Soda knocked on the door, waiting for Pony to look up from the drawing he was working on that evening.
"It's your room too, Soda," Pony said, sketching a mane on the horse he had drawn.
"Pony, I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have snapped at you," Soda apologized, taking a seat in the chair next to Pony's desk.
"It's really okay. You were right anyway. I'm sorry I brought up you being on either of our sides. I was a jerk. I talked to Darry, and I told him I know he isn't sorry he chose us over college. And I do know that. Stupid coach just really struck a nerve," Pony explained, as he closed his sketch book.
"I knew he did. So you're not doubting Darry?"
"No. It's just it's hard to accept because I feel like he must still have dreams, you know? I told him I was sorry for being so hard on him. I hated even thinking about what that guy said, and I took it out on Darry."
"Darry loves both of us, Pony. You just have to remember that. Maybe he does still have dreams, but that doesn't mean he's going to leave." Soda tossed his arm around Pony's shoulders.
Soda had always been one to comfort and encourage Pony, but he was finding that talking to his little brother like this also soothed him.
Pony was resting his head against Soda's shoulder when he spoke again. "Hey, Soda? Does the night I ran away still bother you?" he asked, recalling Soda's last comment during their argument.
Soda sighed before answering, searching for the way to say what he was thinking. "It does. I wish it didn't, and I try not to think about it too much, but that was a horrible night, a horrible week."
"No, I mean my fight with Darry, not the rest of it. I already know that's still bothering you."
"Well, I guess it does."
Pony lifted his head from Soda's shoulder and reached over to grab the Car and Driver magazine Soda had found a couple of days before. He opened it to the page where Soda had left the drawing paper. "I like this," he said.
"I mostly just traced it," Soda insisted.
"Still. I know you love cars. Everyone knows that. So you could trace it like you did here, then maybe color in the details or design any way you want to. See?" Pony gestured to the drawing and then the picture on the magazine cover before continuing.
"You have the outline, and you could make it striped or something here." Pony pointed to Soda's drawing again.
"Striped? Maybe it should have polka dots."
Pony laughed. "Or both," he added.
"I don't even know what I was thinking doing this. I'm not artistic at all. Not like you," Soda said, shaking his head.
"You don't have to be. Just put what's in your head on paper. It's not about being artistic or even good at it; it's just about being you."
Pony stood and picked up his sketch book, then unzipped his backpack. Soda stared at his little brother, amazed by the fact that Pony had brought him a little light of encouragement when he couldn't have possibly known he needed it.
Steve watched Soda's eyes drifting closed, as he stood behind the counter at the DX. "Sodapop, wake up!" he yelled, waving his hand in front of Soda's face.
Soda started, his eyes popping open. "I'm awake," he mumbled.
"Honestly, I'm worried about you, buddy," Steve said, touching Soda's shoulder.
As Steve stood at the cash register ringing up the drinks and snacks a woman and a little girl were purchasing, he noticed Soda didn't even tell him not to worry.
"He looks sleepy, mommy," the little girl commented innocently.
Soda gave her a smile. She couldn't have been more than seven years old.
The little girl spoke again. "You should go home, so your mommy can tuck you in."
Soda felt a pang in his heart at the thought of his mom. This little girl had no idea how right she was. He did need his mom.
"You should go home, man. There's not much going on here, and you get off sooner than I do anyway. TwoBit should be by soon, and he'll have his car. I'm sure he'll drive you home," Steve said, as the little girl and her mom walked out to the parking lot.
Soda yawned, while nodding his head.
"Are you still not sleeping well, or are you sick?" Steve wondered.
"Just not sleeping much."
The bell above the door dinged, signaling TwoBit's arrival.
"Man, can you take Soda home?" Steve asked.
"Sure. You okay?" TwoBit asked Soda.
"Yeah. Just tired," Soda replied, shrugging his shoulders.
