On the Wrong Side
Chapter 3

Disclaimer: This work of fan-fiction is not intended for personal profit. All characters utilized herein which are not creations of myself belong to S. E. Hinton.

Unfortunately for Ponyboy, cars were swift conveyances, and the one time Ponyboy wished it took longer, even in winter, to get home, it was almost too short. The three of them were already piling out of the car and walking up to the Curtis house. Ponyboy reminded himself he'd have to act normal, be normal, in front of Darry and everybody and concentrate on quadratic equations and other boring math stuff.

He brought up the rear as Two-Bit swung the screen door wide open so Nicky could catch it. Two-Bit banged once on the front door and then bellowed, "Cavalry comin' in!"

The three of them then went inside. Sodapop stuck his head out from behind the stove and said, "Hey, there. Ponyboy, Dar phoned over and said for me to cook 'cause he'll be runnin' late. He says, and I quote, 'the genius that decided to build houses in winter because he thought it'd save money on labor and materials didn't figure on higher workplace accidents 'cause of it.' I guess that means one of the guys on the project got laid up in the hospital and everybody else had to work harder to make up for it."

A shiver of fear ran through Ponyboy as he wondered what it would be like seeing Darry, his tall and proud older brother, lying in a hospital bed.

Sodapop was rambling on, though. "Me, I'm here since the boss closed the DX early. Practically nobody was comin' round for gas." He tilted his head slightly at Nicky. "So anyway, new fella, what's with you?"

Ponyboy replied, "This here's Nicholas Westlake, the guy I gotta tutor in math."

"Hi! I'm Sodapop, by the way. Pony told us a little about you, Nicholas. Whyn't you guys all just get started doing whatever? I'm gonna be a bit busy. Two-Bit, get your butt over here and help me for once and don't distract Ponyboy. Dar's keepin' an eye on his grades again."

With the expression of a born martyr, Two-Bit resignedly trudged over to the kitchen and began making a big production out of holding the vegetable strainer for Sodapop. Meanwhile, Ponyboy gestured Nicholas over to the table, and they silently sat down and began hauling out their math books. Nicky brought his chair a bit closer to Ponyboy's, so they could easily see each other's work.

As they began working on the assigned homework, plus the suggested extra credit problems (Mrs. Thomas had looked pointedly at Nicholas when she said they were a good way to pull up lower grades), it was clear that Nicky had a fairly decent grasp of most of the material but got stuck when questions threw a bit of a curve ball.

However, Ponyboy's concentration was shattered when Nicky's leg brushed against his as he leaned over slightly and said, "Hey. You know how to handle this one where we need to complete the square?"

Ponyboy's heart leapt into his throat, and his mouth went suddenly dry. Licking his lips nervously, he said, "Um, y-yeah, here's how I did it…"

Hoping that Nicky hadn't noticed his sudden stammering, Ponyboy quickly began explaining the answer. Deciding he needed to talk about something, after Nicky finished writing the answer down, he said, "So you've lived in Tulsa your whole life?"

"Yeah."

"What do your parents do?"

"Well, Mom worked as a teacher – she taught third grade. I lived with her over in the West End until she died a few years ago. Then Dad took me in and I live downtown with him. He owns a shop."

"So what do you do when you're not in classes?"

Nicky brightened up a bit. "I've got a guitar. Been playing since I picked one up when I was four years old. I'm pretty good now; some friends of mine started a band with me and we play together a lot."

Even as Ponyboy smiled at Nicky's enthusiasm, he couldn't help but get the feeling Nicky was hiding something. He said, "Well, I read a lot and I'm going out for track. But we better get back to this homework or Mrs. Thomas'll have a fit."

The next hour or so went on like this, until the rush of cold air entering the house brought the two of them out of their quiet back-and-forth over the assignment. Two-Bit bellowed, "Relief! Relief, I say, from the slavery of cooking!"

Darry's response was a deep chuckle as he shut the door, then pulled off his shoes. He said, "Well, I take it Sodapop roped you into helping do the cooking?"

