Sincerity encompassed their hearts, intentions always genuine and pure, love constantly at the forefront of every battle.


The veil of trust encircled Laura's office, as Steve spoke the thoughts he'd yet to fully reveal to anyone else. "It's not bothering me like it was, but I hate to even think that anything to do with Sodapop could remind me of Clara. It just seems wrong. It is wrong."

Laura's green eyes caught Steve's gaze, before he could look away. "I very much understand why you'd never want to associate something Sodapop did with Clara or her death, but I also want you to know you aren't wrong to draw that connection. You're not comparing your abuser and your best friend, Steve. You're simply linking the present to the details you know about the past."

Steve pulled his eyes away from Laura's. "I know that. I mean, I really do, but I hate how I saw that little bit of blood and thought of her with the knife. I pictured Clara bleeding just like Grace told me about. That hurts cause this was Soda I was looking at. This was Soda drawing blood with his own fingernails because he wanted to shut off his feelings."

"Exactly. It hurt you to see Sodapop like that. Of course it did. I'm sure it shocked you. Just as it shocked you to hear about Clara's death. Both are things you didn't expect. Though for very different reasons, both scared you. The situations aren't the same at all, but the emotions they evoke for you have a lot in common."

"I know it's not like he was doing anything dangerous, but I still thought of Soda doing what she did. I couldn't help it. I don't really believe he would do that to himself, but with the way he's been since the shooting, I'm not sure what to expect anymore."

"You're worried for your best friend's life and connecting that back to Clara's suicide."

"Yeah. I guess so. Cause as much as it messed with me to even hear about her death, that's nothing compared to what it would do to me if something ever happened to Soda. I can't even stand to think about it."

"You told Sodapop about Dr. Morgan, right?"

"Yeah. I did. And after I saw what I did, I told him he has to go. His brother called and made the appointment, even though Soda's been back and forth about it. I think he's feeling kind of like I did when I first met you, and he's just worried how it'll go. But he needs to do it. I swear I've been trying to block out what he told me yesterday. I didn't even mention it to my dad."

"What did Sodapop tell you, Steve? If you feel like you need to block it out, I'm certain it's something we should address, before it becomes too overwhelming for you."

Steve was quiet, as he got to his feet and walked over to the office window, lifting a hand to touch the yellow curtains that hung over it.

"You can keep standing and moving around, if you need to."

Steve turned and walked back to his chair, then pulled it nearer to Laura's. "Is it okay if I sit here? You know, closer to you? I mean, I know you're my counselor, and it's all professional and stuff, but..."

"That's fine, Steve. Anything that makes you comfortable."

Steve sat back down in his chair, searching for the words to begin. "Me and Soda went for a drive yesterday. Not for any real reason. Just something to do, I guess."

"Okay. Go on."

"We were talking about stuff, and I started saying how I still feel guilty about my overdose sometimes. But I still know I wasn't thinking straight. I was in pain, and it screwed with my head. I told Soda that pain makes us do things we wouldn't, if we weren't hurting. So that's why I got him to keep talking to me that one night. I didn't want the pain to get control over him at all cause I know what that power is like."

"You've come so far in giving yourself compassion, even while acknowledging the existing guilt. You know how you feel, but you also know what's true."

"Yeah, and I was about to tell Soda I never want to believe he could hurt himself, but then he wanted me to stop the car. He looked sick, and it's not like he gets motion sick or anything, so I thought it must be what we were talking about."

"And was it?"

"Kind of. I pulled the car over, and Soda told me I was right about how pain screws with your head. He didn't make any sense at first, but he was saying how it makes you want to do stuff and something about it not being there. And then, he was talking about going to sleep and asking if I remembered the cough syrup he had to take for bronchitis a while back."

Laura watched Steve, as she listened to him, able to see his delayed reactions begin to surface, as his eyes closed and his breathing became fast paced. She leaned a little closer to him, her voice the calming reassurance she knew he needed to finish explaining. "Steve, you're okay. You're just here with me. I'm not sure what's in your mind right now, but I can see you're beginning to panic. Take a deep breath."

Steve did as Laura asked, eyes still closed, as he then took a series of slow, calming breaths. "As soon as Soda said that, I got this bad feeling. I got scared. I remember how drowsy that medicine made him. I went in the bathroom that one Friday night and poured that stuff out. Cause Soda had told me he thought about overdosing on something that would just make him sleep."