Steve met TwoBit's eyes and shook his head, as if to say this is much more than just being tired. TwoBit nodded his head and looked at Soda again, thinking he couldn't remember ever seeing him look this exhausted. Soda hadn't slept much the week Pony had been gone either, but even that hadn't taken such a toll on him. TwoBit realized it wasn't even only his physical appearance that was concerning. A stranger could look at Soda and see someone who had maybe been up too late for nights in a row, but those who knew him well could look at his eyes and see they weren't the same. They used to dance with happiness and carefree recklessness. Soda's expression no longer portrayed the friend TwoBit had known for several years now. He could still see that Soda sometimes, just enough to know he was still in there somewhere, but it was like he was lost within himself.
"I'll get that before I go," Soda said, as he saw a car pull up by the gas pumps.
"Oh, no. I got it. You just go with TwoBit," Steve insisted.
Soda didn't even protest. He simply clocked out, then followed TwoBit to his outside. Steve saw them leave, as he cleaned the car's windshield and filled it with gas. He had lost count of how many times he'd asked himself what all was going on with his best friend. What concerned him the most now was that time kept going by, and Soda didn't seem like he was getting any better.
TwoBit followed Soda into the Curtis' house, fully intending to stay to take sure he managed to get some rest.
"You don't have to stay, TwoBit. I'm just going to sleep," Soda said, as he took off his DX cap and lie down on the couch.
Soda's eyes closed, as he fell asleep almost instantly, and TwoBit went to the hall closet to get a blanket. He draped it over his friend, then took a beer from the refrigerator before going out on the front porch.
"Hey, Pony," TwoBit called, as he saw his younger friend coming toward the house.
"What are you doing here, TwoBit?" Pony asked, walking up the porch steps.
"I brought Soda home from the DX," TwoBit replied, taking a sip of beer.
"Is he okay?"
"He's really tired. Looks like he's hardly slept in weeks. He's asleep on the couch now."
"Yeah, he doesn't know I know, but I wake up sometimes in the middle of the night, and he isn't there. It's caught up with him," Pony said, as he quietly entered the house.
Pony sat down on the floor near Soda's feet and pulled his science textbook from his backpack. He glanced at Soda's sleeping face and couldn't help smiling. Even in his exhausted slumber, Soda could make him smile. Pony thought of how his brother had done so much for him, and he wished he knew how to help him too.
Pony heard Darry's truck pull into the driveway before he went back to reading his text. He was turning a page when Darry appeared next to Soda.
"I know he was up last night at like three in the morning. I don't know for how long," Pony said.
"Yeah, he and I have crossed paths at odd hours lately." Darry sighed.
"He's going to be okay, Dar,"
Soda began moving and mumbling in his sleep, and Darry got closer, wiping away the lone tear that slipped down his brother's cheek.
"You have to keep talking to me, little buddy," Darry whispered, ruffling Soda's hair.
"He's Sodapop. He's always going to be okay," Pony said again.
Darry didn't know if Pony was trying to convince him or himself, but he longed for that kind of simplicity.
A few hours went by while Soda slept, but as he slowly opened his eyes, he first remembered early that morning. He blinked, thinking about how he'd pressed the knife's blade against his skin until it bled yet again. Soda squeezed his eyes shut, against the memory that only kept repeating itself. How could he keep doing this? He knew he had to stop, but he was scared he wouldn't be able to do it. Soda wondered what else he could do every time his skin crawled with the urge to cut. That feeling was becoming all too familiar, and it overwhelmed him, as his skin tingled with a pins and needles sensation that only disappeared once he cut again. He would get fidgety and look outwardly nervous, as he told himself he wouldn't do it again. Only then, he still would. Soda had grief, fear, and sadness still screaming at him, and the rest of what he was feeling, he didn't even know how to name. He was struggling to give these nameless emotions a voice, and he told himself when he managed to do that, then he wouldn't cut anymore. Soda couldn't deny that it helped numb him, but he also had to admit that this misguided attempt at comfort was ultimately making him feel worse. He had been trying to silence his emotions, but now, it seemed they were gaining strength. He felt guilty for getting caught in this cycle. Soda thought of his dad and how he would be so disappointed. When he had found that pocket knife in the closet, this certainly hadn't been his intention, and now, he wished his dad could tell him what to do. Like he had many times before, Soda thought about telling Darry. As far as he could tell, no one suspected anything. It hadn't even been difficult to hide since fall weather in Tulsa was rather cool. He wore long sleeves all the time, and no one even noticed. Soda was beginning to hope someone would ask the questions that would make him tell his secret.
