The Outsiders © S.E. Hinton. This story is non-profit.
All notes/disclaimers in Chapter 1.

A/N: I'm updating quickly because I have the story written and finished, and it's at this point that I just want to get it out there so I can stop thinking about it. LOL! Read on, and don't be too angry for the angst. I heart the angst, and trust me, it won't end up so bad.





Not Today
Chapter 11: Disaster

People coming into my house in the middle of the night usually doesn't phase me; I leave the door open for a reason. They're usually not quiet about it neither, stumbling in and knocking things over and falling with a thud onto the couch (or the floor if they miss). It's rare that I don't wake up and hear it, and although I don't get up, I play a game by trying to guess who it is and then I see if I'm right in the morning.

Nobody ever comes into my room unless it's one of my brothers and I'm sleeping in. Which I rarely do. Even on my days off I'm usually the first one up. I was only half-awake when I heard my door creak open, and a dim light from the hallway cast a yellow rectangle on the floor in front of the bed.

"Pony?"

I heard a small sniff and the mattress dip and then it was Jules' hand reaching out for me. I sat up quickly. "Jules? What're you doing here? You're gonna wake up Pony!"

I didn't mean to sound like that but gosh, it honestly was the first thing that came to mind. Having a woman in my room, I couldn't even imagine how quickly the state would take Pony away if they thought I was doing those sorts of things with women while he was under the same roof. One time, Two-Bit asked me how I ever planned to get laid, and when I said I didn't, I thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head.

She put her hand on my chest and seemed to be taking deep breaths. I started to wonder if she'd run all the way over. "What's wrong?"

Silence, just her breathing. I felt really, really out of it. The way she sounded, I thought she might cry or she already had been or both, and I was getting kinda scared. "Jules. Tell me what happened."

"Darry, my dad died."

Her voice sounded hollow when she said it. Emotionless. "I need milk at the grocery store." "Gas is twenty cents a gallon." "Darry, my dad died."

Jesus.

I swallowed hard, about to say something really profound like "huh?" or "oh," but then she broke. Like a wave just washed over her or something and she started crying real hard. I pulled her closer and she just buried her face into my chest and cried. I didn't have a shirt on, and I could feel the wetness of her tears. She cried hard, bawling, like Pony and Soda had at mom and dad's funeral. I felt the familiar hurt in my heart creeping back. I ran my hand over her back and tightened my arms around her, sorta rocking her back and forth.

I didn't say things like, "It's gonna be okay," or "Shh, don't cry," because those kinds of things are not only useless to someone who has completely lost it, but they can sound condescending, too. I just pressed my face into the top of her head, breathed in the smell of her shampoo and held her.

My door was already open, and Pony's shadow fell through the light coming in from the hallway. He was rubbing his eyes. "Dar?"

"It's okay, Pony," I whispered. "Go back to sleep."

Too much to hope for that he'd do just that.

"What's going on? Is that Jules?"

"Yeah." I made my voice a little louder, and a little firmer. "I need you to go back to sleep."

He's as stubborn as the rest of us. He stepped further into the room, and I could tell he was more alert now. That was not a good sign. Pony was notorious for waking up in the middle of the night and not going back to sleep because he couldn't shut his mind off. He has a real active imagination. Lucky for me, when Soda slept he was dead to the world. I'd only have to deal with one brother until morning.

"Is she okay?"

"No, Pony! I got it under control! Go to bed!"

I didn't feel too hot about yelling at him. My temper's real bad when I'm stressed; sometimes worse than when I'm mad. He turned around and started walking back to his room. I probably coulda let him go, he'd have understood once he figured out what was going on, but I called him back anyway.

"Ponyboy."

Jules was still bawling, but her sobs were getting quieter.

"Get a box of tissues and a glass of water, wouldja?" I asked as my brother turned around.

He nodded, and I think he was happy to help. He came back with them and stood quietly by the bed. Now I really wanted him to go back to sleep, but I couldn't figure how to tell him without hurting his feelings again.

"Sorry for yelling," I said instead, and his head just dipped in acknowledgement. He doesn't really like apologies any more than I do, but I've been trying real hard to keep up my end of the bargain and give one when I know he deserves it. He always apologizes when I'm hollering for a good reason, so I figure I gotta apologize when I'm just hollering because I'm sore about something.