Laura saw Steve's eyes open back up, as she spoke. "So what did Sodapop tell you yesterday that had to do with this medicine? Did he see that it was gone?"

Steve leaned forward, hands pressing against his face, his voice trembling. "Yeah. He said he was going to take a bunch of the cough syrup and go to sleep."

"That's what wasn't there. Even though his pain was affecting his perception and decisions, the medicine wasn't there for him to act within that."

Steve felt hot tears fall out of his eyes and onto his cheeks. "It was awful to hear that, Laura. It really was. I was shaking and just grabbed Soda. It didn't even matter that were in my car on the side of the road. I grabbed him and held on to him and told him I poured the medicine down the drain."

Laura scooted to the edge of her chair, a hesitating hand reaching out to her client. "Is it okay if I touch your shoulder, Steve?"

Steve nodded, voice wobbling, as he spoke. "Yeah. It's- it's fine."

Laura rested her hand on Steve's shoulder, gently speaking to him. "I just thought the contact may help because I know this is painful for you to discuss. What's in your mind right now? What are you feeling and remembering?"

"It hurts. I think a shock kind of came over me, and that was the only reason I didn't lose it right then. That was the only reason I was able to drive us home after."

"Your mind was processing what you'd learned and cushioning the blow, so to speak."

"Yeah, and I kept saying to myself that I poured it out. Cause I had to remember it wasn't even there. Soda couldn't have done what he was thinking about cause it was already gone."

"But it's still painful to know that intention was there."

"Yeah. Cause he said he doesn't know if he would've done it or not. I don't either. I told him I wasn't mad at him, and I'm really not. But it's hard because I have this picture in my head now. It's so strong, I had to tell Soda to please wait til we got home to tell me any more cause I couldn't focus on the road at the same time. I hated doing that too cause I never want to stop him from talking."

"It's understandable though, Steve. And I know Sodapop can certainly empathize."

"Yeah, he can. I've thought about that too cause it sure hit him hard when I first came close to taking those pills. But I couldn't drive and cope with my own feelings and be there for him the way I needed to be for something like that."

"You're right. You couldn't do that and drive safely. So I take it you two finished driving home. Then, what else?"

"We just went back to my house. Soda told me the rest about that night and what he was thinking. We talked like we always do."

"Steve, you told me you have a picture in your head now, and you said it's strong. Do you want to tell me about it?"

Still feeling Laura's hand on his shoulder, Steve lifted his feet off the floor and curled up on the chair, cheek resting on his knee. "I do. But I don't know if I can. As much as my dad's here for me now, and as much as I love him, Soda's always been here for me. He's always been the best friend, the best brother. He's the only person in my life I've always been able to count on."

"Like I've said before, he's a constant in your life. I want to help you with this because, from everything you've told me in all of our time together, I know how much Sodapop means to you, what this friendship is to both of you. Which means I also know this is a deep struggle for you. It would be for anybody, but for you especially, it's important to share. It's important for you to verbalize what's going on in your mind."

Steve closed his eyes, hugging his knees to his chest. "I keep picturing Soda with that medicine bottle. It's like I can just see him taking it. Drinking down all of it. I watched that stuff go down the drain, but I have this in my head. It gets even worse than that though cause it doesn't stop there."

"Where else does this image lead, Steve? I'm not wanting to push you into discussing it, but I do want to encourage you to do so. That's why I'm asking."

Steve tucked his head into his lap, eyes peeking out at Laura, as he attempted to form words that could describe the tragic image he was carrying. "It's- it's Soda being gone. It's him lying there. Dead."


"Darry, stop! Just stop! I've already made up my mind. I wasn't askin' for your permission."

Darry narrowed his eyes at Soda, his middle brother's tone and certainty striking him. "Do not talk to me that way, Sodapop Patrick."

Soda's eyes met Darry's, not backing down. "You can stop middle-naming me. You may be my guardian now, but you're not my parent."

"The hell I'm not! I'm the adult in charge, Sodapop! That makes me your parent."

"You ain't even four years older than me, Darry."

"Doesn't matter. I'm in charge of you and Ponyboy, and I say you are going back to school."

