Chapter 6: Truth be Told (Darry's Point of View)

"I'm so sorry, Darry. I'm so sorry for everything. For what I've done. For what I've put you through. And the boys…God the boys will never forgive me." Mom cries, burying her face into my father's chest.

"The boys won't know. No one will ever know. Okay? Look at me. It'll be okay. I forgive you. It'll be okay." Dad whispers. I sit up in bed and stare at my hands. It was just a dream. Well, no, it's wasn't just a dream, but a memory. I was eight, old enough to know something was wrong. I was standing outside my parents door, going to ask them what was for dinner, but I stopped when I heard my mother crying. It always scared me to see her cry, but instead of turning away, I listened. I was worried. But an hour or so later, we all ate dinner, and everything seemed fine. Mom seemed happy. Happy as usual, like the conversation never happened. That was when she told us she had to visit her aunt. Her aunt was sick and she needed to take care of her. She told us she would be gone for a while, until her aunt got better, and then she'd come home. And that was it. And when she came back, she looked tired, but she was happy as usual. Maybe her smile was a little forced, but she was normal.

"I didn't tell you, because your mother. She didn't want me to tell."

I remember those words now and I can nearly stand it.

"Didn't want to tell me what?" I want to scream. "That we have another brother! That you had another son! Why would you keep that from me?" But I can't yell that. Because he's not hear to listen or answer. It just doesn't make sense. I get up out of bed and go to the kitchen, noticing it's only three in the morning. Luckily, last night, Pony and Soda were already inside, and they didn't question why I was out so late. I could tell from Soda's look that he didn't buy the 'working late' note, but he didn't ask.

I make some coffee and sit down at the kitchen table. I think back to yesterday. How stupid I must've seemed. I didn't even tell the kid my name. Not that he asked, or cared to know, but I should have at least told him. It seems easier to take in his features now that I'm back at home. He looked a little like Soda, and he had greenish-grey eyes (not blue) like Pony, but other than that he didn't look much like us. Not at all like dad, but sort of like Mom. Sort of like someone else too if I could only put my finger on it. God that blond hair of his was something else. Only Dally had hair that blond that I knew of. I run my fingers through my hair and sip my coffee. How could my parents do this to me? To us?

Part me wants to forget about it. I have a lot to deal with already with Soda and Pony. So many bills to pay. The funeral wasn't even paid off yet. But then I think about that kid drinkin' and cussin' like he was. That's not normal. And his…Kate. Kate was something else. Not the kind of guardian any kid should have. I wonder how she managed to be a foster parent. There was a familiarity about her though. I'm not exactly sure what it was, and quite frankly, I don't want to know. I'm not sure how many more familiar things I can take.

Dally's Point of View

I'm a good liar and a good actor, and normally this wouldn't bother me at all, but I like Darry. Him and I have been friends for quite a long while, and I don't like keeping' secrets from em'. Especially not with all the shit he's going through right now, but I don't know what I'm supposed to say. I don't want things to change between us, and I know if he knows about this, things will change.

Damn my father is a jackass. The more I think about him, and this whole situation, the more I hate him. I hated him before, but this time he crossed the line. This time, it's over. He's made me lie to my friends, and for that, I'll never forgive him.

Pony's Point of View

It's seven in the morning, and I'm getting ready for school. Soda has already left with Steve, and Darry is making breakfast. He looks like he didn't sleep at all last night.

"You finish all your homework last night?" He asks.

"Yeah." I answer. It's partly-true at least. I didn't finish my math, but everything else was done.

"Sorry I wasn't here last night to help you." He states. I shrug. I know he's just trying to hold a conversation, but I'm not exactly a morning person. He'd probably have more luck holding a conversation with a brick wall.

"You doin' anything after school?" He asks.

"Track." I answer, sitting at the table and eating chocolate cake. "It ends at four. Then, Johnny and I will probably hang out."

"Okay, just uh, make sure you're here by nine." He states. Nine is really early, and normally I would complain, but I'm too tired to deal with it.

"Okay." I answer instead. "How was work?"

"It was long. As usual. But it's okay." He states, sitting down across from me. "Do the dishes when you get home, okay?" He tells me. I nod.

"Are you working late tonight?" I ask. He hesitates, but shakes his head.

"Nope. I'll be home around six." He answers. I look at him and know that he's telling the truth. It's so painfully obvious when he lies.