"What happened?"

He asked in a whisper, but he really didn't need to. There was no danger of waking up Soda, that was for sure. Jules was just sorta whimpering now, and her breath was coming real fast. Maybe she was gonna hyperventilate.

"Her dad died," I said, and her breath hitched but she didn't freak out.

Pony was quiet, but you could tell in his expression that he was real sorry he'd asked. I pulled Jules a little bit away from me; I had to force her but she finally let up a little where she was holding me around the middle. Her face was red and puffy and the tears that weren't streaked down my chest were streaked down her cheeks.

"Are you gonna hyperventilate on me?"

She shook her head no, and Pony handed me the glass of water. I took it, and handed it to Jules. Then I mouthed to Pony, "Go. To. Bed."

He reached out and touched Jules on the back of the head, then turned around and headed back down the hall.

I set the box of tissues between us. She started to wipe her eyes and I used a bunch to mop up my chest. It was the most unsexy way I could think of to have Jules in my bed. Just the way my luck went, I supposed.

"Darry, I'm sorry," she croaked out, and it sounded like she was gonna start crying again. Her lip was trembling.

"Shh," I soothed, pushing her hair off her face. She needed a hair tie. I grabbed a bandana that I had in a drawer near my bed and tied her hair back with that. She looked a little more pulled together like that. "What happened?"

She shook her head and at first I thought she was gonna say she didn't know and start crying again. But she took another swallow of water and exhaled hard. "A car accident," she said. I flashed back to the police officers that had shown up at my door a year ago. "An accident," they said. "Your parents died at the scene."

I took her back into my arms, and maybe it was as much for my comfort as it was for hers. "Baby, I'm sorry." She cried again but it was less desperate this time, and I didn't think she was in danger of hyperventiliating.

When tragedy strikes, it's easier for me to go into 'fix it' mode. I like to think about what I need to do and start doing it. I can't sit around and just think about what happened. Most people aren't like me, and I know that now. Instead of asking, "What do you need me to do," I let her cry. I lay back down, pulling her with me, and pulled the covers over both of us. It was three in the morning. I idly wondered if she'd run over or driven. I couldn't figure which one might be more dangerous. Walking around at this time of night in this neighborhood was never a good idea. Driving in her emotional state might have been worse.

These are the kinds of thoughts I occupy myself with to get through it. So I don't cry, show emotion, weakness. I pulled the bandana out of her hair and ran my fingers through it. I did that over and over again until her breathing slowed and evened out. Her sniffling stopped and she fell asleep with her head on my chest.


At ten past seven, I knew I needed to get my brothers up. Steve would be showing up in the next twenty minutes to collect Soda and I wanted to make sure Jules was left alone. I managed to wiggle out from underneath her, and when she hit the mattress she mumbled something that sounded a lot like my name. I tried not to think about it.

I looked at her for a minute, maybe several, and felt my heart breaking. I hate that helpless feeling. I'd felt that way about Ponyboy when he was mourning Johnny and I honestly couldn't stand that he was hurting and there was nothing I could do to fix it. She looked peaceful, lying there, wrapped up in the blankets like they would shield her from the world. I wished they would. I wished I could.

Grabbing my work clothes, I shut the door firmly behind me and as I turned I saw Ponyboy and Soda both stumbling sleepily from their room. Soda opened his mouth, maybe to yawn, maybe to call the shower first, but I shushed him quickly regardless of what he was about to do. He blinked and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"What're you doing up so late?"

I was usually showered and dressed and in the kitchen making up their breakfasts by now.

"Jules is here," Pony supplied for me, looking at my closed door.

Soda's eyebrows shot up and he was awake instantly, but the gleeful look on his face faded because I glared at him much harder than I'd meant to.

"Don't jump to conclusions, little buddy," I remarked toughly. "Her dad died."

Soda leaned against the wall. "Oh."

"She was a wreck last night," Pony added, looking nervously at me. To me he said, "Is she okay?"