"No, I'm not. I don't want to fight with you. It ain't like I was going to college or anything."

"You could if you applied yourself and-"

"No, I couldn't. Damn it, Darry. I'm doing this for you, and you know that!"

"But what about you, Sodapop? What about your future?"

"What future? I wasn't even going to pass the tenth grade. It's better for me to be making money. We need money, so don't pretend like we don't."

"I'm making the money! I'm the guardian, the adult. You're still a kid!"

"Darry, we've already been through all this. It's my decision, not yours! Why can't you just admit you need some help? Forget the damn pride!"

"Because I want what's best for you, little buddy. Don't you know that?"

"Of course I know that. But I want what's best for you too, Dar. And that's not this. It's not working two jobs and barely making ends meet and being so damn exhausted all the time. You're taking care of us, and you don't deserve that."

"You deserve an education! It doesn't matter if I'm exhausted. It matters that you and Pony both have what you need."

"School ain't what I need! I need to help you. I need to be there for you and for Pony. He's the one who needs school. He's the one who can get somewhere with it!"

"The state ain't going to like this, Sodapop."

"It ain't like I'm getting in any trouble. I'm doing something useful. And, like I said, you didn't ask me to do it. I'm making the choice. Who knows if I would've stayed in school even if Mom and Dad were here. I might've dropped out anyway."

"They never would've let you do that."

"If you ask me, dropping out is a hell of a lot better than staying and failing, Darry. I don't even feel like I'm giving up anything, really."

"But you still are."

"But you're more important. You and Pony both are. So be mad for a while, if you want to, but what's done is done."


"Hey, Stevie, you nappin' or somethin', man?"

Steve turned over and opened his eyes to see Soda in the doorway of his bedroom. "Or somethin'."

Soda studied Steve's face, the tell-tale signs of tears all over it. "Are you okay?"

Steve gave Soda a grin, as he sat up in bed, opening the science notebook that was beside him. "Yeah. I'm okay."

Soda saw Steve's eyes roam over the lines of diagrams and information, then sat down on the edge of the bed, before closing the notebook.

Steve stared at the spiral bound cover for a moment, Soda's hand firmly on top of it. "I need to finish looking over that, man."

"No, you don't. Not while you look like that."

"Okay. So I cried earlier. Big damn deal. You know I saw Laura today."

"You never let me tell you I'm okay when you know I'm not."

"I'm fine now, Soda. I got it all out of me. I told Laura what I needed to tell her."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes. You can let me finish studying. And tell me how work was today."

Soda moved his hand off the notebook, letting Steve open it. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"I get worried about you sometimes, Stevie."

"I know. But I swear I'm taking care of myself. I'm not going to lose it or anything, man. You don't gotta worry."

"Okay. So long as I know you're doing what you need to do."

"I am, buddy. I am." Steve turned the page of his science notebook, studying what he'd written. "So did you talk to Coleman today? I know you were supposed to tell him how your appointment went, right?"

"Yeah. But he was off today. So I'll tell him about it tomorrow."

"Maybe soon, he'll let you do more work in the garage."

"I hope so. The most I've gotten to do with cars lately is oil changes." Soda watched his best friend, seeing him going over the class notes. "Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember how you used to go to your mom's grave to just, I don't know, be there?"

"Sure, man."

"Did that make you feel closer to her?"

"I guess it must have. Especially with the way things were between me and my dad then, something about it just helped me."

"I've been thinking about going to my parents' graves. I've only been back once, and it was right after their funeral."

"If you want to, you should do it."

"But I guess I was just wondering if- if you'd come with me?"

"Sure I would, buddy. But that's not something you'd want to do with Darry or Pony?"

"I don't know. I mean, they haven't gone back there either."

"Not that you know of. Remember how it turned out both me and my dad had been going to my mom's grave?"

"Yeah. I remember."

"And you know, even if your brothers haven't gone, they'd do it for you, if you want to."

"Yeah. I guess it's just that I already know you get why I want to. Cause you were going through a real hard time too when you started going to the cemetery. I mean, I have a lot more memories with my parents than you got to have with your mom, but-"

"That ain't a contest either, buddy. And you don't gotta sit here and explain. Whenever you want to, I'll go with you."


"What do you mean you dropped out of school? Is that why Darry's looked mad all night?"

