"And Dally," Steve said, smiling ruefully, shaking his head.

"He was tough, he was…" My dad stroked his chin, looked into the distance, back beyond the years.

"Dangerous," Ponyboy added.

"'Member that time he knocked out that kid's teeth at the drug store? Because he wanted Dal to move?" Dad laughed and so did Steve. I stared at the places his teeth should have been.

"You know, it's funny," Steve said, and he looked almost sad, "back then I thought things wouldn't change, that we'd all stick together," He gave a harsh laugh and looked at my dad from the corners of his eyes, and almost seemed to blame him. Ponyboy, too, gave my dad a thinly veiled dirty look.

Dad stared ahead, lit a cigarette, then stood up.

"I don't know about you two. We're not teenagers anymore. I have a wife, a son, a life in California. This, this is just a trip down memory lane for me, and it ain't that great,"

Ponyboy looked at dad with a sort of angry shock.

"Yeah, Soda, you just upped and left. I had thought I could count on you…"

"Ponyboy! What's here, huh? Sandy left me cause she got knocked up, mom and dad are dead, Johnny and Dally and Darry are all dead! This place just depresses me so fucking much…"

I stared from one to the next to the next. My dad, still so handsome, and usually smiling and joking, easy going. But he was upset now, nearly crying. His wheat blond hair hanging over his forehead, tears in his eyes. I was real close to him, and my mom, maybe since I was an only child. Sometimes dad was more like a friend than a dad.

Ponyboy's look of anger was softening, and he laid a hand on my dad's arm. Uncle Ponyboy, the uncle I didn't even know. My mom had a brother, uncle Jimmy, and he was always around. Bought me stuff for my birthday, took me places, he was there at Christmas and Thanksgiving. But Ponyboy was a stranger to me.

And Steve who I'd never even heard of until I read uncle Ponyboy's essay. Steve ran a nervous hand through his hair.

"Look, I don't like coming here, it's all loss and, and…I just had to come see the house one last time,"

That was that. Things quieted down and they drank more beer, smoked more cigarettes, and fell asleep.

In the morning I stumbled into the kitchen, looking for some juice or something.

"Good morning,"

I jumped, and saw Ponyboy in the corner of the kitchen clutching a coffee mug.

"God, Ponyboy! You want me to have a heart attack?"

"Sorry," he smiled, and looked at me funny.

"What?"

"You know, you look a lot like your dad used to. It's almost like looking at the past," Wistful. I'd found some orange juice and poured a glass. It seemed like Ponyboy kind of lived in the past.

"I read it," I admitted when we were sitting at the table. Dad and Steve were still asleep.

"Read what?"

"Your essay, you know, 'The Outsiders'?"

"'The Outsiders'? Oh…oh yeah. Holy shit, that thing's still up there?"

I nodded, took a long swallow of juice. Dad and Steve looked more passed out than asleep. Mouths open, hair plastered to the sides of their heads, still in their clothes.

"I feel like I know Johnny and Dally, and you," I said. Ponyboy nodded, swallowed hard, and took a cigarette from his pack on the table, his last.

"I still miss them. Especially Johnny,"