Chapter Eight:


There was some new gossip at school the following day, this time having nothing to do with Ponyboy or Johnny or Bob Sheldon's murder.

It hadn't surprised me much to see Mikey waiting in the halls with Emma and Tessa, ever since he and Tess had started going steady he'd been showing up more and more often for classes. I reckon she's been having a good affect on the boy and all.

What did surprise me was the reason Mikey had shown up that day. It wasn't to go to class, or even to see Tessa. It was to let us girls know what had gone down the night before.

It seems Curly got into a bit of scuffle with his old man, and, as so many of our boys tend to do, he let out his frustrations by knocking over a gas station.

That bugged me real bad for the rest of the day. I mean, I know Curly's a hood, I know he's always going to be a hood. He's been in juvie more times than anyone in town. But I couldn't help feeling sad every time something like this happened. He was a good kid, deep down. If circumstances had been different, if life had treated him kinder, he might very well have made something of himself one day.

It wasn't fair, but, as Darry was reminding me all the time, life isn't fair.

I got through my classes okay, even though we had a surprise quiz in math. I did fairly well on it, especially given the fact that I had about a hundred other things on my mind that had nothing to do with mathematics.

There was still a lot of talk about Ponyboy and Johnny, though, and a bunch of kids had the newspaper out at lunch. Emma, Tessa and I ate in the cafeteria, something we hardly ever do. I didn't explain why I wanted to stay at school, but I reckon they knew anyway. Emma had filled Tessa in about the kiss that morning, so she was just as curious about what it meant, but I didn't have any answers.

I'm sure the boys were surprised when I didn't meet them out at the car for lunch, it's been almost a religion for our gang since the start of high school, but I had a feeling Steve didn't sit around the parking lot waiting on me. He's a smart boy, when I wasn't there by the time the other cars had pulled out, he probably realized I wasn't coming.

I couldn't help wondering if he was relieved by that or not.

A lot of Socs kept throwing glances in our direction, particularly Eddie and his buddies, but we didn't get any trouble. I guess I got lucky, since he didn't report me to the principal for breaking his nose. Then again, from what I heard around school it had been pointed out to him that if he did file a complaint, he'd have to admit that he was harassing me. Our principal is a pretty okay guy, but he's always been real hard on boys who pick on the female students. Something happened to his sister a long time ago, or so the rumors say.

Whatever the truth was, I was just glad that it kept Darry from receiving a phone call. If he'd found out about that, he'd have skinned me good. Right after Mom and Dad died I was constantly getting into fights at school, and that really made Darry angry, because he was trying so hard to keep this family together, and I sure wasn't helping by getting sent to the principal's office on a daily basis. I couldn't really help it, though, there was just so much grief bottled up inside of me and I didn't have any other way of dealing with it. I'd promised Darry he'd never get another call about me fighting, and by some miracle I'd been able to keep my word.

Needless to say, by the time I got home I was exhausted. I was ready to just sprawl out on my bed and sleep for the entire night. Of course, that wouldn't go over too well with Darry, and I had to eat, so I was willing to settle for a good few hours of napping.

As soon as I stepped into the living room, though, I knew I wasn't even going to get that.

"Soda?" I asked softly, surprised to see my brother sitting on the couch, his shoulders slumped and his head buried in his hands. My heart lodged in my throat, and it felt like the whole world was spinning out of control around me. Soda had work today, and he wouldn't have missed it unless something awful had happened.

Oh God, I thought, struggling to keep my breathing steady. Please, not Ponyboy...

"Sodapop?" I called again, since he didn't seem to hear me the first time.

His shoulders stiffened, but he didn't raise his head. "What are ya doin' home?" he asked quietly, and I could tell he'd been crying. His voice was hoarse and shaky, sounding like it might wilter at any moment.

"I just got back from school," I replied, resisting the urge to return his own question on him. "I had a long day and I've got homework so I decided to come straight home instead of going over to the DX station with Two-Bit and Steve."

That wasn't a complete lie, I did have a lot of homework and I was completely beat, but the main reason I hadn't gone was that I'd been doing my best to avoid Steve Randle all day. I just didn't think Soda needed to hear that, especially not right now that something was obviously wrong.