Soda lie down in bed beside Pony, turning over to face him. "Yeah. That's why he's pissed."

Pony lie flat on his back, turning his head to see Soda's expression with its certainty in place. "But, Soda, that ain't you."

"What ain't me?"

"A drop-out. It makes you sound like a delinquent or something."

"Well, I sure ain't that. It's not some awful thing to do. Darry will get over it too."

"Probably going to take him a long time. Why'd you do it, Soda? You're smart."

"No, I ain't, Pone. Not like that anyway. Just with cars and people and stuff. It makes more sense for me to help Darry pay the bills and all."

"But you're only sixteen. How can you do that?"

"I'm going to work full-time at the DX station."

"You're not going to miss being at school?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'll miss some stuff."

"I'm going to high school next year, Soda. I might need you, and you won't be there with me."

"I'm sorry, Pone. But I'll be here. It ain't like I won't still be in your life. Just not at school."

"Who's going to look out for me then?"

"You'll have the guys. They've got your back, as much as I would."

"I don't know about that. Maybe Johnny, but not Steve or TwoBit."

"Aw, the gang cares about you, Kiddo. You know that."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"No guessin' to it. I'll tell you what. I'll have talk with them about it when the time comes."

"Especially Steve?"

"Yeah. I'll tell them to be sure they look out for you. They will, you'll see."


"Told you they wouldn't be that hard to find."

Soda stared at the two simple headstones in the ground, hearing Steve's voice from behind him. "Yeah."

Steve took a step closer to Soda, touching his shoulder. "I'll be close by, buddy. But I'm going to give you some space."

Soda's eyes moved over the names engraved in the stones, permanently marking the resting places of Darrel Curtis Sr. and Elaine Curtis. He looked at the ground, seeing how the graves were no longer fresh, grass covering the dirt that had filled the holes. "Don't, Steve. Don't go anywhere."

"Okay. I'll just stay right here then, man."

Soda looked around the cemetery, seeing the surrounding graves that made up its array of death and demise. His gaze then moved back to his parents' graves, eyes staring at the ground, as this place evoked not memories, but raw images of eternal stillness.

"Soda? You okay?"

Soda pictured eyes that were closed forever and trapped bodies beneath the ground, decay turning them into bones that no longer carried life or flesh. "This wasn't a good idea, Stevie."

"We don't have to stay, buddy."

Soda took a step backwards, reaching to grip Steve's shirt, as his thoughts fell prey to darkness. "Please. Let's go. This just makes it worse."

Steve put his arm around Soda, squeezing his shoulders. "Sure, man. Let's get out of here."

Soda remained where he stood, eyes boring into the ground. They're not alive, he thought. Nothing out here is alive.

"It's totally up to you, buddy. But if being here is making anything worse, you probably shouldn't stay. That's okay. It's not a big deal."

Soda felt his grip on Steve's shirt get tighter, his body growing tense. My parents are dead, he thought. They're all dead. They're all bones that don't feel anything.

Steve gave Soda a small shake, noticing the far-away look in his eyes. "Snap out of it, man. Whatever's in your head right now sure as hell ain't something you need to get lost in."

Nothing out here feels any pain, Soda thought. "Yeah. You're right." They're all under the ground. "It's not." Buried within the Earth. "I don't feel so good. Let's go." Where they never have to hurt. Their breaths ceased and spirits forever at rest in the peace of eternity.


"So what were you wanting to tell me? Why haven't I seen you at school lately?"

Soda felt Sandy's arms around his waist and drew her closer. "Cause I'm not going back. I got a full-time job at the DX station. I have to help Darry."

Sandy pulled away, so she was looking right at Soda's face. "But he has two jobs, right? Doesn't he want you to stay in school and graduate?"

"Yeah. He's got two jobs, but it's barely enough, and all he does is work. He wants me to stay in school, but it was my choice to drop out. He ain't happy about it right now."

"So you're just going to be working at the DX now?"

"Yeah. I wasn't going to pass this year anyway, Sandy. You know how important it is for me and my brothers to stay together, and we need money for that."

"It's not important for you to get a diploma, Sodapop?"

"No, not really. I mean, I know it's supposed to be, but it's not. It ain't like I'm Ponyboy and going to college or something."

