AN: One year later. It's been too long, I know, but something sparked and I felt like writing this chapter. I promise I've got this thing planned out (I've had it planned out for awhile), so really, it's just about making myself update. Regarding the OC…he's only here to help Ponyboy—the story is focused mainly on Pony. Reviews are greatly appreciated, and thanks for reading.


The words left my mouth and my world changed. It was as if some celestial being had been playing with the remote control of my life and had, in a fit of boredom, changed the pacing of it from "slow motion" to "fast forward."

Before I knew what was happening, Sam was dragging me out of bed and thrusting my shoes into my hand. I had hardly pulled them on before he had pushed me out my door.

We ran down the street, our feet pounding and echoing across the pavement. For a moment, it felt to me that as if this was all I had ever known: running down the street next to Sam, taking deep breaths and getting no relief from the teasingly humid air. I felt as if I was running to forever, and in the face of so much urgency it seemed ridiculous that all I could think was that maybe I should start laying off the cigarettes.

We rounded the corner of a street and I felt Sam's hand grab my shirt and yank me in the direction of a car. He opened the door to it and looked at me quickly, a sign that I should do the same.

Without a word, Sam turned on the car and started driving. He was driving in a direction that I had only gone a few times, a direction that was away from Tulsa.

It didn't seem possible to me that in a manner of minutes, everything I had known had changed. My breathing was becoming more regular, my heartbeat was slowing down, and everything was getting fuzzier. My head was pounding and nothing was making sense to me.

It was strangely funny to me that in the past, when things got too senseless, I would run away. Now I had run away and things still weren't making sense. What do you do when your solution is your problem?

"Go back t'sleep, Ponyboy. It's alright," Sam said. I wondered if he had read my mind and was answering my question before I realized how stupid that thought was.

For lack of knowing what else to do, I followed his advice.

When I next opened my eyes, the sun was up, the windows of the car were down, my head was still pounding, and Sam was whistling.

I closed my eyes real quickly, just to check that this wasn't a dream and that I was still in real life. When I was sure about that, I felt that it was okay to politely ask Sam for more information on the situation that we seemed to be in. "What the hell is going on, Sam?"

He glanced over at me, a little surprised. "Hey, you're up, Ponyboy. Glory, but you slept a long time. Man, if I'd know that you were that tired, I wou-"

"What time is't?" I interrupted groggily. There was no clock in the damn car. For that matter, there wasn't a shower, refrigerator, or medicine in it, either.

Sam looked at his watch. "8:22." He went back to whistling, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As if we weren't sitting in a car in the middle of nowhere because we were in the middle of trouble that I didn't know anything about.

"Sam, what's goin' on?" I asked rudely. I didn't care anymore how discourteous I sounded.

Sam didn't say anything, but he shot me a pointed look. It was one of those looks that was supposed to have told me something, but I didn't get what he was trying to say and that just pissed me off even more.

"Dammit, Sam, if you don't tell me where the hell we are and what the hell is going on, I swear I'll go back home!" I almost shouted.

The words had left my mouth before I realized how stupid they sounded, but not before Sam did. He laughed long and unashamedly, while I sat beside him, silently seething. "Dangit, Sam, you know what I meant!"

Sam gave me another of his looks. "Ponyboy," he said quietly. "I think ya need to calm down some."

I rested my head in my hands, painfully imagining the yelling Darry was going to give me when I got home. If I got home.

"I need to call my brothers," I realized out loud. "Darry's gonna skin me for pullin' something like this. Oh, glory. When I said I wanted adventure I didn't mean something that would get me in trouble!"

Sam shot me a curious glance but didn't say anything. It sounded like he was waiting for me to elaborate. He could go on waiting 'til the cows came home, for all I cared. I was mad and annoyed and uncomfortable and in a bad mood, and even though I wanted to blame Sam for it, reason told me that it was entirely my own fault that I was in my current position – a fact that only made me more mad, annoyed, and uncomfortable.

