A/N: New story, but this is one I actually plan on finishing. Thanks for taking the time to read it, and I'd appreciate it if you would drop me a line in a review. Thanks again; enjoy the story.

Disclaimer: The characters all are S.E. Hinton's and I'm not making any money off of them.


Chapter 1

After sixteen years, the only thing I have ever learned that I am completely sure about is that this life is overrated.

Fate doesn't look kindly on anyone. I used to think that she was nicer to the rich people, but now I know that in the end it's all the same. You live, you die, and that's that. And then the people in your life who befriended you are left to go on without you. Dying, when you think about it, is pretty easy. The hard part is living on.

When I was younger, I believed in life. I believed in life and in fate and in people, in sunsets and sunrises and nature. But things change. And slowly, I grew older and I started to see the world as it really is.

This is a world full of natural disasters waiting to unfold at any moment. Tornadoes and fires and hurricanes and cyclones. And if the natural disasters don't get you, then the people will. Everywhere you go, there's someone who could kill you.

This is a world where the poor and the rich are both unhappy, where the good and bad both die young.

This is a world where everything is nothing, and there's nothing that can be everything.

This world is one big joke, and I still haven't figured out the punch line.


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There was hot, humid, Oklahoma air. There was a piercing sun, and a windless, cloudless, day. There was an empty lot, a pack of crumpled cigarettes, a half – finished bottle of Pepsi, a pencil and some paper. And there was me.

Third day of summer vacation, and I was soakin' up every moment of it. The last school year hadn't been too tough, but all the same I was more than glad to be done with it.

I picked up a cigarette, twirled it idly between my fingertips, stretched out, and thought. The lot had officially become my thinking spot. I was pretty sure that I was the only one who used it. A few years ago, it would have been dangerous for me to be there, but things with the Socs, or the Socials, had cooled down. And the rest of the gang, who had used to spend a lot of time there, just wasn't as interested in it anymore.

In fact, the gang wasn't really a gang anymore. We still hung out, and we were still loyal to each other, but the truth was that everyone was growin' up and growin' apart. We didn't need each other like we used to.

That's part of life - growin' up and movin' on. My problem, though, was that I hadn't done either.

"Ponyboy!"

I looked up and saw Sodapop ambling towards me, hands jammed in his pockets. He threw me his classic movie-star grin. "Pony, where ya been?"

"Right here."

He laughed good-naturally. "Guess I should have seen that answer, huh?" He didn't wait for a reply, instead choosing to sprawl out on the ground next to me. "Glory, but it's hot outside. Why the heck have you been sitting here?"

"No reason," I told him.

I looked at Soda, spread out on the ground without a care in the world. Soda had changed, but only in the good ways. At nineteen, he was older and more responsible – the latter partly due to his and Steve's recent appointment as co-managers of the DX. But he was still the same laughing, smiling, charming, good-looking Sodapop that he had always been.

And hell, I guess I was still wishing I was like him.

"Hey, Soda, why ain't you at work?"

He raised himself up on his elbows and cocked an eyebrow – that old trick that I would never learn. "What, an older brother can't stop by and see his little brother once in awhile?"

I didn't say anything, just looked at him and waited.

He laughed again. I swear, Sodapop can't get through one day without smiling or laughing. But maybe that's a good thing. "Alright, I'll 'fess up. I got myself a date tonight with Carly. I left early so I could go get ready. But I figured I would stop by here and check up on my kid brother before going home."

"I ain't a kid, Soda."

"I know, but I just never get tired of sayin' that."

I snorted in response. "Well, I get tired of hearing it. Why'd you leave work so early? It can't be much later than two."

Soda cast me an incredulous look. "Two? Where have you been, Pony? It's half-past four!"

I was surprised, but not disappointed. What did it really matter to me if it was two or half-past four, anyway? It wasn't like I had anything to do. I shrugged and stood up to go.

Soda stood up, too. "Wait," he said. "Dontcha want your stuff?"

I looked behind us at the cigarettes, the paper, the pencils, and the Pepsi. "Nah," I told him. "I'll get it tomorrow."

"You sure it won't get stolen?"

I looked over the empty lot again. "Yeah. It ain't worth nothin'."

We started walking home, and I wondered if the words I had uttered referred to the items, the lot, or my life.


"Dinner's in the oven, Ponyboy, ya hear?" Darry meticulously combed his damp hair and made eye contact with me through the bathroom mirror.

"Yeah, I hear ya."

"There's chocolate cake in the fridge, but Soda made it. You know how he likes to put too much sugar. If he keeps going at that rate, he'll die before he even turns twenty." Darry put the comb down and studied his reflection. His eyes found mine again. "It ain't certain, but I'd be willing to bet that neither of us will be home before midnight at the least. Maybe one or two."

I nodded. "Okay."

"And after you eat dinner, don't forget to wash the dish you eat with. This house may not be clean, but we might as well make sure that the kitchen is." He finished examining himself, and smoothed out his shirt, a sign that he's done getting ready. I followed him out into the living room and waited for more instructions.

Darry pulled on his suit jacket and grabbed the keys to the car. That meant that he was leaving Sodapop with the truck. "Don't forget to turn the porch light off after Soda leaves." He looked around the house, almost like he was searching to see if he had left out any instructions for me. "Alright Ponyboy, I gotta get going."

"Have a good time tonight. Tell Jess I said hi."

He gave me one of his rare grins, one of the ones that made me glad that he and I got along now. "Thanks Pony. She'll be glad to hear it." He opened the door and paused a moment before he left. "It's going to be a big night." The smile on his face communicated just as much as the words he had said. He nodded to me a final time, and then left.

As if on cue, Sodapop ran out. He opened the key drawer and groaned. "Aw, blastit, Darry got to the keys first. Guess that means I'm stuck with the truck." He grabbed his jacket and hurried out the door. As he left, he shouted a "See ya, Ponyboy!" over his shoulder.

The empty house reminded me of when Soda and Darry were both in high school and would double-date together. I would always be left at home, watching out the window as my two older brothers went off to have a good time.

Even though it was a step back in time for me, it marked a big progression for my brothers. Darry, after all his tendencies to overwork and to close himself off so that no one could reach him, was in the middle of a serious relationship with a nice girl. And Soda seemed to finally have found himself a girl who appreciated who he was.

I was happy for them.

I sat down on the couch and turned on the television. It was a Friday night; there had to be something decent on.

I had just gotten comfortable when I remembered that I needed to go outside and turn the porch light on. I groaned at the thought. It wasn't that I had any particular aversion towards the porch light, it was just that I sure as heck didn't feel like getting up, especially not to go outside into the heat.

But as I stepped outside to do what Darry had said, I realized something. I was happy for my brothers – Soda finally finding love and a promotion at the same time, Darry possibly on the verge of getting himself a wife – but it felt like everyone else was moving ahead in life, and I wasn't. Even Two-Bit and Steve were going forward. Two-Bit had finally graduated high school and was thinking of looking for a job, and Steve had moved out of his parent's house and was living on his own.

But me – I was standing still, like the thick, humid, summer air. Life was passing me by.

It was nights like this that made me wish that things weren't the way they were, and nights like this that reminded me that I couldn't do anything about it.