I switch POVs halfway or so through. That's all I have so say as long as I don't fall asleep on my computer.

January 30th

I couldn't remember, at this point, what it was like to not worry about something.

For me, it was mostly the upcoming competition in exactly thirteen days. And if I was good enough, I would go to London. Which would be in twenty days. So, really, the biggest worry on my mind was that I might have twenty days left in Tulsa. I called Ashley, Hannah, Emilie and Daphne, but none of them were able to talk long, and I really needed someone to talk to.

I came to the conclusion that I would swallow my pride and go apologize to Sodapop for whatever I did to offend him, and tell him how even though I don't really return his feelings,I wish we could stillbe friends, (I've said it once, and I'll say it again -I can lie through my teeth and nobody notices) and then see if he'd listen to me. And if he wouldn't, I'd talk to Pony, because, for someone two years younger, he's a surprisingly good friend, and he'd almost become my mentor lately...which I found a little weird.

Anyway, I wasn't about to call them, because I never did that, and it would be weird for me. So I set off across town, noticing how easy the walk was, seeing as I'd done it more times than I could count. This time I chose to take the route that took me by the old record store, and I saw something in the window that made my breath catch in my throat.

It was a guitar. But not an acoustic one, like I had, it was an electric guitar. Like the ones Eric Clapton, and Jimi Hendrix played. It was shiny brown in color, and the silver strings gleamed in the winter sunlight pouring through the window. For the first time, the record store looked beautiful. I tore my eyes away and walked on, but I knew how much I'd be thinking about it later.

As I continued on my way, I thought I heard the sound of car tires. Like when a car drives on soggy wet gravel. I turned and saw a car driving away.

That's weird, I thought, it was awfully close to me. It was just parked there...but nobody got in or out ofit. It only moved once I did.

It wasa dark wine color, and looked alot like my dad's car. Really, I'd say it was my Dad's car, but he'd be at work right then. But that meant I'd easily recoginze it if I ever saw it again.

I suddenly got chills down my spine, and ran all the rest of the way there.


"Sure," he said, brightly, "You didn't think I didn't want anything to do with you, did you?"

"No," I lied, "But just incase, that might've been a bit...awkward, if you didn't."

I had never known anyone in my life to be as agreeable. Then again, I'd never known anyone in my life to be anything like Soda.

"No way, we're still friends as long as you want to be. What did you want to talk about?"

I had planned on keeping my cool. I really had. But sometimes things don't work out like you plan.

"ImightbeleavingintwentydaysandI'mscaredandIdon'tknowifIwanttoleavehomeornot!"

There was a silence that hung for a few seconds.

"What?"

"I might be leaving in twenty days and I don't know if I really want to go to London and leave everyone because ifI do I might not see my parents for a long time and my Mom's sick and she might not be able to come to my concert and-"

I was cut off by an amused snort from the doorway, where Steve had caught the last few lines of my speil.

"Knock it off, would you, Steve?" I snapped bitterly. Steve was easily unfazed...I'm not incredibly intimidating. I think it might have to do with my size.

"I ain't gonna knock it off," he drawled, sauntering into the room, "Sounds like you've got a beef, Naomi."

"Yeah, I do. And I don't need you laughing about it."

"Hey, who says I'm gonna laugh? Come on, I'm sure I make a great agony aunt."

I rolled my eyes at this statement.

"I don't believe it."

"You never know till you give it a shot."

I looked at Soda for help, but he only shrugged.

"Okay," I sighed in defeat, "I'm sure you know just as well as everybody else that if I sing well enough in the competition, I'll be able to go to London. The thing is, I don't know if I want to go anymore. I mean, I'll really miss my parentssomething terrible, and I'm worrying that I won't like London-"

"Think about your life if you go to London." Soda said suddenly.

"Okay," I imagined myself singing to vast crowds, and learning from the best teachers, at a world renowned performing arts school, where only the best attended-

"Now, think what it'll be like if you don't."

I thought of myself continuing to take lessons from Shirley...even though she was only supposed to prepare me for the recital, I couldn't imagine life without her lessons now. I thought about how I'd graduate with my friends, and then...dead end. A missed opportunity that alot of people wish they could have.

"Yeah," I said, decidedly, "I guess you're right."

"Right about what?"

"About what I want to do."

"I don't know what you want to do," Soda argued, "I just told you what you can do to decide. I really don't know what you're going to do."

I got up to leave, and turned and looked at him for a second, sadness sweeping through me.

"Good," I said, quietly, "That's probably good."


---------> Sodapop's POV -------

"What'd she mean, good?" Steve asked real quiet, scrunching up his face.

"She meant it was a good thing I don't know what she's doing," I felt sick in the pit of my stomach, "Man, she's leaving. I know it, Stevie."

"Why would she want to go to London? It sounds...dumb."

"She wants to be a singer, Steve. This'll help her."

"Okay," he was quiet for a minute. I couldn't see him, because I'd looked away on purpose, but I knew he was watching me, "You said you didn't think about her anymore. For the past week or so," He was quiet again. I could tell he was thinking, "That wasn't true, was it?"

"Not...it's not that I don't think about her, but-"

"-but you're not hoping for her anymore," Steve finished my sentence, sitting down across from me, "Man, you can't give up so easy."

"No, Steve," I said, tired, "I didn't give up. I fought to the end. I really did. I just lost."

" 'I just lost' " He mimicked me, and gave a small laugh, "No way. No way does the Great Sodapop Curtis 'just lose'. "

This was tiring me, and it also wasn't making me feel better.

"Aw, come on, Steve-"

"No," he said, suddenly serious, "You come on. Look at you. You're gettin yourself all worked up over some little broad-"

"I aint getting myself worked up over some little broad,"I argued, "I wouldn't go after any girl if I thought she was just some little broad to get myself worked up over. I learned my lesson." I added quietly.

Steve looked confused, beforea light of understanding lit in his eyes.

"You still think about Sandy?"

"Sometimes."

"That means alot?"

"IfI ever think about Naomi, I just think about Sandy, too. I don't know, it's not like I want to. It happens."

"Listen," Steve said, like he was soothing an upset child, "You're still young. You ain't gonna be thinking about the same two women your whole life. Why don't you come keep me company at work?"

"It's my-"

"Day off? Yeah, I know, but you'd be thinking about them girls causing you problems again, and we don't need that."

"Sure," I said, walking to the door with him, "Hey, Steve...you know, you're pretty good at that. That advice giving stuff."

His eyes glinted.

"I wasn't lying when I told Naomi I'd make a good agony aunt."

"Yeah, yeah, ole' Auntie...when does your shift start?"

"About...about ten minutes ago." He stated nonchalantly, walking out the door.