steve and folded it so the grade was no longer visible. "All right. I'll stay. But we gotta split for a while."

Steve picked up his keys and started the car. "Sure thing, man. Let's beat it out of here, and go grab something to eat."


Steve shifted into reverse, backing the Ford out of the painted white lines of the parking space. "Hey, we gotta do this again soon, so I can win my money back."

Soda nodded from his place in the passenger seat, seeing the street lamp on the corner, its light making the night seem less dark. "Yeah."

Steve drove out of the parking lot of the pizza place, making the left turn that would take them to the Curtis' house. "What? You ain't even going to tell me you'll beat me next time too?"

"Nah. I guess not."

Steve cut his eyes toward Soda, catching his expression, even in the dark. "Oh, no you don't, buddy. No way."

"Huh?"

"You've been doing good all day and night, man."

"Oh."

"Please don't go breaking down on me now."

"I won't."

Silence filled the car, Steve's eyes watching the road in front of him, as he also glanced at Soda.

Soda leaned his head on the window that was cracked, fresh air flowing inside the Ford, as he saw himself in the sideview mirror.

Steve took the next right turn, the Curtis' house now only a couple of blocks away. "I'm sorry, buddy. I shouldn't have said that."

"Ain't a big deal."

"But I still shouldn't have."

"Was trying real hard, Stevie."

"I know. Hey, it's still good to feel better for a little while."

"Guess so."

Steve pulled up beside the Curtis' driveway, stopping behind Soda's Chevy. "I'll see you sometime tomorrow, okay?"

Soda reached for the door handle, as he nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

Steve saw that Soda was hesitating, still, as he didn't open the door. He turned the car off, then leaned to lay a hand on his best friend's back. "What do you need right now, Sodapop?"

"Don't know."

"Why did you tell me thanks?"

"Just wanted to."

"Wanted to why?"

"Cause you're my best friend."

"But what else are you thinking, man?"

"You've been here for me so much. I want you to know it means a lot to me."

"I know that, and it's what I'm here for, buddy. You told me once that's what brothers do."

Soda let go of the door handle to sit back against the passenger seat. "But I guess I'm trying to say even more than that."

"So what then?"

"I just- I want to tell you thanks for still being my best friend, for still wanting to come out with me tonight."

"Of course, buddy."

"I guess I get worried, Stevie. Like I think no one will want me anymore. I said some stuff to Darry the other night cause of it."

"Aw, buddy, you never have to worry about that." Steve reached for Soda's shoulder and squeezed, as he caught his gaze. "I mean it, man. Never."

Soda's eyes dropped away from Steve's, as he looked down. "I've never been afraid about anything like that before. But it's like I get scared of not being loved."

"Sodapop, you couldn't be more loved than you are, man, and that ain't ever going away. All these feelings you've got, they're messin' up how you see things, how you see yourself. You have no idea how much I wish I could fix that for you, buddy."

"I think this is why I fight you and Darry so much sometimes, Stevie. Cause I have that feeling, and I need to prove it wrong."

"I can see that. If you're a pain in the ass, and we still don't walk away from you or give up, that tells you we love you. Am I right?"

"Yeah."

"Lately, you've kind of reminded me of when I felt like I didn't deserve for anyone to help me or care about me. So I tried to push all of you away. But nobody ever left. Not my dad, not you, not Evie. Not Laura either. You guys kept showing me I was loved. That's what you all did, no matter what. So those feelings finally had to let go of me."

"I guess I kinda feel like that too. But I don't really know why. It's just there."

"You've been coping with a hell of a lot of guilt, and I think that's probably why. If you're thinking you've done stuff that's wrong, then it makes sense for you to feel like you don't deserve to be loved or helped. But you do, buddy. Please let that sink in."

"I'm tryin' to."

"You're not doing a damn thing wrong either. No matter what any of those feelings tell you. Everything you've got going on inside, it just means you're in pain. It doesn't mean anything else. It sure as hell doesn't mean anybody in your life is going to stop caring about you. Nothing even has that kind of power. Trust me."


