Darry POV - After Three Days
I felt incredibly awkward over the next couple of days. I felt like it was impossible to speak to Steve and Two-Bit. I only really felt like myself at work, where I could blissfully procrastinate my personal life. But that Wednesday, almost a half-week since Pony and Soda left, Steve and Two-Bit came over after school. I had a vague idea that Steve should be at work, but logic wasn't present at all anymore, so I didn't mention it. I greeted them wordlessly and sat down in the kitchen. They followed suit, and then Steve spoke.
"What have you done to get Soda and Pony back?" he asked imposingly.
"Well, sir Inquisitor, I haven't exactly been sitting around on my ass for the past three days," I said truthfully. "I called a lawyer, and told him of my case. I got his prices, cleared everything on my end of the bargain. I learned some of the procedures. If he can sort out all the red tape and get us a day for the trial, all we have to do is testify."
I meant to say I need to testify, not we. This is my problem, not theirs. Why do I always hurt others with my problems? Then Two-Bit spoke up.
"Good going, Darry! Dealing with squarish adults has never been any of our strong points. Wonder what I'll say in court." I hated myself at that point. Easy-going Two-Bit shouldn't need to worry about testifying in a child custody case.
"Hey, Dar, nice job. You speak to Soda or Pony yet?" asked Steve.
"Oh, yeah, I called each of them once. Got a letter from yesterday." I then wrote down Soda's phone number, knowing Steve would want it. I also pulled Soda's letter from my pocket (I hadn't stopped carrying it since I got it) and all three of us read it together.
Dear Darry, New Jersey isn't too bad. It's not home though. I live with Mrs. Lavinia Lyte, a tiny old lady, and Buster, a bulldog almost her size. It's too sad and quiet here. Please get us back. Mrs. Lyte hates that I'm a dropout. I don't think I'll fit in here. Well, wish me luck!
~Sodapop
I had read it several times and at each reading I'm impacted more. Steve and Two-Bit were quiet. Then, I heard a voice call, "Darry." It sounded like Soda. Then it happened again. This time it sounded like Pony. Or maybe Soda again. Maybe the first one was the one that sounded like Pony. When it happened a third time, I resolved that Steve had said it.
"What?!" I replied, a little agitated.
Two-Bit and Steve both stared at me.
"I didn't say nuthin'" said Two-Bit.
"Right." I responded weakly. "You two leave, and try to decide on stuff to say for your testimonies. I'll call my lawyer again to see what should be said and done for our case."
Steve glanced back at me on the way out, but Two-Bit was already muttering ideas to himself. He turned around. "Hey, how about mentioning that - "
"Come back after I've asked the lawyer about this, okay?" I begged.
"Sure thing." As they left, I went to the phone, but something stopped me. I then put on my jacket (For fashion, not weather reasons.) and headed out the door.
I felt incredibly awkward over the next couple of days. I felt like it was impossible to speak to Steve and Two-Bit. I only really felt like myself at work, where I could blissfully procrastinate my personal life. But that Wednesday, almost a half-week since Pony and Soda left, Steve and Two-Bit came over after school. I had a vague idea that Steve should be at work, but logic wasn't present at all anymore, so I didn't mention it. I greeted them wordlessly and sat down in the kitchen. They followed suit, and then Steve spoke.
"What have you done to get Soda and Pony back?" he asked imposingly.
"Well, sir Inquisitor, I haven't exactly been sitting around on my ass for the past three days," I said truthfully. "I called a lawyer, and told him of my case. I got his prices, cleared everything on my end of the bargain. I learned some of the procedures. If he can sort out all the red tape and get us a day for the trial, all we have to do is testify."
I meant to say I need to testify, not we. This is my problem, not theirs. Why do I always hurt others with my problems? Then Two-Bit spoke up.
"Good going, Darry! Dealing with squarish adults has never been any of our strong points. Wonder what I'll say in court." I hated myself at that point. Easy-going Two-Bit shouldn't need to worry about testifying in a child custody case.
"Hey, Dar, nice job. You speak to Soda or Pony yet?" asked Steve.
"Oh, yeah, I called each of them once. Got a letter from yesterday." I then wrote down Soda's phone number, knowing Steve would want it. I also pulled Soda's letter from my pocket (I hadn't stopped carrying it since I got it) and all three of us read it together.
Dear Darry, New Jersey isn't too bad. It's not home though. I live with Mrs. Lavinia Lyte, a tiny old lady, and Buster, a bulldog almost her size. It's too sad and quiet here. Please get us back. Mrs. Lyte hates that I'm a dropout. I don't think I'll fit in here. Well, wish me luck!
~Sodapop
I had read it several times and at each reading I'm impacted more. Steve and Two-Bit were quiet. Then, I heard a voice call, "Darry." It sounded like Soda. Then it happened again. This time it sounded like Pony. Or maybe Soda again. Maybe the first one was the one that sounded like Pony. When it happened a third time, I resolved that Steve had said it.
"What?!" I replied, a little agitated.
Two-Bit and Steve both stared at me.
"I didn't say nuthin'" said Two-Bit.
"Right." I responded weakly. "You two leave, and try to decide on stuff to say for your testimonies. I'll call my lawyer again to see what should be said and done for our case."
Steve glanced back at me on the way out, but Two-Bit was already muttering ideas to himself. He turned around. "Hey, how about mentioning that - "
"Come back after I've asked the lawyer about this, okay?" I begged.
"Sure thing." As they left, I went to the phone, but something stopped me. I then put on my jacket (For fashion, not weather reasons.) and headed out the door.