Chapter Sixteen:


When I got home from work that evening, Darry was already starting dinner and put me to work as soon as I walked in the door.

Soda and Steve were playing cards in the living room, and they both looked up as I passed. "Get me a Pepsi, will ya, Sis?" Soda asked as he peered down at the cards he was holding thoughtfully.

"Sure," I replied. "Ya want one, Steve?"

"Nah," he shook his head, smiling a little and my heart fluttered. He's got this little smile that he only shows for me, and every time I see it I feel like my knees are going weak. "I'm good, thanks, doll."

I grabbed Soda a drink from the refrigerator and brought it back to him, placing it on the table. "Thanks," he said without looking up.

"No problem," I smiled, smirking as I caught sight of his cards. "Five Kings, Sodapop?"

Steve scowled. "I knew ya were cheatin', ya good for nothin'..." he reached across the table and swatted Soda's cards, and within minutes the two of them were arm-wrestling, laughing as they tried to outdo one another.

While Darry baked the chicken and potatoes, I prepared a salad and heated up some vegetables. Whenever there was a rumble, the boys usually ate with us beforehand, but since Dally and Johnny were in the hospital, and Two-Bit liked to eat with his mother and sister, we didn't have to make too big of a meal.

Ponyboy got home just as we were all sitting down to dinner. He looked tired and a little pale, and when he said that he'd just come from seeing Johnny and Dally, I understood why. We ate in comfortable silence for the most part, with the exception of Steve and Soda's lively conversation at the other end of the table. More than once I caught Steve's eye and he winked at me before turning back to listening to what Soda was saying.

After we finished eating, Ponyboy slipped into the bathroom to take a quick shower while Darry got cleaned up for the rumble, and Soda and Steve resumed their poker game which I'd made them put on hold in order to come eat dinner.

As for me, I got to clean up the table and do up the dishes, just like I'd been doing all day, except I wasn't getting paid to do it for the boys.

"Soda," Ponyboy called from the bathroom. "When did you start shaving?"

"When I was fifteen," Soda hollered back.

"When did Darry?"

"When he was thirteen," Soda replied. "Why? Ya figurin' on growin' a beard for the rumble?"

I snorted, rolling my eyes as I finished up rinsing the last of the plates.

"You're funny," Ponyboy called sarcastically. "We ought to send you in to Reader's Digest or somethin'. I hear they pay a lot for funny things."

Soda just laughed, going right back to his poker game. I dried off my hands on the towel draped over the side of the counter, and headed back into the living room just as Darry came in, tugging on a tight-fitting black shirt that showed off his sculpted muscles. "Hey, Lizzie," he said, waving me over. "I wanna talk to you for a minute."

"Okay," I said, dropping down onto the couch in front of him. "What about?"

Darry frowned, a grim look on his handsome features. "I want you to sit this one out tonight."

I blinked, startled. Not once had I ever been told I was out of a fight, not in all the years that I'd been scrapping right alongside my brothers and the boys. Not even Mom and Dad had ever actually forbidden me from fighting, though Mom had made her feelings on the matter pretty clear. "What?" I demanded. "Why?"

"Well, things have been a lot rougher than usual lately," Darry began slowly.

"So what?" I asked incredulously. "You implyin' I can't handle or somethin'?!"

"That ain't what I'm sayin', princess," Darry shook his head. "It's just that you've been exhausted lately, pushin' yourself too hard with things. I reckon work and divin' has got you all tuckered out."

My sharp reply was bit back by a wave of guilt at the reminder that he didn't know I'd dropped the diving team. As mad as he would have been about me working double shifts, I reckon he'd be even angrier about me throwing my chance to get into college out the window and all.

"This is crazy," I protested, pushing to my feet angrily. "You can't just tell me I'm out of a fight, Darry, it don't work that way!"

"Well, it does startin' now," Darry said sternly, and there was no hint of compromise in the stern set of his eyes. "I mean it, Elizabeth," he gave me a sharp look, and I winced at the use of the full name. "I don't want you fightin' tonight."

I lifted my chin defiantly, about to unleash my righteous fury on him, when the last person I expected to hear supported Darry spoke up. "He's got a point, Lizzie."

I shot Steve a surprised and betrayed look, but he didn't even flinch. He merely laid down his next hand of cards, continuing the poker game as he talked.

"We all know you can handle yourself just fine in a rumble," Steve reasoned. "That ain't in question here. All your big brother is sayin' is that tonight, it's gonna be bad, win or lose. And things will be rough enough without havin' to keep an eye on you the whole time."

"I don't need nobody to baby-sit me, Steve," I snapped.

"I know that," Steve rolled his eyes, taking a drag on his cigarette before stomping it out on the floor, which earned him an elbow to the ribs from Soda. "All I'm sayin' is it'd just gonna cause trouble if everyone is worryin' 'bout you in the middle of the fight."

He glanced up at me, for just a moment, but the look in his eyes said enough to convince me he wasn't talking about Darry or Soda or the others. He was talking about himself, saying that he'd be likely to get himself in a bind worrying over me. Part of me was annoyed by that, but another part of me was actually touched, which only served to irritate me even more.

"Fine," I muttered, sinking back onto the couch and folding my arms over my chest in a huff. "Have it your way."

"That mean you're gonna stay put?" Darry asked, sounding relieved.

I sighed, blowing out a long hiss of air. "Yeah," I said, looking up at him in annoyance. "I'm gonna stay put."

"Good," Darry replied, giving me a small smile. "Thanks, princess."

"Whatever," I muttered, shooting Steve an extra glare out of the corner of my eye for good measure. He just smirked, swiping a gulp of Soda's Pepsi, and went back to his poker game. Soda flashed me a lopsided grin, probably assuming that Steve had backed Darry up just to tick me off.