"You got home late for a school night, Son."

Steve spit toothpaste into the sink, then rinsed off his toothbrush, as he replied to Nicholas. "Yeah. I didn't have any homework, and Soda wanted to go do something. So we did."

Nicholas stood in the bathroom doorway, letting out a yawn, before he spoke. "What'd you two do?"

Steve set his toothbrush back in the holder and switched off the light, making his way to his bedroom. "Went to that pizza place that has the pool table. We ate and played a round. I lost ten bucks."

Nicholas chuckled, as he followed Steve down the hallway. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Soda kicked my ass." Steve pulled back the covers on his bed, then got in it. "Nah. Not really, he didn't. It was a close game."

"Sounds like you had a good time."

"Yeah. We did. I think Soda needed it." Steve lie down, wrapping himself in the blanket, as he rested his head on the pillow. "And I needed it too."


"Well, it looks like everything is in order, Darrel. I will be recommending that Ponyboy and Sodapop remain in your custody."

Darry put out his hand to shake that of Linda Clark, the social worker, who had come to visit their home. "Thank you, ma'am."

Soda sat beside Pony on the couch, letting out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding.

Linda spoke once again, as the handshake ended, and she looked inside one of the folders she carried. "Even after custody is officially granted, I will be checking in with you all once a month to make sure everything is still going well. I don't prefer to ever remove minors from the home, especially after an event as traumatic as the deaths of both parents. But if I ever have reason to believe that either of the boys would be better off elsewhere, I won't hesitate to act on their behalf."

Darry nodded, holding back the defensive words that initially tried to slip off his tongue. "I understand. We won't be having any issues that will make that necessary."

Soda remained quiet, swallowing back what he wanted to say, his mind pleading to never be separated from his brothers.

Pony's mouth opened to speak, but then, he felt Soda's hand on his shoulder. He looked at his middle brother, seeing him shaking his head.

Linda turned to Pony and Soda, giving them a smile. "I'm sorry for the circumstances, but it was nice to meet the two of you. I'll see you boys again soon."

Soda stood to his feet, flashing his biggest grin, as he held out his hand. "Nice to meet you too, ma'am. There ain't going to be any trouble around here either. You can count on us."


"So there really is nerve damage, huh? I mean, I knew that's what you were going to say, but..."

Darry put a hand on Soda's back, as his middle brother trailed off, then spoke to Dr. Simons. "So what do you do for it then?"

Dr. Simons sat down on his rolling chair, moving it forward, so he was right in front of Soda. "There are ways to manage this, Sodapop. From everything you've indicated to me, your symptoms are rather mild, and also not constant. The affected nerve in your arm was subjected to traumatic pressure and stretching when you were shot, but-"

Soda flinched at Dr. Simons' words, feeling Darry squeeze his shoulder. "It's okay. You can finish what you were saying."

Dr. Simons spoke again, his gaze level with Soda's. "But I know of some steps you can take to help relieve the pressure and tension, and I believe you'll ultimately see a great deal of improvement."


"Can I just have a minute by myself? Please, Dar?"

Darry stood in the hall beside Soda and saw how his middle brother looked down at the information and instructions the doctor had given him, as well as the splint that would also play a role in treatment. "That was still a lot of good news, little buddy."

Soda kept rereading the word "neuropathy" on the printed pages he held, the diagnosis unsettling to him, despite the hope Dr. Simons had so readily offered. "I know. I just need a second alone. You can go on out to the truck, and I'll be there in a little bit. So long as I'm not making you late for work?"

"You're not. I've still got enough time between now and when I told Mr. Sanders I'd be back." Darry glanced at his watch, then looked down the hallway toward the office they'd just come out of, noticing Dr. Simons' door was still open. "Actually, I'm going to see if there's a bathroom down there, then I'll be outside. You just come out when you're ready."

"Okay. I will."

Darry waited until Soda's gaze had shifted away from him, before he went toward the open door.

