Chapter 3

When the movie was over, we walked toward the entrance, the boys arguing over their current dilemma – they wanted to see Cherry and Marcia and me all home safely, and we lived nowhere near each other. They finally decided to go over to Two-Bit's and get his car. I really didn't want to go with them. Normally, I'd have just walked myself home, but I was a little spooked after Pony's being jumped. Besides, I promised Soda.

We were passing the Dingo when I spotted Sandy and Evie sitting inside. "Here, y'all get these girls home and I'll get Soda to run me back."

"Are you sure?" Johnny asked, worried.

"Sandy's there, so he must be, too," I said. "It's fine." I looked at Ponyboy. "Come right back, Pony, Darry'll be waiting."

"I will. Tell him I'm fine, okay?"

"Okay." I smiled at Johnny, feeling suddenly shy. "See you tomorrow."

"Tuff enough," he answered, just as shyly.

I sprinted into the Dingo, in the best mood I'd been in all week. Sandy and Evie were sitting in a corner booth, deep in conversation. They look startled when I came up to them, like I'd interrupted something important.

"Hey, Cinnamon," Sandy said. I was startled to see she looked like she'd been crying.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your date," I said. "But I promised Soda I wouldn't walk home alone. I thought he could take a minute and run me over."

"Soda ain't here," Evie said roughly. I think she knows I can't stand Steve, even though we've never discussed it. I don't like her much either, come to think of it.

"He's not? Where is he?"

"It wasn't my turn to watch him," Evie said frostily.

"I'll take you," Sandy said. "I've got my daddy's car." She looked meaningfully at Evie. "Wait here, okay? I'll be right back."

As we pulled out of the parking lot, a blue Mustang nearly ran us off the road. Sandy swore and looked ready to start crying.

"Did you and Soda have a fight?" I asked finally.

"Yeah. Well, no, not really. He doesn't --" Sandy took a deep breath and pulled over to the side of the road, about a half block from our house. "Look. I don't want him seein' the car and comin' out, can you walk from here? I'll watch you."

"What's going on?" I said. When she didn't answer, I said, "Sure, that's fine," and started opening the door.

Sandy started to cry then, really hard. I closed the door again and put one hand on her shoulder.

"Sandy, whatever happened, it's all right," I said. "Soda loves you, you know he does."

"I know," she sobbed. "It's not – I'm -- I'm late, Cinnamon. Really late."

I knew she wasn't talking about her curfew. "Good glory," I whispered. "Does Soda know?"

"It's not his," she whispered. "We didn't – we never -- "

I took my hand off her shoulder, suddenly cold. "How could you do this to him?" I said in a shocked voice.

"I don't know," she answered miserably.

"Larry Joseph," I said, suddenly remembering my conversation with Debbie and Linda. I fumbled for the door handle. This was going to kill Sodapop.

"Wait a minute." Sandy dug around in her purse and handed me a folded note. "Can you give this to him?"

"No, I cannot," I snapped. "You want to be a two-timing bitch, you can tell him yourself. I ain't doin' your dirty work for you."

I got out and slammed the door as hard as I could and walked briskly toward the house.

"He'll wonder where I went," she called after me. I stopped, but didn't turn around. "My parents – they're sending me to Florida, to my grandmother's house. Please, Cinnamon. Please."

I looked over my shoulder. She was holding the note out the window. I went back and snatched it out of her hand. She said more, but I shoved the note in my pocket and ran for the house, ignoring her.

Darry was in the kitchen when I came in. He looked at the clock. "Where's Ponyboy?"

"Seeing some girl home. Where's Soda?"

"Behind you," he answered, pushing me playfully. "Pony's got a girl?"

"Some girls from the movies. They had fights with their boyfriends. Pony said to tell you he's fine and he'll be home soon." I stuck my hands in my pockets, fingering Sandy's note.

"That boy has no common sense," Darry muttered.

I went into my room and changed into my nightgown, which was actually Darry's old football jersey from high school. It came down to my knees. "Sodapop!" I hollered.

"What?"

"Come tuck me in!" I couldn't think of anything else, and I knew he'd come. And he did, though he was looking at me like I had two heads. I patted the bed next to me. "Sit down."

He did, and I handed him Sandy's note. I waited quietly while he read it, trying not to peek at it over his shoulder. About halfway through, he let out this little gasp and I leaned my head against his arm and rubbed his knee.

A minute later, he said, "She told you?"

"Yeah."

"Don't tell Darry."

"'Course not."

"It'd be better to just come home married," he said. "If I tell him, he'll try to talk me out of it."

I gaped at him. I expected ranting and raving, punched walls, and maybe, just maybe, some crying, but I never in a million years expected calm.

"Married?" I said faintly. "She said her parents were sending her to Florida."

"I'll head over there first thing in the morning," he said. "She can tell me what happened, and we'll explain it to her folks. We definitely ought to be married to have a baby."

"Soda," I started, then stopped. I wasn't sure what to say. He had to know, I mean, if they hadn't –

He chuckled softly. "I know. But if we're married, and I'm raisin' him, he'll be mine, won't he?"

I was speechless. I didn't know if he was the greatest guy in the world or the most stupid.

Soda stood up and pocketed the note, then slid me under my quilt, tucking me in as if that was really what I'd wanted.

"Soda, are you sure?" I said. "Because you should be sure, before you ask her."

"I'm sure I love her. Nothing else matters." He kissed the top of my head and whistled his way out of the room.

I wish he'd been right. I wish love was always enough to make things work.