"I'm home!" I called as I entered our warm little house on the east side.

"Hiya, Pony!" Two-bit was on the floor, along with Soda and Steve. They were all playing poker, as usual. Steve nodded to me, as if to acknowledge my presence.

I walked over and sat down onto our old couch. "How have you been, Soda?"

"Fine," he said, not bothering to look up from his hand. I pretended to be satisfied with that answer and took my books into the bedroom. It was Darry's night to make supper, so I was off the hook, except for homework. Sighing, I laid across my bed, and before I knew it I had fallen asleep.

Friday was smooth sailing, and the weekend lived up to most expectations and stereotypes of being fun and relaxing. I hung out with Sarah, played cards with the boys, and even got some running in. Sunday night, I went to church with Sarah again and really enjoyed myself. By Monday, I felt like you should after a good weekend: on top of the world.

The only thing that was less than fun that weekend was when we went to get Soda's stitches out. It was just me and Soda, because Darry had work, and there was no way we were taking Two-bit or Steve. The doc said that his head had healed fine. He also took a look at his ribs, and didn't have anything bad to say about them, either. I was able to let out a sigh of relief, knowing that everything could return to semi-normal now.

Monday morning was one of those bright, November days, where there isn't a cloud in the sky and the sun seems like its bursting to shine. I went to school, Darry and Soda went to work, and everything felt right for once. I had plans to stop home after school (with Sarah), then head to some unknown destination around town.

When Sarah and I got to my house that afternoon, it was empty, as expected. I was considering waiting for Soda to get home before heading out, but Sarah had the bright idea of just walking to DX to see him. I swear she's a brainiac. Sometimes, I don't use my head, but she did, so it worked out pretty well.

"Hey Soda!" I called cheerfully into the garage.

"Well lookee here," he gave us a crooked Soda grin, "How're y'all doing on this fine day?"

"Just fine, Sodapop," Sarah decided to play along with his joking around. "And how are you? Enjoying your work?"

"Don't I always?" Soda laughed to himself and wiped his hands on a rag. "Y'all want some Pepsi? It's just about time for my break."

Of course, I jumped all over the Pepsi, and after a little coaxing, Sarah had some too. It was the perfect kind of day to sit at DX with a bottle of Pepsi and watch the crowds. School had let out an hour ago, so the station was getting busy, full of kids who needed a tune up, or gas, or just wanted to see some action. Of course, the girls were all over Soda. You'd think by the way that they were hanging all over him that they had gone into Soda with drawl in the time he hadn't worked. I just smirked at it and joked around with Sarah.

After a little while, we got bored and decided to take a walk. It was around 4:15, so we still had some time before the sun set. We weren't sure where to go, but as we plodded along an idea came to me.

"Uh, hey, Sarah," I wasn't sure if she'd say yes.

"What? Spit it out."

"Do you think, well…would you mind if we stopped to see Johnny and Dally?"

I couldn't read her face at all. I wasn't sure if she was sad, or had pity, or didn't want to, or if she was okay with it.

"Okay," she said in a laid back fashion. "I think we're headed the right direction, right?"

"No, left." I stated solemnly, hoping she'd get it.

It took her a second, then she hit my arm playfully. "That was probably the corniest you've gotten so far, Ponyboy Curtis."

"You mean I broke my record?" I tried to sound awestruck.

"I believe you just did."

"Tuff!" I took off down the street, with Sarah running behind, laughing and trying to catch up. After a minute I slowed down and let her commence to walking and talking. We were silent for a little while before she broke it.

"So, why do you want to go see Johnny and Dallas again?" She sounded casual.

I thought a real long time before answering. "Well, I don't know. I guess, it's just, glory, Johnny would have thought you were really tuff. He was a great kid, the best one I know, besides Sodapop. You remind me of him, in an odd way. Though, Johnnycake never smiled much, or laughed. But I think if he'd have grown up like you, he woulda been bolder. I dunno…" I trailed off, knowing I was getting pretty deep.

"You don't know what?" I had her full attention. The big brown eyes were staring straight at me, looking right through my tough appearance. For some reason, though, I didn't mind. I liked the fact that she saw past the act. Not many people did.

I took my time answering her, thinking it through. "I don't know why you remind me of Johnny." That was a bold-faced lie. I knew exactly why she did, but I wasn't going to say a dang thing about it. I might have been the deep one, but getting it out was becoming harder and harder since Johnny's death.

"Yeah you do," she stated simply. That was all that needed to be said. I didn't have to say anymore, because she saw right through me and understood, somehow. That was how she reminded me of Johnny. He knew exactly what I was thinking, most of the time.

When we reached the graveyard, the pace of our walk slowed drastically. It was like we were entering a forbidden, solemn place, and we were afraid of getting caught. No one ever raked that grave yard, so the leaves were crunching with every step. Finally, the graves we had come to see were a few feet away, looking just as barren as ever.