"Well, I'll miss seeing you at school."

"I'll miss seeing you there too. But we can still spend plenty of time together."

"Yeah."

"How about I take you dancing tonight?"

"Sure. I'd like that a lot, Sodapop."

Soda's face lit up with a smile, as he took Sandy's hand. "We'll dance and have some fun." He leaned so that his face lingered in front of hers and pressed a kiss to her lips, before his voice dropped to a near whisper. "Then, me and you will have a real fun time alone."


"All right. I'm just going to ask. What the hell were you thinking about out there, man?"

Soda felt a fingernail begin to press into his arm and pulled the hand away from the skin, before looking at Steve, who was beside him on the steps of the Randles' back porch. "It's a cemetery. It made me think about death. I wasn't thinking about Mom and Dad at all."

Steve inhaled a long puff of the cigarette in his hand, breathing out the smoke, before he replied. "That's okay. The same things don't always help everyone."

"But I think it would've before. Cause it didn't bother me like that to be in a cemetery the times I was there with you."

"I think your head's in a different place now than it was. So things affect you in a different way than they did then."

"Yeah, cause I didn't think about death all the time before. And when I did, I didn't think of it like this."

Steve closed his eyes, lips pressed to hold the cigarette in his mouth, as he tried to breathe in any semblance of relaxation. He then blew smoke into the fresh air, the feeling short-lived. God, help me, he thought. You gotta help me here. "Like what?"

"Like it's some kind of relief."

Steve threw his cigarette to the ground, stomping hard on it. "Do you know why I was crying earlier?"

"No. Why?"

"Cause it hurts like hell to think of you dying. There's no pain I've felt that could be worse. And that's saying something after what I've been through."

"Yeah. It is. It hurt me when I thought about you dying too, Stevie."

"I know it did. That's one reason I'm telling you this, man. Would it have been a relief if I had died?"

"No. Of course not. It would've been terrible. You know that. I've said so much to you about it."

"I knew the answer already, buddy. I just want you to see something. Cause even if you feel like death would be a relief, it's still not true. I thought the same thing, or I never would've tried to kill myself."

"At the cemetery, it was like I just kept looking at the ground and thinking of what's under it."

"Dead people?"

"Well, yeah, but people that don't feel pain or anything. Bodies and bones that can't hurt anymore."

"That's all it's about, man. The pain you've got inside. You know what else I think?"

"What?"

"You were relieved the cough syrup was gone, and you were scared because you don't know if you would've taken it or not. So that tells me you do know the truth under all this shit. These feelings and impulses make you blind to it sometimes, but you're not in so deep that you can never see it. If you were, you would've been pissed at me for pouring the stuff out."

"I'm glad you did that, Stevie. I really am."

"That's cause you still know it'd be anything but a relief for you to be dead. You know the best word to describe what it would be?"

"What?"

"Devastating. For me, for your brothers, for Penny, for everyone who knows you." Steve put his hand on Soda's back and rubbed it gently, swallowing hard, before he continued. "And for you too, buddy. Cause you deserve to be here with us. You deserve to feel better. You've got the kindest heart, man. The best in the world. So no matter what's hurting, please always remember you're Sodapop Curtis, and this pain is not who you are. And even though it feels like it, cause believe me, I know it does, it won't be there forever."


"So what do we do now, Sodapop?"

Soda looked at Sandy's smiling face, as they stood in the dark parking lot, still able to hear the music playing inside. He moved closer to her, pressing her back up against her mother's car they'd borrowed for the evening.

Sandy felt Soda's mouth on hers, soaking in the sensation, as his hands began to wander farther down.

Soda broke the kiss, his fingers sliding inside the waistband of Sandy's skirt. "If you want, we can get in that backseat, and I'll take you all the way tonight, baby."

Sandy slipped her hands underneath the front of Soda's shirt and massaged his chest and stomach. "Oh, yes, Sodapop. I want you to be my first. I've been dreaming about it."

Soda's body ached for Sandy, as he ran his hands beneath her shirt and unhooked her bra, whispering in her ear. "This is gonna be so good, you'll want me to be your last."


"I didn't mean anything, Dad. Just not in the best mood. That's all."

Nicholas joined Steve on the couch, seeing his son staring at the TV screen, though his eyes held little interest. "Something wrong, Son?"