"Hey, buddy. You're awake. Feel any better?" Steve's voice broke into Soda's thoughts.
"More awake than earlier," Soda said, as he sat up and glanced at the darkness outside.
"You're up," Darry stated, before taking the blanket from Soda folding it up.
"I'm trying anyway," Soda replied, yawning.
"Little buddy, you have to find something that'll help you sleep. That's getting out of hand," Darry said.
Yeah, that's what's getting out of hand here, Soda thought. "But I don't know what," he said aloud.
"We'll think of something. Is there anything you want to talk about?" Darry asked.
Yes, Soda thought, but he just shook his head.
Darry didn't seem convinced, but he didn't add anything else.
"You going to be okay to work tomorrow?" Steve asked, reminding Soda he was still there.
"Yeah, I should be," Soda answered.
"Okay. I'll see you in the morning," Steve said, looking like he wanted to say more, but he only patted Soda's back.
Darry met Steve's eyes with a questioning gaze, but Steve shrugged, silently telling him he still didn't know what else was going on with Soda either.
Soda strode down the sidewalk toward Darry's current work site. He had gone home for lunch and found that Darry must've forgotten his own lunch that morning. Wanting to do something helpful for his big brother, Soda had taken the sack lunch and started walking in the direction of the neighborhood where he knew Darry would be working on patching up a roof.
When Soda arrived, he spotted Darry hammering nails into the roofing, surrounded by several of the coworkers he had met before. "Hey, Darry!" he called, waving the sack lunch.
"Thanks, Soda! I'll be down in a minute!" Darry shouted back.
Before Soda could say another word, Darry stood and started to walk toward the ladder. He didn't see the bundle of roofing in his path, and he caught his foot on it. Darry saw Soda's face turn pale, as he toppled over, landing just a few feet from the roof's edge.
"Woah, you okay there, Curtis?" Darry's buddy, James, asked.
"Yeah, I think so," Darry answered, as he eased himself up. What a great thing for Sodapop to see, he thought.
Darry looked toward where his brother had been standing and saw that Soda had covered his face and turned away.
"Curtis, you better take your break, and go check on your brother. Looks like you scared him to death," James said, also watching Soda.
Darry quickly climbed down the ladder and ran in Soda's direction, only stopping when he stood right in front of him. "Sodapop, I'm okay. See? Not a scratch," he said, holding up both of his hands for Soda to see, then placing them on his shoulders.
Soda still stood, as if frozen, but he opened his eyes to look at Darry.
"Come on, little buddy. Let's get you away from here," Darry said, as he led Soda to the other side of the house, away from his coworkers' curious stares.
Darry sat down on the steps at the back of the house and pulled Soda along with him. His brother still covered his face with his hands and hadn't spoken a word.
"Come on, Soda. You're scaring me now too," Darry said, as he reached over to cover Soda's hands with his own. "Everything's fine, Pepsi Cola," he added.
Soda moved slightly to hold tightly to one of Darry's hands, and some color started to return to his face. "Please be careful, Darry. I can't lose you too," he said softly.
"I will. I promise," Darry said, as he saw a few tears begin to slip down Soda's cheeks.
Seeing this, Darry couldn't help but think that Soda cried so often lately. Yet, this time, he couldn't even hear the tears in his brother's voice when he spoke. It was as if part of Soda was still crying, but the rest of his usually happy brother was simply numb.