"How can you have an adventure without getting in trouble?" Sam mused carelessly, sounding for a moment like an echo of Two-Bit. The windows in the car were down, and the wind rustled his hair. He lifted a hand to fix it, then shrugged as it messed itself up once more.

"Easily," I muttered. "Oh, man. I'm dead meat."

"Not yet!" Sam practically chirped.

I wanted to strangle him. He must have been able to feel the tension in the air, because he quickly said, "Look, Pony, we're about to stop at a gas station. You can call your brother from there. But there ain't no use worryin' about something before it's happened, right?"

He was right, and that made me still want to strangle him. Instead, I shook my head as he pulled into the station. He had hardly stopped before I had opened the side of the door and jumped out. I stumbled over to the pay phone, felt around in my pockets for a coin, slipped it in, and waited anxiously.

"Hello?"

"Darry!" I gripped the phone tightly. "Darry, it's me. Ponyboy."

He sounded surprisingly calm. "Ponyboy. Mind tellin' me why exactly we got a visit this morning from the Brumly Boys?"

Damnit. I turned and looked at Sam, who was stretched out in the car, eyes closed, face tilted towards the sun. How did he manage to not have a care in the world?

"Darry, I don't know, I swear I don't! I just—Sam needed someone in the night and I went because he reminded me of…of Johnny, and I fell asleep in his car and now I don't even know where we are, and I'm sorry, but—but, Christ, Darry, what do I do?"

There was bit of silence on the other line before Darry sighed. He didn't sound angry, though. "I don't know, Pony. You can come home. What am I sayin'? You should come home."

"I don't think I can."

"Then you shouldn't. Look, I know this sounds strange, Pony, but you've been restless lately, Soda and I have both noticed. I don't know what you need, but I think you're old enough to take care of yourself. Maybe this is what you need. I don't know, Pony, but I think you know best. Do you want to come home?"

Yes, I did. I regretted ever having left behind Tulsa and all its boredom. But somehow, I heard myself replying, "No."

"Don't then. Stay safe, Pony, but stay there with Sam. He's got a good head on his shoulders, and you're a good kid. Well," He chuckled a little. "Not so much a kid anymore."

His date with Jess the night before must have gone real well. I could hardly believe the words I was hearing. "I'm not in trouble?"

"Of course you are. You can't run off in the middle of the night and not expect to be in trouble. But for now, Pony, just… just do what you think is best, all right? I trust you." His voice suddenly sounded muffled and far away, and I realized that this wasn't the easiest thing for him to say.

"I…thanks, Darry," I said, incredulous. "I…I appreciate it. I'll try and…I don't know, I'll try."

"Stay safe, Pony. And call, at least every other day, and call as soon as you hit the nearest town." His voice resumed its usual gruff tone, but I knew better than to take it as unkind.

"I…I love ya, Darry. Tell Soda, too."

"I will. Love ya too, little buddy."

I was about to hang up when I heard him shout my name over the line.

"Yeah, Dar?"

"You get in an ounce of trouble and I'll skin you."

I nodded, satisfied, and hung up the phone. I stood there for awhile, staring at it, just contemplating all that had unfolded. Darry had just given me the go-ahead to do something completely unexpected. I was standing at a gas station, not even aware of where I was. Less than twenty-four hours ago I had been complaining about boredom, and now I wasn't sure if I'd mind going back to it.

I switched my gaze to the sky above me, where the sun was shining resiliently. My stomach growled, and I blinked, unable to take the brightness, and forced myself to look once more at Sam, who grinned at me. I took a deep breath, and then headed his way, casting one last glance at the phone and at the sun.

"You ready, Pony?" His crazy smile reminded me of Sodapop. I nodded mutely, and climbed in the car. He switched the nobb on the radio and started singing out loud.

I closed my eyes, and couldn't help but wonder, what had I gotten myself into?