Author's Note: Yes, yes, yes, I know, yet another filler. GOOD STUFF IS COMING! I swear! Just wait. The next chapter will be better and longer, hang with me for a little bit.

CrazyAlchemistgrl017 groans I did.

Sodapop's#1gurl: I do what you ask me too and you don't even acknowledge it? Was is THAT bad?

Disclaimer: As if.

Chapter 7 Darry's POV

"What the heck are you doing home?" Where the first words I heard when I stepped in the door.

"It's good to see you too." Ponyboy rolled his eyes.

"You know what I meant."

"Yeah?"

"Why are you home early?" I threw my keys on the coffee table and ruffled his hair.

"You can't roof houses in the rain kiddo." He shrugged and went back to his book.

"You have any homework?"

"On a Sunday in June?" He looked up and raised his eyebrows. Cripes, where had that come from? I decided not to say anything and went to the kitchen to start dinner. I heard Ponyboy mumble something about him not being the only one who didn't use his head, but I let it go. I didn't feel like wrestling. I had tried Angel's advice for about ten minutes and then I'd decided to go back to two loads. It wasn't the smartest thing, but it got more of the job done quicker. Besides, the dull ache of the pulled muscles in my back took my thoughts away from other, more distracting, thoughts.

"What do you want for dinner?"

"Food."

"What kind of food."

"Chocolate."

Blasted kid, he'd eat cardboard if it was covered with chocolate and not know the difference. I decided on waffles. No one cared if we had breakfast for dinner. Mom did it all the time when she didn't really want to cook. Soda loved it because he always soaked his waffles in syrup. When he got that much sugar afternoon he did back flips. He claimed that it sweetened his dreams. All that tons of sugar gave me was a headache, but it didn't ever bother him. I wondered if it bothered Angel. Of course, she had chocolate syrup in her coffee, maybe she was as bad a Soda. I wondered if I'd ever find out.

Angel's POV

When Tom came home and found me on the kitchen floor all he did was roll his eyes and stepped over me to the refrigerator. Nothing phases that kid. Well, not anymore. If he had found me lying on the floor, sopping wet, with a puddle of rainwater around me he'd have made me take a hot shower, eat a bowl of chicken noodle soup, and told me to go to bed early to prevent me from getting a cold. He used to like to take care of me, even if he was three years younger. Now he was just...there, almost like he lived in a world that existed only to him. He was starting to hang out with hippie type people, all who were older than he was and wore funny clothes. At least I thought they were funny. The one time I mentioned that to him he told me that times were changing and that I needed to stop living in a nicely painted, but dark box in a hole in the ground. We hadn't really talked much since.

"Hello to you too." He looked at me from behind the milk carton he'd been drinking out of.

"Hi." He wiped off his mouth and put the carton back in the fridge. He then stepped over me again and rushed off to his room. I rolled my eyes and sat up, cleaned up the floor and went to my room which was in the attic of our small house.

I changed clothes and hung the wet ones over the bathtub. With a towel wrapped around my head and a blanket around my body I watched the rain from a chair I'd pulled up to my window. The steady pounding soothed me and I was soon lost in the drops falling from heaven. I didn't bother to think. I made my mind blank. I removed all disturbing thoughts from my head. And that's when it came to me.

I would move out. I didn't want to stay here. I had never liked my attic room, which was unbearably hot in the summer and frigid in the winter. I was eighteen; I could live on my own. My dad would be all too happy to get me away. Heck, he'd probably pay for a little tiny house all my own. He'd been working so much lately and we'd been fighting so much he'd be glad to get rid of me. And even if he didn't I had a bit saved up that I was gonna buy a car with, but maybe, just maybe I could make a down payment on a small house, or even an apartment with it. I knew of at least three places were I could get a job so I could pay rent. I didn't eat much, so buying groceries wouldn't be too terribly bad. I could do it. I'd ask my dad tonight and I was willing to bet by the end of the week I'd be out and on my own.

I presented my idea to my father the next day and he agreed wholeheartedly. And he paid for it. He told me to find a small place that I wanted and he'd use the money that he'd made working extra shifts to put a down payment on it. I started packing and job hunting on Monday. By the Thursday I'd found an apartment that I liked well enough and he made the down payment. I spent Friday scanning Salvation Army for the things I didn't have and buying what I couldn't find elsewhere. That weekend I started moving in. I did all the moving too. My dad just watched me hull boxes out to my little car. Monday night was the last night I spent in my house. I wish I hadn't.

