Chapter 14 (thanks for the reviews. Keep sending!)
"Where were you on the night of January 24th, 1935?" Darry and me are cleaning the house while Two-bit and Steve are SUPPOSED to be helping us prepare for some of the questions the social worker could ask.
Darry gives Two-bit a look. "In my mother's womb. Come on, Two-bit, this is serious."
Two-bit grins. "How do you know they won't ask that? They COULD ask that!"
Steve must not think this is as funny as everyone else does. He doesn't even smile. "Two-bit, shut-up! Ok, they'll probably ask about what happened last year, you know, about Dallas and Johnny. You should consider that."
Sodapop, who's raiding the refrigerator instead of helping, calls out, "Yeah, I've been thinking that over. We could just tell them what actually happened, and show them the papers from the trial. Technically, the court says we're innocent. I hope that that fact is enough to convince them."
Immediately, Darry starts digging through files, trying to find the court papers. "Maybe they'll ask about your grades, Pony, and they've been dropping pretty quick lately."
I must actually be an idiot and didn't know it by the way Steve is looking at me. "Yeh, well, that's 'cause of the drugs, and they'll already know about them so it really shouldn't make any difference. Two-bit, can you think of anything they might ask?"
I don't want to hear Steve's comments anymore, and I figure even Two-bit's sarcasm could help me calm down more than Steve's negative comments.
"Well, hmmm, what about checking Darry and Soda's background? A whole lot of kids are addicts, even if they're from soc families. They don't just take kids away from their parents because of drugs, or else hardly anyone would have a kid. They check the parents out first. They'll probably ask a whole mess of questions about Darry, and maybe some on Soda."
Darry has done a whole lot for me and Sodapop, so they'd have to take note of that. And Sodapop, well, he's quit school, but he's also working to support me.
I was feeling a whole lot better about the whole situation until Steve got into it again. "Hey, Soda, isn't your birthday on Saturday? As in, your 18th birthday? Then you'll be a legal adult! No problem!"
Problem. I'd be all alone, all alone waiting for some stranger to come take pity on me and adopt me, which would probably never happen. Great. Just terrific.
As if reading my mind, Darry screams, "Steve, I'm not worried about Sodapop, I'm worried about Ponyboy! He's the one who's being threatened here, not you, not me, not Sodapop. P-O-N-Y-B-O-Y, Ponyboy!!!"
No one says anything for a long time, because after Darry finishes his tantrum, his eyes fill with tears that he wasn't able to fight off. And then, WHAT LUCK! The door-bell rang.
And outside was the social worker.
"Where were you on the night of January 24th, 1935?" Darry and me are cleaning the house while Two-bit and Steve are SUPPOSED to be helping us prepare for some of the questions the social worker could ask.
Darry gives Two-bit a look. "In my mother's womb. Come on, Two-bit, this is serious."
Two-bit grins. "How do you know they won't ask that? They COULD ask that!"
Steve must not think this is as funny as everyone else does. He doesn't even smile. "Two-bit, shut-up! Ok, they'll probably ask about what happened last year, you know, about Dallas and Johnny. You should consider that."
Sodapop, who's raiding the refrigerator instead of helping, calls out, "Yeah, I've been thinking that over. We could just tell them what actually happened, and show them the papers from the trial. Technically, the court says we're innocent. I hope that that fact is enough to convince them."
Immediately, Darry starts digging through files, trying to find the court papers. "Maybe they'll ask about your grades, Pony, and they've been dropping pretty quick lately."
I must actually be an idiot and didn't know it by the way Steve is looking at me. "Yeh, well, that's 'cause of the drugs, and they'll already know about them so it really shouldn't make any difference. Two-bit, can you think of anything they might ask?"
I don't want to hear Steve's comments anymore, and I figure even Two-bit's sarcasm could help me calm down more than Steve's negative comments.
"Well, hmmm, what about checking Darry and Soda's background? A whole lot of kids are addicts, even if they're from soc families. They don't just take kids away from their parents because of drugs, or else hardly anyone would have a kid. They check the parents out first. They'll probably ask a whole mess of questions about Darry, and maybe some on Soda."
Darry has done a whole lot for me and Sodapop, so they'd have to take note of that. And Sodapop, well, he's quit school, but he's also working to support me.
I was feeling a whole lot better about the whole situation until Steve got into it again. "Hey, Soda, isn't your birthday on Saturday? As in, your 18th birthday? Then you'll be a legal adult! No problem!"
Problem. I'd be all alone, all alone waiting for some stranger to come take pity on me and adopt me, which would probably never happen. Great. Just terrific.
As if reading my mind, Darry screams, "Steve, I'm not worried about Sodapop, I'm worried about Ponyboy! He's the one who's being threatened here, not you, not me, not Sodapop. P-O-N-Y-B-O-Y, Ponyboy!!!"
No one says anything for a long time, because after Darry finishes his tantrum, his eyes fill with tears that he wasn't able to fight off. And then, WHAT LUCK! The door-bell rang.
And outside was the social worker.