I shrugged. For someone so emotional, he wasn't too smart about emotions. 'No, she ain't okay,' I wanted to say. 'Were you okay the day after mom and dad died?' I didn't say any of that. I bit my tongue real hard to keep from snapping, because I wasn't mad at Pony. I was frustrated and scared and I always get real mean when I'm frustrated and scared.

"She's sleeping," I finally said. The boys looked real sorry, and I'm sure they were, but it wasn't helping the situation any. My mind was screaming at me to move on. Business as usual. Get everyone going so you don't have to think about it! "Look, we gotta get moving," I said, tapping Soda on the shoulder. "Steve'll be here in fifteen minutes, so you get the shower first. Pony, you go second. I think Two-Bit's coming by to walk with you to school." I glanced back at my closed bedroom door. "Keep your traps shut, alright?" I ordered rather than asked them. They nodded obediently and Soda disappeared into the bathroom while Pony went to start the eggs.

I looked down at my hands. Helpless. I hated it. I picked up the phone and called my foreman, telling him I was going to be a little late, maybe not in at all. I never took sick days or vacation, so he was real nice about it, but I still felt guilty as hell. One time I'd even gone into work with a hundred and two degree fever, and got through lunch before anyone noticed anything was wrong and Mr. Taylor sent me home. My mom taught me that you reap what you sow. I always took that to mean the harder you work, the more you get. I wondered why it seemed like I was always comin' up short.

Pony handed me a cup of coffee and I took it to the dining room table along with the newspaper. It was hard to believe not twelve hours ago I was thinking how things were finally coming together. Now my mind was swimming and mostly I was thinking about Jules.

Soda and Pony did their best to hurry up and get ready so that Steve and Two-Bit were hanging around our house as little as possible. There was no way to keep them quiet; even if we had told them Jules was asleep in the other room. I knew first hand that it was physically impossible to keep Two-Bit from talking for more than two or three minutes at a time. When we were younger, we used to time him. His record for keeping quiet was 3 minutes and 47 seconds. He said he even talked in his sleep, and boy howdy did we believe it.

I usually leave the house before Ponyboy and Two-Bit do, so I wasn't used to the silence that surrounded me the moment they were out of the house and far enough down the street that I couldn't hear them yelling anymore. I even heard the ticking of the old grandfather clock that belonged to my mother's grandparents, and I didn't know it even ran anymore. It didn't keep the right time, but it apparently still ticked.

I took a shower and got dressed for work even though I wasn't sure what Jules wanted or needed me to do. I wanted to do anything I could, everything I could, and I couldn't remember feeling that urgent need to protect and shelter someone that wasn't one of my brothers (or Johnny Cade) in a long, long time.

Before I went back into my room to check on Jules, I poured a cup of coffee and added milk to it. She stirred when I walked in. I expected her to be awake. No one could sleep through the racket Two-Bit and Steve make, no matter how abbreviated their visit this morning was. Well, maybe Soda could, but no normal person. Her hair was a mess again and I had to smile at her. She didn't smile back. I sat on the edge of the bed and held out the coffee to her. She shook her head no. I put it on the night table and reached out, and she crawled into my arms without saying anything.

I thought for a minute she might start crying again, but she only sniffled a little and heaved a heavy sigh. Then she was quiet, and I combed my fingers through her hair and out of her face. She let me hold her for a long time before she pulled herself up, climbing onto her knees to look me in the eyes. There was a sadness in her eyes I didn't expect. I don't know why, but it shocked me. It scared me. She was looking at me with eyes that were so different from the eyes I'd come to know, I barely recognized them. Deep pools of sorrow that looked like they might never, ever light up again.

I leaned forward and kissed her forehead and felt her palm press against my cheek. She guided my face downward and I kissed her nose, then her cheek, and finally her lips. Sighing into my mouth, she kissed me with a desperate urgency I wasn't expecting. My mind grew less focused. Everything blurred. Dimly, somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew what was happening and my conscience was screaming at me to stop it. But in the front of my mind, I was aware of her hands and her lips and her body.

"Darry," she whispered after a while, and I felt her hands tugging at my shirt. She managed it halfway up my torso before I had to break away from her. Hearing her voice all broken with sorrow was the wake-up call I needed. I pushed my shirt down and she stared at me.