I was upstairs, packing endless boxes, when my brother came home at 2 AM. He brought me up some coffee and toast, taking care of me like he had before Mom left. And he gave me a small bottle of pills. When I asked what they were he told me they were vitamins and that he was afraid I would make myself sick working so hard. He also told me to only take one at a time, which I couldn't figure out. Vitamins are good for you; you're supposed to be able to take lots at a time before they make you sick. But he told me again just to take one at a time and to try to sleep before the sun came up. Then he went to bed.

I took out one of the pills out of the bottle and looked at it. I decided my brother was being too overprotective and finished packing before I went to the couch and slept. My dad woke me up before he went to work at seven. I was dog tired, but so I washed pill down with half a cup of coffee and went lugged the rest of my cartons out to the car. For only having a few hours of sleep I had a lot of energy and I managed to carry twice what I normally could've up to my new home. By noon I had my bed put together in what should've been the living room, but I didn't have a couch, so it worked. I also had half the cartons unpacked and put away and I was still full of energy.

It was then that I remembered the orphanage, which I hadn't visited in over a week. I felt horrible, so I took another one of Tom's vitamins, figuring that it would keep my immune system up, because you never know what kind of bacteria is floating around that place, and took off on foot. The apartment I had chosen was really an old two story house that was divided into four sections, two apartments on top and two on the bottom. It was about two blocks from Main St. and about six or seven from the orphanage and it took me roughly ten minutes to get there.

When I got to the orphanage I was immediately accosted by screaming children who tried to drag me in six directions at once. Almost as soon as I was grabbed I was saved by three sisters who ushered the children away. I protested almost as loudly as the children and spent the rest of the afternoon wrestling and laughing and having a great time. I felt better than I had in ages. It felt so good to be with all of them again. Those kids were just what I needed. I stayed until dinner and then left after briefly chatting with the Mother about Sophie and Darrel's idea. She nodded briefly and said she'd try it that night. She told me that the nightmares had become less frequent over the last week and that Sophie had slept the whole night away twice and that she'd asked for me the nights that she had had the nightmares. A stab of guilt hit me. I should've taken the time to come visit. I should've been there. She must've noticed my anguished look.

"Don't worry dear. You're young and you have a life of your own. One can't expect you to be tied down to this old place forever. Now then, tell me about your apartment."

I finally left still feeling guilty and energetic. When I got back to the apartment I finished unpacking and ate a bowl of cereal for dinner along with another vitamin. Now that I was free I didn't want to get sick first thing. Then I roamed. I had more energy than ever. I went through all three rooms and marveled. I had a combined kitchen and living room, a smallish room that would've been my bedroom had I enough furniture, and a good sized bathroom. The apartment had come with a refrigerator, a stove and even a telephone which I was immensely grateful for. It was painted in nice cheery colors. The kitchen/living room was painted pale yellow with bright blue trim, which I found very nice. The bathroom was the opposite and what would've been the bedroom was painted a sherbet orange color with bright white trim. I had put my desk and a couple chairs in there along with some great lamps I'd found at the Salvation Army. I moved a couple things around on the desk and switched the chairs back a forth. Then I went to the kitchen and opened and closed all the cabinets, trying to figure where on earth I'd get enough stuff to fill them all. I couldn't stand it. I felt so jittery it was almost scary. I blamed it on being all alone in my own apartment without anyone else near by. I ran up and down the stairs a few times and finally felt tired enough to collapse onto my bed and doze fitfully.

I spent the next two days going to interviews. The best job I could get was at CRS Contracting and Roofing as a secretary and the worst was being a cashier at a Fox Drug and Grocery. Whatever I got would be better than my part time job as a waitress which wouldn't be enough to buy groceries, much less pay rent. I had a really good interview at CRS whose manager told me that he would call in the next two days and set up an appointment for a follow up interview. They called the very next day, much to my surprise and set up an interview for Friday.

On Friday I put on my smartest outfit, did my hair in a professional looking French twist and even put on a little make up, which I didn't like doing, but figured it would make a better impression. It turned out that I needn't have bothered. After the first couple minutes of introductory small talk I was told that I had gotten the job and was asked if Monday was too soon to start. I did my best to keep my excitement low key and told them I would be delighted to start on Monday. Then we shook hands and I was escorted out of the office. Once outside I let out a shriek of delight and immediately went to the orphanage to tell everyone the good news.