Ponyboy
I found myself panting, sweat covering me, and Soda holding me tight.
"Shh. . . shh." He was saying.
"What's happening?" I said, struggling to calm my beating heart. He clamped his hand over my mouth, looking around.
"Shh. There's two other kids in here, and we'll have some question to answer if they wake up." He said, gently. "You just had a nightmare." I slowly let my gaze lift from him to around the room. Somehow I was on the bottom bunk, and Soda was kneeling on the floor. I shuddered. It was cold. "Calm down Pony. I'm here." He said, hugging me tight again. I let myself breath again, deep as I could. I heard someone out in the hall. Gosh, had I been screaming? I asked Soda.
He nodded solemnly, grabbing a tissue from a box on the desk, wiping my face. I felt my own tears. I had been crying.
"Oh glory, I totally fell apart, huh?" I whispered. He ignored me, just looked at me, carefully pushing my hair from my face and pressing the ball of his palm on my forehead. He sighed, pushing me so I was laying down.
"Go to sleep, Pony." He said quickly. I started to protest. He clamped his hand back over my mouth and pulled the quilts up so they replaced his hand. "Now." He stroked my hair back, then looked out the window, sitting on the floor beside the bed.
"So-" I started.
"Sleep." He said, this time stern.
"Ponyboy?" A voice asked. I opened my eyes, feeling the weight of Soda's hand on my stomach, and sun light was all over the room. "Ponyboy?" I turned to the voice. It was the woman. I sat up quickly, surprising Soda, who's head was laying on my shoulder without me realizing. I nearly fell on top of him. She smiled. "Sorry to startle you. You need to get ready for school."
"Oh. . ." I said, looking at the wall clock and meekly climbing to my feet. Soda yawned, getting up with me.
"Well, get dressed and come down and eat breakfast, and you'll meet the other kids, okay?" She looked at my brother. "You can go back to sleep if you'd like."
She left, closing the door.
I sat down on the floor, pulling out my suitcase, straining myself to lift it onto the mattress. The two weeks in the hospital knocked all the strength outta me. Soda did the same, quickly dressing, still half asleep. I dressed, dressing in jeans, a pair of Soda's hand-me-downs that was still a little too long for me, and a sweatshirt, I think it was originally Darry's. I started looking for my comb. I didn't pack anything, I haven't even been home in ages. I yearned for my own bed and my own ceiling, and my own brother.
"Glory." Soda took a look at me. "You've lost a lotta weight, bud."
"I know." I said. None of my clothes fit me right. "D'ya got a comb?"
"Here." He tossed me one, pulling on his socks. He was still looking at me funny. "You feelin' okay, Ponyboy?"
"Yea." I said. "Just a little spooked. . . ya know. . . new place." He nodded, smiling slightly. "When do we get to talk to Darry?" He frowned.
"I'll call him when you get home from school. I don't want to when you're not here. Darry's gonna wanna talk to you." He frowned. "Let's go." He pushed me toward the door.
We went downstairs, silently walking into the kitchen. There was four of five kids at the table, and a man and the woman. The two of us kinda froze at the bottom of the stairs, unsure of what to do next. There was three girls, on Soda's age, one seven or eight, another two-ish. There was two boys, one twelve-ish, the other four-ish. They stared at us.
The woman noticed us. She smiled warmly, waving us over to the table. We sat side by side on the bench, and the woman sat plates in front of us. Eggs and Ham. I wasn't hungry, I realized. I was nauseous.
"Boys', this is Clarrissa," The older girl. "Madeline," The next oldest girl, " and Sally." The baby, "Clark," The younger boy, "and Thomas." The twelve-ish boy. "Kids, this is Soda and Ponyboy Curtis." The girls started giggling, and the older boy just stared. Our names are always conversation starters.
"Ponyboy?" Clarrissa asked. "That's weird." I felt my ears flush. She was pretty, with long blond hair and blue eyes. Soda scowled, silently. "No offense or anything."
"Clarrissa, Pony's going to be in you're grade. Maybe you'll have some classes together." Mrs. Lya said, trying to get conversation going.
"You're in eleventh grade?" She asked. I nodded. "You look too young."
"I skipped some grades." I said, still keeping my head low.
"How old are you?" She asked, I felt a foot nudge me. I looked up. She was looking me in the eyes.
"Um. . . fifteen."
"Fourteen." Soda murmured under his breath. She laughed.
"Is you're real name Ponyboy?" Madeline demanded.
"Madeline!" The woman scolded.
"Yea." I nodded. It turned to an awkward quiet. . .
