(Soda)
"Ponyboy?" I called to the quiet house. Darry hadn't wanted to leave him alone, but we couldn't afford to take off, with the bills we owed and were going to owe.
I heard violent coughing coming from the bathroom and rushed to throw open the door. My brother was bent over the sink, spitting out blood. I rubbed his shoulders as his body shuddered.
"It's okay," I murmured. He moaned and reached for a glass, rinsing his mouth.
"Third Godamned time today," he mumbled, shaking me hands off. "Not that you'd all know 'cause you're at work." Pony stomped angrily out of the bathroom toward our bedroom. I followed.
"I'm sorry," I said miserably. "It's just that..."
"I know," my brother sighed, collapsing across our bed. He was awfully pale; he hadn't slept well in the hospital and he'd had his famous nightmare again last night. "It's because I can't have cigarettes," he mumbled. "I didn't realize how badly I need them."
I nodded. "Did you eat something?"
"No."
"Do you want something?"
"No."
"You oughta keep your strength up."
My brother sighed and curled up on the bed. "I'm tired."
"I bet."
"Sorry I..."
"Don't. It's not important," I jumped before he could finish his apology. "Scoot over," I added. He crawled to his side of the bed and I stretched out beside him, throwing an arm around his shoulders.
I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, but my mind was whirring with too many thoughts. Pony pressed his back against my chest; his breathing eased and deepened. But as hard as I tried to relax to the sound of his breathing, I couldn't. So I lay there and watched him sleep, his body so close to mind that he'd rock slightly with the rise and fall of my chest.
You can't be sick, I thought, you can't be. And you absolutely can not die.
What would I do without you?
The sad thing was, Pony never realized how important he was to Darry and I. He thought we just put up with him-even me. He thought all he did was cause us grief or make us worry; he completely forgot all the good times he'd given us, all the times he'd made me laugh, all the times he'd listened to my problems or my thoughts. He'd been the first person I'd ever told about being in love with Sandy.
Sandy.
I'd forgotten about her. She wasn't nearly as important now that Pony was sick. Really, really sick; so sick that he might die. And he sees this as a huge inconvenience to us.
My brother stirred and whimpered beside me.
"You all right?" I murmured, and he started and turned toward me.
"I thought you were sleepin'."
"Nah."
"I didn't wake you, did I?"
"Nope. I was just thinking."
"Oh," Pony mumbled, turning away from me. He was trembling, almost as violently as he when he'd awake screaming or sweating in the middle of the night, calming down only with my arms tight around him.
"You okay, kid?"
"I'm all right," Pony whispered.
I ruffled his hair with my free hand. "It's gonna be all right, kiddo."
Pony was really shaking now. I pulled him tighter. He mumbled something I couldn't understand.
"Huh?"
My brother closed his eyes tight. "I just get scared sometimes.and not having cigarettes doesn't help." I pulled him around so he faced me. He pressed his face against my shoulder. And I did something I'd never had the courage to do before: I told him I loved him.
And we both slept.
"Ponyboy?" I called to the quiet house. Darry hadn't wanted to leave him alone, but we couldn't afford to take off, with the bills we owed and were going to owe.
I heard violent coughing coming from the bathroom and rushed to throw open the door. My brother was bent over the sink, spitting out blood. I rubbed his shoulders as his body shuddered.
"It's okay," I murmured. He moaned and reached for a glass, rinsing his mouth.
"Third Godamned time today," he mumbled, shaking me hands off. "Not that you'd all know 'cause you're at work." Pony stomped angrily out of the bathroom toward our bedroom. I followed.
"I'm sorry," I said miserably. "It's just that..."
"I know," my brother sighed, collapsing across our bed. He was awfully pale; he hadn't slept well in the hospital and he'd had his famous nightmare again last night. "It's because I can't have cigarettes," he mumbled. "I didn't realize how badly I need them."
I nodded. "Did you eat something?"
"No."
"Do you want something?"
"No."
"You oughta keep your strength up."
My brother sighed and curled up on the bed. "I'm tired."
"I bet."
"Sorry I..."
"Don't. It's not important," I jumped before he could finish his apology. "Scoot over," I added. He crawled to his side of the bed and I stretched out beside him, throwing an arm around his shoulders.
I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, but my mind was whirring with too many thoughts. Pony pressed his back against my chest; his breathing eased and deepened. But as hard as I tried to relax to the sound of his breathing, I couldn't. So I lay there and watched him sleep, his body so close to mind that he'd rock slightly with the rise and fall of my chest.
You can't be sick, I thought, you can't be. And you absolutely can not die.
What would I do without you?
The sad thing was, Pony never realized how important he was to Darry and I. He thought we just put up with him-even me. He thought all he did was cause us grief or make us worry; he completely forgot all the good times he'd given us, all the times he'd made me laugh, all the times he'd listened to my problems or my thoughts. He'd been the first person I'd ever told about being in love with Sandy.
Sandy.
I'd forgotten about her. She wasn't nearly as important now that Pony was sick. Really, really sick; so sick that he might die. And he sees this as a huge inconvenience to us.
My brother stirred and whimpered beside me.
"You all right?" I murmured, and he started and turned toward me.
"I thought you were sleepin'."
"Nah."
"I didn't wake you, did I?"
"Nope. I was just thinking."
"Oh," Pony mumbled, turning away from me. He was trembling, almost as violently as he when he'd awake screaming or sweating in the middle of the night, calming down only with my arms tight around him.
"You okay, kid?"
"I'm all right," Pony whispered.
I ruffled his hair with my free hand. "It's gonna be all right, kiddo."
Pony was really shaking now. I pulled him tighter. He mumbled something I couldn't understand.
"Huh?"
My brother closed his eyes tight. "I just get scared sometimes.and not having cigarettes doesn't help." I pulled him around so he faced me. He pressed his face against my shoulder. And I did something I'd never had the courage to do before: I told him I loved him.
And we both slept.