(Two-Bit)
"Hey kid," I grinned at Ponyboy, "you're out and about, I see."
The boy smiled up at me from where he was lying on the couch. "Very funny. But I got sick of my room."
"I bet," I tossed my jacket down and dragged an armchair over closer to the sofa. Darry and Soda had gone to work and Cherry couldn't come over until noon, so I was babysitting---although I'd never call it that in front of Pony.
"Mickey's on."
"Y'all got anything to eat?"
"There's some cake in the freezer. Don't try and cook anything."
Soda came bolting out of his room as I stepped into the kitchen. His eyes were redder than I'd seen them in awhile, but he grinned when he saw me.
"Rough night?" I asked under my breath.
He shrugged. "No different."
I glanced toward the livingroom to indicate his younger brother. "Pony alright?"
"As much as he can be. He's not throwing up anymore. Try and get him to eat something, but for God's sake don't cook anything."
"Soda, you ready? We're late!" Darry called, rushing out from his room.
"Yeah, let's go, Steve's walkin' today."
"How come?"
Soda just shrugged, and Darry and I exchanged a knowing glance; I hoped Steve wouldn't be too hard on Soda right now. This was almost as tough on him as it was on Soda.
"Y'all are late!" Pony called from his place on the sofa. Darry grabbed his tool belt and told me he'd call, then hurried out the door. Soda paused and squeezed his younger brother's shoulder; Ponyboy smiled up at him, a heartbreakingly haunted smile that nonetheless Soda warmly returned. And then they were gone.
"You wanna eat something?" I asked Pony.
"No, not now. I ain't hungry." He was tired though; he leaned back and closed his eyes while I hovered there awkwardly.
"Anything I can do?"
"Nah. I'm all right."
I watched him, wishing I could do something, anything, to make this easier, and wishing even more that I had the guts to tell him so. Instead I crossed the room and turned down the volume on the television, then pulled a beer out of the freezer and cracked the top open. Three hours 'till Cherry got there. She'd been keeping the house cleaner than even Mrs. Curtis used to keep it, and Pony really liked talking to her.
"You okay?" Pony's voice floated up. I startled; he was asking ME?
"Shoot, kid, I'm always okay."
"You're awful quiet."
"'Thought you were sleeping."
"Nah," he sighed, rubbing at his eyes.
"You want something?" I repeated.
Pony looked at me funny, and I shifted awkwardly. "I'm just tryin' to help," I mumbled, "I haven't done much of anything, you know?"
"Sure you did," Pony said with a bright grin, one I hadn't seen in awhile, "you made pizza."
"Hey kid," I grinned at Ponyboy, "you're out and about, I see."
The boy smiled up at me from where he was lying on the couch. "Very funny. But I got sick of my room."
"I bet," I tossed my jacket down and dragged an armchair over closer to the sofa. Darry and Soda had gone to work and Cherry couldn't come over until noon, so I was babysitting---although I'd never call it that in front of Pony.
"Mickey's on."
"Y'all got anything to eat?"
"There's some cake in the freezer. Don't try and cook anything."
Soda came bolting out of his room as I stepped into the kitchen. His eyes were redder than I'd seen them in awhile, but he grinned when he saw me.
"Rough night?" I asked under my breath.
He shrugged. "No different."
I glanced toward the livingroom to indicate his younger brother. "Pony alright?"
"As much as he can be. He's not throwing up anymore. Try and get him to eat something, but for God's sake don't cook anything."
"Soda, you ready? We're late!" Darry called, rushing out from his room.
"Yeah, let's go, Steve's walkin' today."
"How come?"
Soda just shrugged, and Darry and I exchanged a knowing glance; I hoped Steve wouldn't be too hard on Soda right now. This was almost as tough on him as it was on Soda.
"Y'all are late!" Pony called from his place on the sofa. Darry grabbed his tool belt and told me he'd call, then hurried out the door. Soda paused and squeezed his younger brother's shoulder; Ponyboy smiled up at him, a heartbreakingly haunted smile that nonetheless Soda warmly returned. And then they were gone.
"You wanna eat something?" I asked Pony.
"No, not now. I ain't hungry." He was tired though; he leaned back and closed his eyes while I hovered there awkwardly.
"Anything I can do?"
"Nah. I'm all right."
I watched him, wishing I could do something, anything, to make this easier, and wishing even more that I had the guts to tell him so. Instead I crossed the room and turned down the volume on the television, then pulled a beer out of the freezer and cracked the top open. Three hours 'till Cherry got there. She'd been keeping the house cleaner than even Mrs. Curtis used to keep it, and Pony really liked talking to her.
"You okay?" Pony's voice floated up. I startled; he was asking ME?
"Shoot, kid, I'm always okay."
"You're awful quiet."
"'Thought you were sleeping."
"Nah," he sighed, rubbing at his eyes.
"You want something?" I repeated.
Pony looked at me funny, and I shifted awkwardly. "I'm just tryin' to help," I mumbled, "I haven't done much of anything, you know?"
"Sure you did," Pony said with a bright grin, one I hadn't seen in awhile, "you made pizza."