I knelt and began clearing the leaves from around the base of Johnny's grave. It was a weird thought, Johnny's grave. I had never imagined someone in the gang dying. Then two did in the same night. It's ironic how you can be completely proved wrong in one night. Johnny's bones were under me, but I knew that he wasn't there. He had died, and he wasn't coming back.

Sarah sighed and sat back when we had finished brushing away the fallen leaves.

"He meant a lot to you, didn't he?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah," I couldn't think of anything better to say. There was a pause, and then she asked another question.

"What was he like?"

I was kind of taken aback at this. Not that much, because Sarah was bold, but still taken aback. I racked my mind for good memories or descriptions or something to answer the question with.

"Johnny, I don't know. He was a tuff grease. A real great guy, too." I thought hard, trying to find the words to describe my best friend.

"But, what was he really like. Was he as deep as you? You said that he didn't laugh much."

Golly, this girl could really ask a lot of questions. I didn't mind all that much, because I hadn't tried to remember Johnny in a long time, and it felt good, in a way.

"Well… The best way to describe Johnnycake is like this: One night, he, Dally and I went to the nightly double. We sat in the stands, right behind these two high-class soc girls. Dally, he was a hood. He, well…" I didn't want to scare her with all the stuff Dally would do. Dally would have scared the heck out of her if he was still alive. "Dally would have scared you. He was tough as nails, and if he smiled, it wasn't a good thing. I respected Dal, because I had to. Well, Dally started messing with the girls in front of us. He ended up buying them cokes and getting the one girl so mad she threw it in his face. Then Johnny out of no where spoke up and said to leave her alone. It was completely out of character for him, because Dally was his idol. Besides that, Johnny never, and I mean never, told anyone what to do. I'm not even sure why he did that night. It was a different night for all of us…" I stopped, remembering. That night started it all. I didn't want to remember it at all.

"But anyway, Johnny was a good guy like that. He and I would sometimes sit in the lot and watch stars. He had a pretty bad home. Parents beat him, dad was a drunk. But he belonged in the gang. He was like our brother."

"Wow," she was deep in thought, contemplating.

We both sat there for a while, thinking to ourselves. A could hear the wind rustling the leaves as I traced the letters on the graves over and over again.

"Hey, Pony?" I was startled out of my thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"Um, well, I was wondering... How did they die?" I winced inside when she asked. I knew I couldn't tell her it all yet, but I also couldn't lie to her.

I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't think up what to say. There was a way to avoid telling her the whole story, but something inside of me didn't want to. My mind blanked. I couldn't think or remember anything. Then one thought penetrated the fog: the look on Johnny's face in that burning church. It was the one time he wasn't scared. I had been terrified, coughing and wheezing and worrying. But not Johnny. He was firm. He was tough. He was gallant.

"Gallant," I whispered to myself.

"What?"

Everything came back into focus then. The graves were in front of me, and I was sitting on the damp leaves. The question returned. I knew I couldn't answer her. I couldn't ever tell anyone about how they died. About the rumble and the running and seeing Johnny die, trying to get home but wandering aimlessly because I was so sick, and then Dally calling, I was unable to run straight, think straight. Dally dying, then passing out. All those memories could never be uttered to another human being. It was my pain, my burden. And no one could ever know.

"Uh, we'd better head back." I had noticed the sunk sinking below the trees. It gave me an excuse.

"Okay," she looked kind of confused.

"It'll be dark soon," I nodded in the sunset's direction, as if to explain my haste.

"You're right," she stood up and brushed herself off. I did the same after running my fingers over the letters on the headstone one more time.

We walked out of the graveyard and hurried back, leaving each other when we came to her street. I waved half-consciously, and then started my trek home.

I got home to exactly what I expected: Soda was cooking dinner, Steve and Two-bit were watching TV and Darry was in his armchair reading. They all nodded their hellos as I entered, then went back to what they were doing.

I headed for the kitchen and sat down at the table while Soda was taking something out of the oven. The table was hard and cold, but I put my head down on it anyway. Soda's cooking smelled pretty good, though I couldn't place what it was. It smelled sort of like meat loaf, with a different spice in it or something. Whatever it was, it was making my stomach growl.

"Hey!" a cheery Soda piped when he noticed me in the kitchen. "It's my baby brother, finally home! Where've you been, Pony?"

I couldn't help but let out a grin at his craziness. I loved Sodapop a whole lot, especially because he could always make people smile.

"Hi Soda."

He grabbed a chair and sat on it backwards, facing me. "What's going on, kid? You seem beat."

"Aw, nothing really, just thinking again. I'm a little tired, but not really beat."