Dr. Simons heard a knock and looked up from the notes he was writing. "Oh. Hello again, Mr. Curtis. Is there something I can do for you?"

Darry stepped fully into the office, his eyes meeting Dr. Simons'. "No. There's just something I want you to know about. Sodapop had an appointment almost a week ago with the counselor whose name you gave us."

"Oh? So how'd it go?"

"Terrible. I didn't want to mention it in front of Sodapop because he had a really hard time with it. But she told him he needed to take responsibility for getting shot."

"She what? I'm so sorry, Mr. Curtis. I had no idea that would happen."

"I'm not blaming you, Doctor. Not at all. I just wanted you to know what kind of person this lady is. She even tried to defend herself afterwards by saying she was only telling him the truth."

"I hate that for Sodapop. I hate that for any one of my patients who's been injured in any circumstances. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No. But thank you anyway. I just wanted to tell you, so you'd be aware she's not the type of counselor anyone needs."


"TwoBit, you better knock it off! I don't want a mess around here!"

TwoBit picked up the lamp he'd just knocked over, as he responded to Darry's warning. "Aw, I ain't breakin' nothin'. Man, you sure are getting old before your time."

Darry turned off the oven, then took out the tray of baked chicken. "But I ain't too old to kick your head in."

Soda reached for a piece of chicken, only to pull his hand back from the heat.

Darry rolled his eyes, as he took off his oven mitt. "Yeah, it's hot, little buddy. I just took it out of the oven."

TwoBit grabbed Steve in a headlock, wrestling him to the floor. "Holler uncle, Steve-O!"

Steve fought against the hold. "Cut it out, man. Unless you want Darry's muscles to come in here and remind you he's all brawn and no brain."

The words casting a silent tension over the house, Soda stood frozen, as Darry left the kitchen and shoved TwoBit away from Steve.

Darry's eyes zeroed in on Steve's face, as he hauled the boy up off the floor then made a fist that then collided with his jaw.

Steve's eyes immediately watered at the pain, as he felt Darry release him. He dropped to the floor, left cheek cradled in his hand.

Soda went to Steve's side, as he heard Darry's footsteps, then the slam of a bedroom door.

TwoBit broke out of his own shock and went to grab Steve an ice pack from the freezer.

Soda pried Steve's fingers away from his face, seeing him visibly shake from the pain. "You're going to have one hell of a bruise. If you weren't my best friend, I might've punched you too."

Steve felt the ice pack press against his cheek, as he looked up at Soda. "Sorry. Didn't mean anything by it."

TwoBit eyed the forming bruise on Steve's face. "Man, you're lucky as hell he didn't break your jaw."

Soda rubbed Steve's back, as he helped him keep the ice in place. "You really are. You gotta think, before you talk, Steve."

Steve clenched his eyes closed, both at the pain from the punch and the tone of Soda's voice. "You pissed at me too?"

Soda sighed, his eyes not leaving Steve. "I was. But it's kinda fading away, watching you right now. You better apologize to Darry. You can't say shit like that about him."

Steve looked in the direction of Darry's bedroom, knowing that had been the source of the slammed door. "Should let him cool off first, right?"

Soda followed Steve's gaze. "Oh yeah. I'll talk to him first. You do it too soon, and he might hit you again. Come on, Stevie, let's get you up off this floor."

Steve felt both TwoBit and Soda slip an arm around his waist and hoist him up to his feet, before guiding him to the sofa. "Really am sorry, Soda."

Soda moved the ice pack to see the swollen skin that was beginning to turn black and blue. "I know, buddy. I ain't mad at you now." He glanced down the hallway, before looking back at Steve. "I'm going to go talk to Darry now. But don't you dare think about going anywhere near him until I've got him calmed down."

TwoBit patted Steve's shoulder. "Yeah, man. I ain't itchin' to see Darry actually break your face."

Steve laid back against the sofa cushions, his face smarting with pain. "Yeah. I ain't itchin' to feel it either. Damn, Soda, your big brother sure does pack a mean punch."


"I don't feel good about leaving you alone, Sodapop."