"I should probably call him," Soda muttered, and I knew he was talking about Steve. "He'll wonder why I'm not at work when he gets there."

He reached for the phone, but I placed a hand on his arm, stilling his movement. "Tell me what's going on, Soda," I implored gently, but with an urgency in my tone that couldn't be helped. He was scaring me, and it was all I could do to keep my composure at the moment. I hadn't seen him this shaken since the weeks after Mom and Dad died, and if something had happened to Ponyboy I didn't think I could stand it.

Soda didn't answer right away, and for a long moment I thought he wasn't going to, but just as I was getting ready to storm over to the phone and call Darry, he decided to speak.

"It's Sandy."

I settled back onto my heels in front of him, the tightness in my chest easing in relief that this troubling news had nothing to do with Ponyboy. Girl troubles I could handle easily enough. "What about her?" I asked. "Ya'll get into a fight or somethin'?"

He lifted his face and I knew at once it was more than that. His cheeks were pale, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy, and for the first time I noticed that his knuckles were bleeding a little. My insides turned cold, and I was dreading what he had to say next.

"She's pregnant," Soda rasped.

My eyes widened in disbelief, and my lips parted in shock. Sandy was pregnant? How was that possible? I mean, I know how it's possible, it's just... I was in shock.

"Wanna know the worst part?" Soda asked, giving a bitter laugh. "It's not mine."

My stomach dropped to the floor at that, and I stared at Soda in horrified disbelief. Sandy had cheated on him? How was that possible, the girl adored him?! But the look of despair in his eyes told me this was really happening, and I couldn't help wondering if maybe I'd seen the devotion in Soda's eyes for Sandy, and just assumed Sandy felt the same.

"Oh, Soda..." I breathed, at a loss for words.

"I told her that didn't matter," Soda gasped out, his voice quivering with barely containted sobs. "I told her I still loved her and that I wanted to marry her anyway, but she's leaving..."

"For where?" I asked softly, falling back on the gentle tone that Mom always used to use when us kids were upset about something. "Where's she goin'?"

"To live with her grandmother in Florida," Soda answered, his voice almost to the breaking point now. "She's leavin' tonight."

I bit my lip, not knowing what to say. "I'm sorry, Sodapop," I said softly, my eyes stinging with tears. Not over Sandy, although I was plenty upset about her betrayal of my brother, but because it seemed like my family was always suffering. I wanted to take away the pain he was going through, I wanted to bear it myself to keep it from him, but I couldn't.

God, I wished Mom was there at that moment. She would know what to say, she would know how to make things better. She always did.

But I wasn't Mom, no matter how hard I tried to be. I was just me, just Elizabeth Anne Curtis, and for the life of me I had no idea what to do for my hurting brother short of kicking Sandy's ass, and somehow I didn't think that would make Soda feel any better.

"I love her, Lizzie," Soda whimpered, tears sliding down his cheeks. "I love her so much."

"I know, baby," I said, wrapping my arms around him. I held him tightly for a long moment, my chest heavy. After a few minutes I pulled back, my eyes going to his injured hand. I didn't ask what had happened to it, I didn't need to. I'd seen the gang bust open their knuckles plenty of times by punching walls in anger, and it was obvious that was what had happened. "Let me clean that up for you, okay, baby?"

Soda didn't reply, but he didn't protest either, and so I pushed to my feet and disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve the First Aid kit. I knelt in front of him, gently cleaning the cuts on his hands with the tenderness that Mom used to display when she would clean up our injuries, letting him recompose himself.

His hands weren't as bad as they had looked, they wouldn't need bandaging, after all. Still, I felt better having cleaned his knuckles off, at least I'd been able to do something for him.

When I was finished, I rose to my feet and started towards the kitchen to return the First Aid kit to its place in the drawer, when Soda quietly called my name.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" I asked.

"Thanks," was all he said, but it was sincere and heartfelt, and it encompassed more than an entire monologue could have.

"You're welcome," I replied, forcing a bright smile on my face. "After all, what are sisters for?"