"Okay. You watch out. If you keep thinkin' all the time your head'll explode." He flashed me a crazy grin, but then his face changed to a more serious look. "Seriously, though, what were you thinkin' about? You just walked in the door and you didn't seem like yourself. What gives?"

I knew if there was one person I could talk to about this, it would be Soda, so I spilled my guts to him.

"Sarah and me went to Johnny and Dally's grave's today. She asked me how they died." I looked up at Soda before lowering my eyes to my hands on the table and continuing. "Soda, I just couldn't tell her. She'd have to know the whole story to understand, and I can't tell the whole story. Heck, I can't even say how they died. It's been a year, Sodapop, why haven't I moved on?"

"Hey, now, come on, kid. Give yourself a break. You went through a lot last year. We all did. I'd say you've done as fine a job as you can moving on. Guys like Johnny and Dally don't come around every day. I still think about them a lot too." His tone had softened so the others couldn't hear.

"You do?"

"Heck yeah. All the time I wasn't able to work 'cause of my ribs all I could do what think about them. Do you know how many times Dally cracked his ribs fighting? And Johnny, man, that kid would have jumped out of his skin if he saw how those socs beat me up. I bet everyone thinks about 'em." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and then got up from his chair.

"Y'all want dinner or what?" he called to the people hanging out in the living room.

They all answered by getting up and rushing to the kitchen before I could bat an eye. Soda gave me one of his classic looks, then sat down for dinner.

"Pony, wake up!" Somebody was shaking me, but I didn't know who it was. I didn't want to open my eyes or wake up. My body was telling me that it was exhausted, and I needed to go back to sleep, but whoever it was wouldn't quit.

"Alright!" I growled, "Quit shaking me. What gives?"

"You were having a bad dream, kid. Are you alright?" As I slowly opened my eyes I dimly saw Soda standing over my bed with a worried expression.

"Yeah," I closed my eyes again to try to go back to sleep, but I didn't hear Soda move or get back into bed. After a minute, I re-opened my eyes.

"What, Sodapop?" I asked irritably. I really didn't mean to come across as snippy as I did, but I really hadn't wanted to wake up. Whatever dream I had been having left my memory when Soda started to shake me, so all I wanted to do was sleep.

"Take it easy, Pony, I just wanted to see what was wrong. Your thrashin' around was gonna wake up Darry." He sounded a little hurt, and frankly, I didn't really blame him. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and slowly sat up. Sodapop had walked back over to his bed and sat down.

"Look, I'm sorry..." I was so tired I didn't have the energy to think up a good apology.

"S'alright. Just go back to sleep." He crawled into bed and was starting to pull the covers on, stopping to rub his forehead.

"Are you alright?" The tiredness was still there, but I was awake enough to care.

"Yeah," he rolled over with his back facing me

Shrugging, I lay back down and tried to fall back to sleep. Sleep wouldn't come, though. I tossed and turned for maybe a half hour before getting up out of bed. It was 3:45 a.m. The house was so quiet, it was almost scary. I was used to the constant noise of the television, radio, and random people always in the house. I didn't know why I had gotten up. My bed had just gotten so uncomfortable that I had to move. The couch looked pretty inviting, and was relieved that no one had crashed there that night.

I dozed off a little bit, but was startled back to reality when I heard footsteps in the hall. Soda appeared in the doorway, then made his way over to the couch.

"What are you doing up?" I asked groggily.

He gave me one of his looks. "You know, I could ask you the same question."

I didn't have any comeback for that one, so I just nodded slightly and scooted over so he could sit down. We sat there for a long time before dropping off. He told me he had a headache. I told him I couldn't sleep. That was about all the talking that went on. When we woke up in the morning, I found an army blanket covering both of us. Good old Darry must have seen us.

---I know! This took really long! I'm slacking on finishing my chapters! Then I'll get an idea and add it to the chapter I'm working on, leave it before I finish it, and yeah. Alright, so here's chapter 15, deal with the lateness. It's long, anyhow. The next chapters to come will probably surprise most of you, because unless you're smart, there aren't many hints as to what comes next. I've been enjoying your reviews immensely! Seriously, y'all are really cool. I swore to myself I wouldn't do shout outs, but I just want to thank a few of you: Lintucuiel- you've reviewed almost every chapter and had something good to say every time. It's awesome, thanks.

Sodapop02- Wow, that's awesome about your sister. I got the idea for Olivia from my mom, partly, because she's a PT and works with handicapped children a lot. Sometimes I go with her to clients, or help her out if the kids come here. I absolutely adore most of those kids, and at the moment, my family is praying about adopting a child with special needs. (Well, okay, my mom, sister, and I are praying about it. My dad's uneasy, and my little bros aren't keen on it.) But yeah, I have a soft spot for special needs kids. Your little sister's in my prayers.