Remembering what Dally had said back at the hospital about how Soda was likely to react when he found about me and Steve, I reckoned it was smart to let him keep thinking that.

Ponyboy emerged from his bedroom, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, and dropped down on the couch beside me as he started to roll up the sleeves. "What are ya so glum for?" he asked, giving me a distracted glance.

"I'm out of the rumble," I replied evenly, glaring at the floor.

"Really?" Pony asked, sounding as if he couldn't believe it, either. "How come?"

"Ask Darry," I muttered, but Darry had already disappeared into the other room. We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching Steve and Soda play, before Ponyboy tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "You like fights, don't you, Soda?" he asked suddenly.

"Yeah, sure," Soda shrugged, drawing another card. "I like fights."

"How come?" Pony inquired.

"I don't know," Soda said, shooting him a puzzled look. "It's action, it's a contest. Like a dance or a drag race or somethin'."

"Shoot," Steve said with a smirk. "I just want to beat those Socs' heads in. When I get into a fight, I want to stomp the other guy good. And I like it, too."

Despite myself, I smiled. Soda was an adrenaline junkie if I ever saw one, and Steve, well, Steve just liked anything that let him work out his frustrations and anger. Living with his old man has given him plenty of it stored up, so he needs fighting to vent it all out so he doesn't explode. It was good for him to be able to let off steam in a fight.

"How come you like fights, Darry?" Ponyboy asked, looking over at the doorway where Darry was leaning against the wall. Darry frowned a little, the way he always does when he's deep in thought.

"He likes to show off his muscles," Soda snickered.

"I'm gonna show 'em off on you, little buddy, if you get any mouthier," Darry told him. He looked back at Ponyboy, pursing his lips. "I don't know if you ought to be in this rumble, either, Ponyboy."

Pony stiffened, his eyes wide. "How come?" he demanded, the same way I had. "I've always come through before, haven't I?"

"Yeah," Darry said with a proud grin. "You fight real good for a kid your size. But you were in shape before. You've lost weight and you don't look so great, kid. You're tensed up too much."

I glanced over at Ponyboy, and realized that Darry was right. Ponyboy was as tense as an alley cat ready to pounce on its next meal. Come to think of it, he'd been that way ever since he got back.

"Shoot," Soda scoffed, trying to get a hidden Ace out of his shoe without Steve seeing it. "We all get tensed up before a rumble. Let him fight tonight." He reached over and gave Pony a playful punch in the shoulder. "Skin never hurt anyone- no weapons, no danger."

"Yeah, let him fight, Darry," I piped up, crossing my arms and giving him a petulant look. "One of us has to."

"I'll be okay," Pony said, giving him a pleading look. "I'll grab hold of a little one, okay?"

Darry bit his lip, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. "Well, Johnny won't be there this time..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "But neither will Curly Shepard, or Dally, and we'll need every man we can get..."

"What happened to Shepard?" Pony asked with a curious frown.

"He's in the cooler," Steve replied, kicking the Ace out of Soda's shoe. "In the reformatory."

"What for?"

"Knocked over a gas station," I answered with a sigh. It looked like Curly wasn't going to be getting out anytime soon, either.

Pony gave a shake of his head in dismay, then turned back to Darry and resumed his begging. "Let me fight, Darry. If it were blades or chains or somethin' it'd be different. Nobody ever really gets hurt in a skin rumble."

"Well..." Darry sighed, giving in. "I guess you can. But be careful, and if you get in a jam, holler and I'll help ya out."

"It'll be okay," Pony said wearily. "How come you never worry about Soda this much? I don't see you lecturin' him."

"Man," Darry grinned, draping an arm over Soda's shoulders. "This is one kid brother I ain't gotta worry about. This kid can use his head."

Soda punched him affectionately in the ribs and I raised an eyebrow.

"As you can see, he uses it for one thing- to grow hair on," Darry continued dryly, ducking under Soda's swing and then taking off for the door.

Two-Bit stuck his head in the door just as Darry went flying out of it. Darry threw himself into a flip off the steps, landing on the ground lightly and pushing to his feet before Soda could catch him.

"Welup," Two-Bit grinned. "I see we are in prime condition for a rumble. Everybody happy?"

"Yeah!" Soda yelled, following Darry's lead and doing a flying somersault off the porch. He flipped up onto his hands and walked across the yard, just to beat Darry's performance.

Steve shot me a grin, then took off at a run before leaping into a back flip on the front lawn.

Ponyboy and Two-Bit gave a chorus of happy whoops, throwing themselves off the porch in identical roundoffs, landing with bent knees on the grass below. The boys were all hollering and roughing one another up, and I smiled despite my annoyance at being left behind. "Ya'll be careful now, ya hear?" I called from the doorway.

"Yes, Mother," Two-Bit called sarcastically.

"Get outta here, you no-count hoods," I chuckled, waving them off and stepping back into the house, shutting the door behind me. Making my way across the room, I dropped down onto the couch and turned on the television.

If there was a bright side to not being able to fight in the rumble, it was that I had the television all to myself, which meant that I could watch Get Smart without interruption for once. Ponyboy and I both enjoy the show, but every time we try to watch it with the boys home, Soda and Two-Bit get bored and end chasing one another around the house pretending to be secret agents. Usually they end up annoying the others until Darry disappears into his room to read, and Dally and Steve split. Johnny always stayed behind, though, maybe because he liked the noise and the laughter better than being ignored back home.

The familiar theme song filled the room, and soon I found myself absorbed in the latest antics of Agent 86 and Agent 99, but for some reason I couldn't quite seem to get into it that night. I just had this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that something bad was going to happen.

If only I'd known how right I was.