Soda heard Darry's concern from his place in the passenger seat of the truck. "I'll be all right, Dar. You can go to work."

Darry stopped the truck in front of the house, the hesitation still clear on his face. "Would you tell me if you thought you might not be all right?"

Soda remained silent for a moment, before answering. "Yeah. I would."

"Okay, little buddy. I'll see you when I get back home. It'll be a few hours."

"I'll be fine, Dar. Besides, school's out. So I think I'm going to head over and see Penny."


"What the hell are you doing, Dad?"

Nicholas heard Steve's amused question, as he eyed the dress pants and button-up shirts he had laid out on the bed. "Deciding what to wear tonight."

Steve's smile grew, the door wide open for him to tease his dad. "Oh. For Audrey, huh? What are you two doing tonight?"

"I'm not actually sure yet."

"But you want to look good for her, no matter what. Cause who knows, maybe you'll get lucky."

Nicholas' face blushed red, as he quickly picked out a deep green shirt and gray pants. "Oh. Um. This should do just fine."

Steve heard the stammer in his dad's words and burst out laughing. "Or maybe you already have."

Nicholas didn't look at Steve, only fixated on the clothes. "Uh, I don't think that's something I should discuss with my son."

"Which means I must be right. Come on, Dad. It ain't like I don't know what goes on between couples. I mean, it's not something I want to see. But you're both adults. You can do what you want."

"I know, Son."

"Just do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Don't ever do it with me in the house."


"Hey, Dar? Can I talk to you?"

Darry quickly shoved the papers he'd been looking at into his desk drawer, before speaking to Soda. "I hope you had some words with your best friend."

Soda's eyes narrowed, as he looked at the drawer, then back at his brother. "You look nervous. What were those papers?"

Darry's head dropped into his hands. "Nothing for you to worry about, little buddy."

"Don't bullshit me, Darry. I ain't a little kid."

"You're sixteen, Sodapop. Only just turned sixteen four months ago too. Everything's under control."

"What are you talking about?" Soda reached for the drawer's handle and snatched it open, before Darry could stop him.

Darry reached for the papers, only for Soda to grab them first and turn away.

Soda read the "past due" on the water bill, the electric bill, and the gas bill. "This ain't lookin' like everything's under control, Darry."

"It is. I've almost got enough to pay some of each one. Enough that nothing will get turned off."

"Looks like the gas and the electric were already a month behind before Mom and Dad died."

"Yeah, little buddy. They were. But it was okay. They were catching up. It was just hard, especially this time of year. They'd been helping me with some of my school expenses too, so they were stretched pretty damn thin."

"Then, we had Christmas too, right before the accident."

"Exactly. It's just it's only been about five weeks, so I need more time to get everything steady."

Soda handed the bills back to Darry, then sat down in front of his brother. "I ain't saying Steve had a right to say what he did in there, and I did talk to him. But is this why you snapped so hard?"

"Yeah. I guess so. I've gotta look for a second job, or things will get behind every month."

"The social worker ain't going to like this."

"Well, she'd like it even less if I paid the bills, instead of buying enough food."

"I can't let you work yourself to death, Darry. I have to help."

"You have school, little buddy. I'll figure out the rest."

"Well, I can at least work part time. You can't do this by yourself."

"But I have to. So just trust me. It's my job to take care of you and Pony. So that's what I'm going to do, no matter what it takes."


"Sodapop! I thought I'd never see you this week!"

Soda saw Penny's blue eyes light up, just before she wrapped her arms around him. "I know. I'm sorry."

Penny pulled away, though her arms remained around Soda's waist, as she looked up at his face. "It's okay. I just missed you."

Soda smiled, as his hands cupped Penny's face, one of his thumbs rubbing her cheek. "I missed you too."

Penny felt Soda's lips connect with hers, letting herself melt into his kiss for several moments, before breaking it. "My parents will be out for a few more hours, if you want to stay for a while and make it up to me."

Soda put his hand in Penny's blond hair that hung loose down her back. "I'd love to."