Steve
I sighed, looking at my watch. Soda slept on. Third day straight, the first two he was delirious. He turned away from the sun shining through the window shade, burrowing his head into his pillow with a low groan. He then faced up, feeling around the side of the double bed. His hair was shortened, the ends were singed beyond saving.
"Pony?" He murmured, his voice hoarse and weak and wild. "Pony?!"
"Shhhh." I said. "He's not here. He's okay." I told him. His grey eyes shot open. He looked around, bewilderedly.
"Steve? Where am I?" He asked, turning to face me, his eyebrows furrowed. He rubbed his hand on his neck. "My throat hurts."
"Cause of the smoke from the fire." I told him. "We're at that lady. . . um. . " I searched for the name. "Mrs. Lya, I think, her mother's house. The one you were staying at was burnt down. Remember?"
"No." He said, reaching for a glass of water on the table beside the bed. He drunk almost the whole thing, making a face as he swallowed it. "What happened? "
"The fuzz says it's arson. Someone set the fire on purpose." I said, my voice cold. "But don't worry about it. Everyone got out okay, just a few burns and stuff." I continued.
"Steve, where's Ponyboy?" He asked suddenly. I hesitated.
"He's at the hospital."
"Why?!" He asked, his voice squeaking.
"He was in there longer then everyone else, 'member? He was asleep. He inhaled a lot of smoke and burned his leg pretty good." I explained. "Since he was already on the weak side because of what happened before and all, they wanted to watch him and stuff." He looked like he was going to throw up, so I patted his arm. "Don't worry- -Two-bit and Darry are over there with the kid."
He seemed relieved. I wanted to go beat the crap out of someone. I was frustrated as all hell. Nobody know's who'd do it, especially since there is a lot of kids at that joint. And now they have to postpone the hearing even longer because they think Pony's gonna be in the hospital a while. I've saw him yesterday. He was awake, but as if in a daze. His leg's not to bad, it's not going to cripple it or anything, but it's hurting him like hell.
Darry's been going back and fourth every few hours. Mrs. and Mr. Lya has been too, but has to care for the other foster kids. The lawyer's in a tizzy because he had suggested Darry not see either of the boy but refuses to listen. For some reason Shepard and his gang think it was the socs ( I wouldn't put it past them) to pay back for the whole Bob's death deal. I don't know what got that drudged up.
"Oh glory, Steve, this sucks." He whined. I grinned half-heartedly. He couldn't help but be goofy, no matter the situation.
"Ya think?" I asked. I reached over and pulled on a piece of his hair. "Got a trim."
"Huh?"
"Hair got singed." I explained. He looked at the rugged edges.
"Shoot, I think I lost an inch." He said, sounding depressed.
"Still looks tuff." I said with a shrug. "Better then Pony's."
"With that stupid rugged cut of his I could be bald and look better then Pony's." He said indignantly. It was true, Pony's hair was still short, but at least it had outgrown the bleach. "You, you sure he's okay?" He asked, trying not to sound too worried.
"I'm sure." I replied. "Just too much smoke. You'd think with the way he smokes he wouldn't be affected in the slight."
"Yea." He said with a too-tired-laugh. He laid back, yawning. "Glory, I'm tired."
"Then go to sleep."
"Think I'd better." He agreed. "You should go home or something. Don't need to sit there and stare at me."
"Darry'd lick me good If I left. I said I'd stay with you." I said with a shrug. I grabbed a magazine from the nightstand. "I'll keep me-self amused, Sody."
There wasn't a response. He was already dead to the world.
I sighed, looking at my watch. Soda slept on. Third day straight, the first two he was delirious. He turned away from the sun shining through the window shade, burrowing his head into his pillow with a low groan. He then faced up, feeling around the side of the double bed. His hair was shortened, the ends were singed beyond saving.
"Pony?" He murmured, his voice hoarse and weak and wild. "Pony?!"
"Shhhh." I said. "He's not here. He's okay." I told him. His grey eyes shot open. He looked around, bewilderedly.
"Steve? Where am I?" He asked, turning to face me, his eyebrows furrowed. He rubbed his hand on his neck. "My throat hurts."
"Cause of the smoke from the fire." I told him. "We're at that lady. . . um. . " I searched for the name. "Mrs. Lya, I think, her mother's house. The one you were staying at was burnt down. Remember?"
"No." He said, reaching for a glass of water on the table beside the bed. He drunk almost the whole thing, making a face as he swallowed it. "What happened? "
"The fuzz says it's arson. Someone set the fire on purpose." I said, my voice cold. "But don't worry about it. Everyone got out okay, just a few burns and stuff." I continued.
"Steve, where's Ponyboy?" He asked suddenly. I hesitated.
"He's at the hospital."
"Why?!" He asked, his voice squeaking.
"He was in there longer then everyone else, 'member? He was asleep. He inhaled a lot of smoke and burned his leg pretty good." I explained. "Since he was already on the weak side because of what happened before and all, they wanted to watch him and stuff." He looked like he was going to throw up, so I patted his arm. "Don't worry- -Two-bit and Darry are over there with the kid."
He seemed relieved. I wanted to go beat the crap out of someone. I was frustrated as all hell. Nobody know's who'd do it, especially since there is a lot of kids at that joint. And now they have to postpone the hearing even longer because they think Pony's gonna be in the hospital a while. I've saw him yesterday. He was awake, but as if in a daze. His leg's not to bad, it's not going to cripple it or anything, but it's hurting him like hell.
Darry's been going back and fourth every few hours. Mrs. and Mr. Lya has been too, but has to care for the other foster kids. The lawyer's in a tizzy because he had suggested Darry not see either of the boy but refuses to listen. For some reason Shepard and his gang think it was the socs ( I wouldn't put it past them) to pay back for the whole Bob's death deal. I don't know what got that drudged up.
"Oh glory, Steve, this sucks." He whined. I grinned half-heartedly. He couldn't help but be goofy, no matter the situation.
"Ya think?" I asked. I reached over and pulled on a piece of his hair. "Got a trim."
"Huh?"
"Hair got singed." I explained. He looked at the rugged edges.
"Shoot, I think I lost an inch." He said, sounding depressed.
"Still looks tuff." I said with a shrug. "Better then Pony's."
"With that stupid rugged cut of his I could be bald and look better then Pony's." He said indignantly. It was true, Pony's hair was still short, but at least it had outgrown the bleach. "You, you sure he's okay?" He asked, trying not to sound too worried.
"I'm sure." I replied. "Just too much smoke. You'd think with the way he smokes he wouldn't be affected in the slight."
"Yea." He said with a too-tired-laugh. He laid back, yawning. "Glory, I'm tired."
"Then go to sleep."
"Think I'd better." He agreed. "You should go home or something. Don't need to sit there and stare at me."
"Darry'd lick me good If I left. I said I'd stay with you." I said with a shrug. I grabbed a magazine from the nightstand. "I'll keep me-self amused, Sody."
There wasn't a response. He was already dead to the world.