I don't know just how much time went by. I closed my bedroom door, but that's the only time that I moved off my bed. I went right

back again, curling up. I could hear Two-Bit and Pony's voices, but I reached out to turn up my radio. I would stop crying for

a bit, and then, thinking of what had happened, would set me off going again. Never being able to take pictures, thinking of new

things to shoot, and then feeling the satisfaction of seeing how they turned out after they were developed. It just made me so

sad.

There was no way, absolutely none, that I'd ever be able to save up for a camera like it. And, Darry couldn't afford to

buy me one.

I'd pulled the shades to my window, but I could still tell it was getting dusk outside. I heard Soda's voice now, too,

mixed in with the other boys. There were steps in the hall, and then, without knocking, the door opened. The light of

the hall came into the darkened room.

Soda left it open, and came over to the bed, sitting down on the edge.

He put a hand on my waist. I had my face turned towards the wall.

"Aw, Junie," he said, his voice taut with sympathy.

I didn't answer, and I didn't turn towards him. "I'm sorry," he said, softly.

"It's not your fault," I said. "No reason for you to be sorry."

"I'm sorry, just the same," Soda said.

I pulled myself into a tighter curl of misery. Soda reached over to turn the radio down real low.

"Come on out to the kitchen. I'll make ya some grilled cheese," he said.

"I don't want any."

"Come on, Junie," Soda coaxed.

"Uh uh," I said.

Soda pried me loose from my curled up position, and turned me over onto my back.

He gave me a long look-over. "Take a shower," he said. "You'll feel better. And, then ya can eat

somethin'. And, we can talk."

"I don't wanna eat, or take a shower," I said. "I just wanna lay here, okay, Soda?"

Soda sighed, and I knew he was feeling helpless. Soda is a 'fixer'. A nurturing type of person.

He did give up, for the moment, anyway. He went out, closing the door behind him. I heard the sounds of their voices

and steps, but I'd turned my radio back up again. I covered myself up with my fuzzy blanket, and tried to go to sleep.

I couldn't, though. My head was pounding in a headache. Probably from all that crying.

My door opened again. I covered my head with my blanket. Soda was back at it again. Here to try to coax me

out.

The mattress shifted, as he sat down. He reached over to the radio, and this time he turned it completely off.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Darry spoke. Darry. I'd been so sure it was Soda again.

"It's awfully dark in here," Darry said. "I'm gonna turn the lamp on. Alright?"

"I don't want it on," I said, from underneath my blanket cover.

"I know. But, I'm gonna, anyway," he said, and switched on my bedside lamp. I could see it thru the shield of my

blanket.

"I heard what happened," he said, then.

I was silent, pulling the blanket tighter around my head.

"It's a damn shame," he said.

"It's my own fault," I muttered. "Cause I'm so stupid."

I felt him trying to pull the blanket off of my face, but I clinched the material in my fingers, so that he couldn't.

"Will ya uncover your face, so I can talk to ya? Please?" Darry said.

I flipped the blanket from my face, looking up at him. His expression, in the lamp light, was solemn. He didn't look

angry, or anything, exactly. But, he looked disapproving, just the same.

"So, what happened?" he asked.

"Ya know what happened," I said, shortly.

"I mean, in details," Darry said.

"Two -Bit drove me to the skatin' rink, and I put it in a locker with my shoes-and then we skated, and when I

went back over there, it was gone," I said.

He was looking at me, as if waiting for something more. So I went on. "I asked the guy that works there, but he said

there was nothin' he could do-" and at this moment, I started to cry again. "And, I had the girls take me to the lumber yard,

and Two-Bit took me to the police station, and the cop there said the same thing. He says I shouldn't count on seein' it

ever again-" I covered my face with my hands.

"Alright," Darry said, sounding as though he was thinking. Considering. I couldn't tell, cause I kept my hands over my

face. "Cryin' isn't gonna change things, Junie. All it's gonna do is give ya a headache."

"I already have a headache," I sobbed, my chest heaving.

I heard him sigh. Heavily. And, then he stood up, and left the room. I heard him running water in the bathroom, and then

he came back in, sitting on the bed again.

"Take your hands down," he ordered.

I lowered my hands, and he mopped at my face with a wet washcloth.

"Here. You do it," he said, and I took it, as he reached over to take the top off the aspirin bottle and shake out two.

"Sit up."

I struggled to a sitting position, and he handed me the aspirin and then a cup of water. I swallowed them and he took the

cup back from me, setting it on the night table, with the aspirin bottle. He sat there, sort of leaning back on one hand,

watching me. I pressed the washcloth on my face.

"I'm so sad about it, Darry!" I burst out.

"I know."

"I'm so stupid! I'm like the dumbest person there is!"

"You did somethin' that wasn't so smart, maybe," he said. "But that doesn't make you stupid. Or dumb, or anything else," he said.

We sat in quiet for a couple of moments, and then he said, "I didn't think ya were goin' all the way down there. To the rink."

For a moment I blinked at him. And, then, I realized that he was basically saying that I hadn't had permission to go.

My eyes filled with fresh tears. "I didn't ride the bus," I said, in defense. "Ya said not to ride the bus-and I didn't, Darry!"

"I understand that. But, the last part that I gathered, was that you weren't plannin' on goin'," he said.

I couldn't believe it. He was upset with me for going! As if I didn't have enough to deal with!

"I wasn't, but then I got a ride from Two-Bit," I tried to explain. "And then-Katie and Rhonda gave me a ride to the

lumberyard-Katie had her mom's car-"

"Who is Katie?" he asked.

"Katie Ellis," I supplied.

"Alright. Well, it would have been okay, then, only ya should have run it past Soda or me first."

I began to get nervous then. I remembered Darry's threat in the kitchen that one afternoon.

"I wasn't unfindable," I said, using the word that he'd used. "Pony knew where I was."

Without realizing it, I scooted back a couple of inches.

"That's not the same thing as havin' permission, Junie," Darry said.

I have to admit, he wasn't hollaring, and he didn't seem real, real angry, and he was still callin' me 'Junie' and not 'June Marie'.

Still...

"Please don't be mad at me, Darry," I said, pleadingly.

"I'm not mad at ya." He sighed. "And, I'm not tryin' to make ya feel worse. I know how bad ya feel, about losin' your

camera. I just wanna make sure we have an understandin'." He paused, and gave me a long look. There was sympathy

and regret in that look. "I'll tell ya what, we'll talk about that another time. For right now, let's go out to the kitchen

and have some of Soda's grilled cheese."

"I don't want anything," I said.

"Uh huh," he said, and stood up. He held out a hand to me. "Come on."

"I can't eat, Darry," I protested. "My stomach-it's all churned up-"

"Well, ya can try," he said, and wiggled the fingers of the hand he held out in a gesture meant to tell me to stand up.

Outsiders