Steve glanced at Nicholas, able to see the invitation in his dad's gaze. "Everything's wrong, Dad."

Nicholas got up and turned off the TV, before sitting back down beside Steve. "What does that mean? How are you feeling right now?"

"You sound so much like Laura."

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment then. But you actually haven't said much at all for the last couple of days. So what's on your mind, Son?"

"I can't just be in a bad mood?"

"No. Cause I know there's usually something underneath that."

"I think I get my pushiness from you."

"Probably. But I prefer to call it determination."

"I'm pissed off at the world, Dad. I'm pissed off that the best guy I've ever known hurts so bad, he gets to feeling like death would be a relief."

"Sodapop said that?"

Steve got to his feet, pacing around the living room. "No, Dad. The King of France said it! Of course Sodapop said it! Who the hell else would I be talking about?"

"Son-"

"No! You wanted me to talk, so let me fuckin' talk! I'm not mad at Soda, but I'm pissed this could even happen. It's one thing for me to have ever felt like I wanted to die. But there's so much wrong with Soda feeling that way. He's always loved life. Hell, he still loves life. He wouldn't be so damn broken up over what he wanted to do last weekend, if he didn't. He wouldn't have been falling apart on the side of the road cause of what wasn't even in the medicine cabinet, if he didn't love life."

Nicholas got up off the couch and went to stand behind Steve, who had ceased pacing the floor and was now still, the anger on his features beginning to give way to what else lay beneath it. "Steve, it's okay to be angry. It is. But what happened that you haven't told me yet? It's not good for you to-"

"I'm not, Dad! I told Laura earlier, so don't tell me it's not good to keep it inside, like I don't fuckin' know that already!"

Nicholas laid a hand on Steve's shoulder, gripping it in an anchoring touch, as he moved to stand in front of his son.

Steve pulled his eyes away from Nicholas' kind gaze, attempting to ignore the tears he felt gathering. "Don't look at me like that, Dad. Please."

"Why? Cause you want me to yell back at you? I'm not about to do that, Son."

Steve felt Nicholas' arms wrap around him and pushed against his chest, refusing the embrace, even while he longed for it. "No, Dad. Don't. Cause I don't want to breakdown anymore."

Nicholas didn't let go of Steve, only holding him tighter, as he heard his son's voice struggling to stay steady. "There's nothing wrong with breaking down and nothing wrong with letting me hold you while you do. I've done it so many times before. You've done the same thing for me. You've done it for Sodapop too."

Steve leaned against Nicholas, the fight leaving him, as he started to melt into his dad's arms. "Soda told me he was going to do it, Dad. He told me he was going to take the cough syrup that was in the bathroom. Cause it made him really drowsy when he took it before. So if he overdosed on it, he'd just go to sleep."

Nicholas bowed his head, letting it rest against Steve's, though the urgency rang clear in his voice. "When, Son? He told you this today?"

Steve's arms found their way around Nicholas, hugging him back, as he rested his head on his dad's chest. "He told me yesterday, but it happened last Sunday night. The cough syrup was gone cause I had already poured it out after everything he said to me before."

Nicholas let out a breath, relaxing a little bit. "Okay. So he was going to, but the medicine wasn't there anymore?"

"Yeah. So he couldn't."

"Jesus, Son. I'm still so sorry. I know how much it must've hurt to hear that."

"It did." Steve let the tears fall from his eyes, no longer feeling an urge to stop them. "It hurts even more to think about what could've happened, if I hadn't poured it out. I can't lose him, Dad. I can't lose Soda. Especially not like that."

"Shh. You're not going to lose him. Because we're all going to do everything we can to keep him safe."

"Dad, I don't want to, but I think I should talk to Darry again. I feel like I keep doing that so much, but shouldn't he know about this too?"

Nicholas put his hand on Steve's head, combing his fingers through his hair. "Yes, Son. If it were you, I'd want to know. And if you want me to, I can talk to him with you."

"I'm sorry I was yelling at you."

"It's fine. I know where it's coming from." Nicholas pulled back to look at Steve's face, his own tears welling up, as he could see the pain etched into his son's eyes, the hurt so much a part of his being in this very moment. "I promise you, Son. Just like you always say, it's Soda. So we're going to keep taking care of him."