"Jules, not like this, not now," I said, and I briefly wondered why every decision was so damn difficult to make. I didn't know the right thing to do in a situation like this. How could I? How would anyone?

She opened her mouth to say something and then shut it again. Her eyes filled with tears and a sob choked in her throat. I saw her deflate; like her whole body just folded into itself and she might never sort out again. She crumpled to the bed crying and repeating something over and over that I'm pretty sure was, "God, why me?"

I gathered her to me and tried to hold her again, but she fought against me. She crawled to the other side of the bed, which wasn't far because it ain't a real big bed, and curled herself into a tiny ball. She sniffed.

"Don't touch me."

I swear my heart stopped beating completely.


I had read in one of my psychology books that when someone faces tragedy, they seek intimacy. Something about it being a way to combat the feelings of loss; to lose themselves in something else which puts off the inevitable despair.

I sat there on the bed, rejected and helpless, and just watched her for a real long time. Eventually, her crying stopped, and her breathing started to deepen. Just before she fell asleep, she mumbled, "I'm in love with you, Darry." I didn't say anything back because she didn't sound happy to say it. She sounded miserable.

It was real hard not to feel like I'd just done something unforgivable.

I lay down and tried to sleep, but I knew it'd be impossible. I was already feeling like the scum of the earth so I put both of my feet on the floor and pushed myself out of bed. She shifted when I did, but her breathing stayed regular. She ended up on her stomach with one arm flung above her head, her dark hair spread out at all angles like it had a mind of its own. I wished I could be looking at her asleep in my bed under totally different circumstances. I wished I could feel as happy and carefree as I had just a few nights ago. I wished I hadn't had to say no to her, and I wished I was looking forward to her waking up, going off to make her breakfast in bed or steal a rose out of Mrs. Blake's garden to put on the pillow next to her.

Instead I was escaping. I couldn't lie to myself. I was scared of her tears when she woke up, when she realized that her daddy was still dead. The newspaper was still on the table and my coffee was where I'd left it. It was ice cold now. I tossed it out and brewed another pot. I called my foreman and told him I wasn't coming in at all. He was a cool old guy. He never asked why and just said, "Take as much time as you need, Curtis."

The more time I took, the worse I felt. I drank my coffee on the porch but went in real quick when I saw Steve's mom drive down the street. I didn't want to talk to anyone. The house was still so quiet. It's never quiet. It was like the house knew there had been another death.

Another death. It never ended.

I went back into my bedroom, took off my shirt and crawled back into bed with Jules. I wanted to be there when she woke up; it didn't matter if she was mad at me. This wasn't about me, I knew that. It was about her.

She muttered something I couldn't understand as she burrowed toward me, lifting her legs up and curling almost into a ball before pressing into the arc I'd made with my body. She fit. Again I found myself wishing she was here under totally different circumstances. Except I think it's physically impossible for me to stay in bed all day, even with a woman. So needless to say, I was itchin' after only a few minutes. There was nothing to do but think about how little I could actually help.

I knew Jules was an only child and I knew her father had a sister in Pittsburgh who rarely kept in touch and was always drunk. She didn't have much family and never seemed to mind. I hadn't either, until my folks died. Then you sorta sit around and think, how'd it get this way? Why does everyone else but me have cousins from out of state, aunts who knit, rich uncles, grandmas who smell like macaroni and cheese and grandpas who pull quarters out of your ear?

Jules sighed; I felt her breath warm against my chest. I stroked her hair and put a kiss on the top of her head.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

She startled me. I had honestly thought she was sleeping but her voice didn't sound heavy with sleep. It sounded ragged with too much emotion. Thick, like a drunk person without slurring.

"I took the day off," I said into her hair.

It was quiet for a long time and I thought maybe she'd fallen back asleep. It wasn't very often that I was home in the middle of the day and I idly wondered if Ponyboy ever skipped school and came back. I figured there was more of a chance of Two-Bit doing that, but he'd be bored in a house all alone and unless he wanted to keep the company of Tim Shepard or one of their outfit, there wasn't anyone else to come by. I missed Dally and Johnny something fierce, but there usually ain't time to think about it. Now there was nothing to do but think. Death does that.

"Sorry about earlier," Jules said.

