Not—Part 7

Ponyboy's POV

Well, at least there was less tension now between me and Soda. I believed him now. Why hadn't I believed him before when he told me he hadn't known anything? But even though he probably thought he'd been real quiet, I heard him wince when I said sarcastically, "Sure," after he told me Darry loved me. Right. Because when you love someone, you lie to them for almost fifteen years, hollering at them all the time, and throwing them across the room when you come in late…

Then I was forced to reason with myself. Even though I was mad at Darry, it wasn't fair to accuse him—even in my head—with what happened that night. After all, when I came home from Windrixville, everything had turned out all right. At least at home. Of course not everything had turned out right. How could everything be right when two of our friends had died?

But the situation with Darry and I had been resolved, thanks to Soda. And I'd thought I'd figured out everyone's place in the family. There was Darry, the strong one, keeping us all safe and looking after us. Paying the bills, running the house, being like a replacement father. And there was Soda, the middle brother, the cheerful one, the one who always listened and tried to help out as best he could. Pulling our family together, resolving our issues, our happy-go-lucky ray of sunshine. And there was me. The baby of the family, the quietest one, the one they all looked after and took care of. The one they supported, wanted to go to college, wanted me to live the way they wouldn't have a chance to. Or that's who I used to be, anyway.

How did all this happen? I felt like screaming. Why did I look at those papers, anyway?

"Ponyboy, this isn't your fault, ya know," Soda told me suddenly. I was startled. How did he do that? "Mom and Dad should've told you from the start, but it still doesn't change things."

By now it was so dark that I couldn't see the expression on his face, but I guessed that he had an unusually thoughtful expression on his face. "Yeah. Why do you think they didn't?" I moved closer to him impulsively. Maybe I was starting to accept the facts like he was—we were still brothers. By not knowing for my whole life, I'd always grown up thinking he was my brother. Why stop now? Because of a piece of paper? Maybe that's why I moved. I'm not sure.

Soda sighed. He once told me he didn't like people who sighed all the time, because that meant they were stressed or depressed. He didn't want to ever be like that. I didn't want him to start sighing now. "I don't know. I guess they wanted you to grow up as much a part of our family as possible. Would you feel differently if you'd known from the beginning?"

I thought about this for a moment. If, my whole life, I'd known Soda wasn't really my brother, would we be as close as we'd always been? Would I tell him all my problems, and would he always help me fix them? Would Darry have hit me that night? Would Soda take me places with Steve even though it bugged Steve to have me along? Would the whole gang accept me when I wasn't "Darry and Soda's kid brother"?

"Yeah," I answered finally. "I think things would be different, but it's funny. I…" Did I like being lied to? No. Was I glad I'd been raised the way I had, like a normal part of the family? Of course. All in all, was it for the best that I hadn't been told?

Yet another question plaguing me as the train rolled slowly, constantly down the tracks.

Soda's POV

Ponyboy had been about to say something, but then he stopped. And when he didn't speak up, I talked for him, just to fill the silence in the boxcar. "I bet Darry is going crazy," I declared, "He's probably got all the guys looking for us. Wonder if Two-Bit's found out that I took his car yet. I wish there was some way we could tell him we're okay. Hey, Pony?"

"Yeah, Soda?" There was something weird about his voice. I couldn't quite place my finger on it, but when I thought about it later I knew what it was. He didn't sound angry, or hurt, or sad, or bitter, or betrayed. He sounded tired. Sounds strange, but it was the biggest relief in the world to hear his sleepy voice cut through the darkness. Sounded more like home.

"You know what I think? They should make a phone that you could carry with you," I announced for anyone who cared to listen. Only Pony was there, of course. But still.

"That's crazy, Soda," Ponyboy informed me, sounding exhausted but still answering my wild statements. It was nice to know he was still listening to me. For now. "What would the point of that be?"

"I dunno," I said truthfully. "Like times like this, I guess. An emergency phone."

Ponyboy laughed hoarsely. And then the best thing in the world happened. No, we didn't suddenly end up at home somehow. No, we didn't find out he wasn't really adopted. Ponyboy made a joke!

"Sure, Soda. A new phone for times like this, when you just happen to find yourself on a train with no idea where you're going, with your adopted brother." It was weak, but still. I laughed out loud just out of relief. Somewhere in there was the real Pony we were all used to.

And I was going to make sure he came back completely someday.

I had to.

A/N: So there you go, a nice quick update! A bunch of Ponyboy with a bit of Sodapop thrown in at the end? Oh yeah, before I forget: whose POV do you like in this story the most? I know there's been lots of Ponyboy, because after all this story is mostly about him. But I just like to get feedback. Please review!

PS: Thanks for the great reviews this story keeps getting. THEY ARE THE BEST.