I found myself panting, sweat covering me, and Soda holding me tight.
"Shh. . . shh." He was saying.
"What's happening?" I said, struggling to calm my beating heart. He clamped his hand over my mouth, looking around.
"Shh. There's two other kids in here, and we'll have some question to answer if they wake up." He said, gently. "You just had a nightmare." I slowly let my gaze lift from him to around the room. Somehow I was on the bottom bunk, and Soda was kneeling on the floor. I shuddered. It was cold. "Calm down Pony. I'm here." He said, hugging me tight again. I let myself breath again, deep as I could. I heard someone out in the hall. Gosh, had I been screaming? I asked Soda.
He nodded solemnly, grabbing a tissue from a box on the desk, wiping my face. I felt my own tears. I had been crying.
"Oh glory, I totally fell apart, huh?" I whispered. He ignored me, just looked at me, carefully pushing my hair from my face and pressing the ball of his palm on my forehead. He sighed, pushing me so I was laying down.
"Go to sleep, Pony." He said quickly. I started to protest. He clamped his hand back over my mouth and pulled the quilts up so they replaced his hand. "Now." He stroked my hair back, then looked out the window, sitting on the floor beside the bed.
"So-" I started.
"Sleep." He said, this time stern.
"Ponyboy?" A voice asked. I opened my eyes, feeling the weight of Soda's hand on my stomach, and sun light was all over the room. "Ponyboy?" I turned to the voice. It was the woman. I sat up quickly, surprising Soda, who's head was laying on my shoulder without me realizing. I nearly fell on top of him. She smiled. "Sorry to startle you. You need to get ready for school."
"Oh. . ." I said, looking at the wall clock and meekly climbing to my feet. Soda yawned, getting up with me.
"Well, get dressed and come down and eat breakfast, and you'll meet the other kids, okay?" She looked at my brother. "You can go back to sleep if you'd like."
She left, closing the door.
I sat down on the floor, pulling out my suitcase, straining myself to lift it onto the mattress. The two weeks in the hospital knocked all the strength outta me. Soda did the same, quickly dressing, still half asleep. I dressed, dressing in jeans, a pair of Soda's hand-me-downs that was still a little too long for me, and a sweatshirt, I think it was originally Darry's. I started looking for my comb. I didn't pack anything, I haven't even been home in ages. I yearned for my own bed and my own ceiling, and my own brother.
"Glory." Soda took a look at me. "You've lost a lotta weight, bud."
"I know." I said. None of my clothes fit me right. "D'ya got a comb?"
"Here." He tossed me one, pulling on his socks. He was still looking at me funny. "You feelin' okay, Ponyboy?"
"Yea." I said. "Just a little spooked. . . ya know. . . new place." He nodded, smiling slightly. "When do we get to talk to Darry?" He frowned.
"I'll call him when you get home from school. I don't want to when you're not here. Darry's gonna wanna talk to you." He frowned. "Let's go." He pushed me toward the door.
We went downstairs, silently walking into the kitchen. There was four of five kids at the table, and a man and the woman. The two of us kinda froze at the bottom of the stairs, unsure of what to do next. There was three girls, on Soda's age, one seven or eight, another two-ish. There was two boys, one twelve-ish, the other four-ish. They stared at us.
The woman noticed us. She smiled warmly, waving us over to the table. We sat side by side on the bench, and the woman sat plates in front of us. Eggs and Ham. I wasn't hungry, I realized. I was nauseous.
"Boys', this is Clarrissa," The older girl. "Madeline," The next oldest girl, " and Sally." The baby, "Clark," The younger boy, "and Thomas." The twelve-ish boy. "Kids, this is Soda and Ponyboy Curtis." The girls started giggling, and the older boy just stared. Our names are always conversation starters.
"Ponyboy?" Clarrissa asked. "That's weird." I felt my ears flush. She was pretty, with long blond hair and blue eyes. Soda scowled, silently. "No offense or anything."
"Clarrissa, Pony's going to be in you're grade. Maybe you'll have some classes together." Mrs. Lya said, trying to get conversation going.
"You're in eleventh grade?" She asked. I nodded. "You look too young."
"I skipped some grades." I said, still keeping my head low.
"How old are you?" She asked, I felt a foot nudge me. I looked up. She was looking me in the eyes.
"Um. . . fifteen."
"Fourteen." Soda murmured under his breath. She laughed.
"Is you're real name Ponyboy?" Madeline demanded.
"Madeline!" The woman scolded.
"Yea." I nodded. It turned to an awkward quiet. . .