I shook my head quickly. "Don't." I wasn't sure what else to say. I thought maybe I should apologize too, but I couldn't figure out how.

Jules sniffled and moved a little closer to me.

"Are you gonna cry again?"

Boy howdy, what a great thing to say. I can be such a lunkhead sometimes. I was relieved to hear a small, bitter chuckle.

"No. I was thinkin' about it, but no."

She sat up real quick, like she might cry if she didn't. I wanted to get up and give her a cup of coffee, but her eyes were holding me there; I was sorta scared to move.

"I mean, it won't help, will it? This empty feeling I have. The crying won't help?"

If you woulda listened real hard, you woulda heard my heart break right then, I was sure of it. I wanted to hold her but she looked stiff. And honestly, I was scared to try after what happened earlier. I reached out and touched nothing and my hand fell to the mattress between us.

"It might help," I said. But the truth was, it wouldn't. Not really. Maybe for that moment but when you finish crying and you look around, they're still gone. You feel cheated.

She shrugged anyway, she like didn't believe me. Smart girl.

"So what do you have to do?" I asked. "I mean, what's first?" What I really meant was, 'What can I do besides lay here like a helpless fool?' I didn't say that, though.

She shrugged a little. A lock of hair tumbled over her shoulder. "I have to go home to California," she said. She didn't sound mad or sad or anything when she said it. Just a fact. I have to go home to California.

I'd expected "I have a bunch of phone calls to make," or "I have to figure out the funeral," or "Talk to the lawyers," or hell, even "I don't know." I was gonna help her with these things. "I have to go home to California?" Well, I wasn't sure I wanted to help her do that.

Maybe I'd been quiet for a long time, I don't know, because she put a hand on mine and said my name. Real sweet. Then she said, "Please understand."

It was starting to sound bad. Was she going and never coming back? I said, "Of course I understand. Whatever you need, I'm gonna help you."

Except deep down everyone's selfish, I ain't no exception and I didn't want her to leave. I was real proud that I kept myself from saying it out loud. Only now, looking back, maybe I shoulda just been honest.

TBC…

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Reviews for Chapter 10:

To everyone: The character analysis going on here is so amazing, and will serve to make my (and everyone else's) writing better in the future. Thanks so much, guys!

Jess - Glad you liked it, and yes, I grappled with the fact of whether Darry would reveal something like that to Soda. I suppose there's no one else for Darry to confide in, which is really sad.

Jenna - You ain't see nothing yet. LOL Thanks for the review.

Langley & dawndragon - Wow, what reviews. Don't be offended that I put you together, but I just wanted to say the same response to both of you. It made me start thinking a lot about Soda and how/why he goes through life the way he does. I think there are people like Darry and there are people like Soda, and all the Soda's in the world need Darry's, but at the same time all the Darry's in the world need Soda's.

miz jif - Well thank you! I'm incredibly flattered to hear you're going back and reading paragraphs over, since a lot of the time the detail seems like it would only be important to me since I have a clear vision of the story and my characters in my head. That you're that engaged is very encouraging. Thanks!

Tonyboy - You romantic, you! Thanks for chiming in, and I'm glad you're enjoying.

Vincenza - Heh, don't be too disappointed with me after this chapter.

Bandit-Gurl42 - Thanks, you always have such positive things to say!

Megan - Thanks for leaving feedback and I'm glad you're liking it.

Sodapop's#1Gurl - Should I be offended by your question or am I just not understanding it? No, I didn't "borrow" this from anyone, it's straight from my imagination to your computer.

kaz456 - Glad you liked the Darry-Soda interaction. I like Soda and I liked writing it because he and Darry are so different.

Raggedy Anne - It's okay if you don't review every chapter. It's nice to know you're reading and liking it. And no, everything's not peachy keen, now is it? LOL!

Tessie26 - Hey, you were just telling me what would be easier to read, that's not a problem! I'm glad you liked the chapter, and don't kill me for all this angst.

Julie - All good things must end. ((sigh)) Everything seems bad now, but hang in there.

Maddy - Ha ha, I didn't even know SMC was a real place. Well have fun there!

Makado Felton - Glad you liked! Thanks for your review!