Darry.
Friday. Friday's are marvelous things in this house. I don't have to get up in the morning. Soda doesn't have to get up in the morning. And Ponyboy doesn't have to be left alone most the day.
I was surprised to find Soda still awake when I came home around midnight. He was half sitting up on their bed, rubbing Pon's back like he does to me when I can't sleep. He seemed exhausted himself. He didn't notice me for a long while, till Pony was finally asleep. He looked at me, his eyes lively as ever, but with a darkness in them.
We both sighed.
I went back out to the living room, laying down on the couch. I didn't know what was happening to us. We used to be so close. We're extremely close physically, but Ponyboy's mind is like a safe these days. He used to be so into his emotions. SO into them I never understood anything about him. He would be like a tiger at a zoo - - amazingly beautiful and simple, yet more complex then any normal being.
I poured myself a cup of coffee, and took a few aspirins.
I couldn't drop that thought about my littlest brother. He was changing at a remarkable rate. Faster then he did after Johnny and Dally's death, after Windrixville. The scenario was so familiar, but I couldn't remember who it was this happened too before. And how they coped with it.
I sat on the couch for most of the night, watching the sun start to peak.
I used to watch sunsets a lot. All the time. Something about them fascinated me.
Then it came to me in a gold realization.
The person I was thinking of was me.
After Mom and Dad's death, I just coped. I didn't even cried. I coped because I had to be strong for Soda and Ponyboy. I had to keep them fed, keep them safe, keep them with me.
I realized Pony thought he had to be strong for us. Not really strong, but make him appear better. But he wasn't going to get better till someone talked to him.
I paused, sighing. I was never talked to and I'm okay. Would Pony be okay?
No. No he wouldn't, because he was different then me. Not weaker, but just different. He's always been different. Drawing and writing instead of football and fighting. Quiet, shy and small, instead of loud, confident and large. Not a follower, but certainly not a leader. He was just. . . just. . . Just Ponyboy.
I sighed, feeling the tenseness leave my muscles for the first time in a long while. I left my head fall back against a pillow. It smelled like smoke and sweat, but I didn't care.
I was exhausted.
I was so exhausted I couldn't sleep for the life of me.
But somehow, I must have. Because when I woke up, Soda was at the stove cooking. Pony was sitting on the counter, watching. Both were clad in just jeans. My youngest brother was still half asleep, resting on the counter, while Soda was dancing around and grabbing stuff. He was making chocolate cake.
We haven't had chocolate cake in a long time.
I didn't really care if he put too much sugar in the frosting this time.
I needed some caffeine.
Friday. Friday's are marvelous things in this house. I don't have to get up in the morning. Soda doesn't have to get up in the morning. And Ponyboy doesn't have to be left alone most the day.
I was surprised to find Soda still awake when I came home around midnight. He was half sitting up on their bed, rubbing Pon's back like he does to me when I can't sleep. He seemed exhausted himself. He didn't notice me for a long while, till Pony was finally asleep. He looked at me, his eyes lively as ever, but with a darkness in them.
We both sighed.
I went back out to the living room, laying down on the couch. I didn't know what was happening to us. We used to be so close. We're extremely close physically, but Ponyboy's mind is like a safe these days. He used to be so into his emotions. SO into them I never understood anything about him. He would be like a tiger at a zoo - - amazingly beautiful and simple, yet more complex then any normal being.
I poured myself a cup of coffee, and took a few aspirins.
I couldn't drop that thought about my littlest brother. He was changing at a remarkable rate. Faster then he did after Johnny and Dally's death, after Windrixville. The scenario was so familiar, but I couldn't remember who it was this happened too before. And how they coped with it.
I sat on the couch for most of the night, watching the sun start to peak.
I used to watch sunsets a lot. All the time. Something about them fascinated me.
Then it came to me in a gold realization.
The person I was thinking of was me.
After Mom and Dad's death, I just coped. I didn't even cried. I coped because I had to be strong for Soda and Ponyboy. I had to keep them fed, keep them safe, keep them with me.
I realized Pony thought he had to be strong for us. Not really strong, but make him appear better. But he wasn't going to get better till someone talked to him.
I paused, sighing. I was never talked to and I'm okay. Would Pony be okay?
No. No he wouldn't, because he was different then me. Not weaker, but just different. He's always been different. Drawing and writing instead of football and fighting. Quiet, shy and small, instead of loud, confident and large. Not a follower, but certainly not a leader. He was just. . . just. . . Just Ponyboy.
I sighed, feeling the tenseness leave my muscles for the first time in a long while. I left my head fall back against a pillow. It smelled like smoke and sweat, but I didn't care.
I was exhausted.
I was so exhausted I couldn't sleep for the life of me.
But somehow, I must have. Because when I woke up, Soda was at the stove cooking. Pony was sitting on the counter, watching. Both were clad in just jeans. My youngest brother was still half asleep, resting on the counter, while Soda was dancing around and grabbing stuff. He was making chocolate cake.
We haven't had chocolate cake in a long time.
I didn't really care if he put too much sugar in the frosting this time.
I needed some caffeine.