"Yep. Now I'm done with that part." Two-Bit looked out at the last vestiges of the twilight and muttered, "Damn. I heard it was gonna snow tonight."

In a louder voice, he announced, "I better get back so my mama doesn't worry 'bout me or Grace."

Scattered goodbyes went around the room as Two-Bit banged the door shut. Not long after, they heard the rumble of the Plymouth's engine, and Sodapop hammed it up as he breathed a sigh of relief. "Imagine push-startin' a car like that with potentially ass-wounding ice on the roads."

Darry gave Sodapop the hairy eyeball, then turned to the table and said, "Hi there. Sorry for ignorin' you two earlier. You're the Nicholas Westlake guy I heard Ponyboy say he was gonna tutor in math?"

Nicholas got out of his chair, and as he did so he looked like he was going to extend his hand to shake, then seemed to do a double-take. Ponyboy suddenly felt a flare of something in his chest as Nicky's eyes seemed to be drinking Darry in.

Nicky spluttered, "Glory, Ponyboy, you didn't say anythin' about having a bouncer for a brother!"

He hesitantly stuck his hand out to shake, and Darry took it briefly as he said, "I don't do that kinda thing. My name's Darrel Curtis."

Nicholas seemed to have realized his faux pas as he said, "Sorry 'bout that. It's just, you're so tall."

Darry shrugged off the incident, saying, "Forget it. Anyway, 'case you weren't introduced, the fella in the kitchen makin' our food look all funny is Sodapop."

"He told me earlier," Nicky said. "Most people call me Nicky. So, what do I call you?"

"Calling me 'Darry' is fine. I'm Ponyboy's oldest brother, and Sodapop's the middle brother. It's gettin' on near five-thirty now, and I think Sodapop's about done the cookin'. We could squeeze you in for supper, but—"

Nicky looked a bit upset. "Oh, rats! Five-thirty? I gotta go. I'm supposed to, um, help the old man out at home today, and he said to be home by six. Sorry. I gotta run. Ponyboy? Thanks for the help and I'll check in with ya tomorrow."

As the guy gathered up his books and hurriedly got ready to leave, Darry said, "Whoa, whoa, easy there! It's pretty cold out there, and it's gettin' dark. Won't be safe out there, either from the cold or from anybody lookin' to thump you. I'll give you a ride. Won't be but a few minutes. Ponyboy, Sodapop— you go ahead and eat."

Ponyboy couldn't quite work out the emotions that flickered across Nicky's face. He seemed almost ashamed of something. Or worried.

Finally, Nicky nodded, and the two stepped outside. Ponyboy finally shrugged to himself, at least satisfied that he'd finally figured out Nicky's eye color.

He had hazel eyes.

Hazel was a nice color.

III

When Darry came back in the promised fifteen minutes, he seemed to have fallen into a bit of a brown study, Ponyboy thought. Darry had quickly spooned food onto his plate and begun catching up, without a word to either of his brothers. Ponyboy was just finishing, slowly washing down each bite with his Pepsi.

Darry spoke as Ponyboy was in the middle of his sip from his Pepsi bottle. "Say, did you know your buddy's dad owns a place called the Dragon's Den?"

Confused, Ponyboy swallowed, and then it clicked as to what Nicky was being a bit evasive about. Nicky must not have wanted Ponyboy to know about his dad owning a nightclub or some place like that. He put the bottle down, and said, "Um… should I know about that place? Is it a nightclub or somethin'? Honest, Dar, I wouldn't go there if you said for me not to go. Oh, um… Nicky's not really my buddy. Sort of."

But you liked his eyes. And you got jealous when he stared at Darry for a sec.

Irritated, Ponyboy squashed that train of thought, reminding himself that he couldn't go thinking of Nicky like that.

But Darry was replying. "Well, it's definitely not a place I'd like to see you bein' at. Said he plays in a band in the bar, that's how he earns his keep – though I had to practically drag it out of him about his band. So at least he doesn't seem the type to take advantage of his dad and get drunk all the time. Decent head on his shoulders that way, at least."

Ponyboy, suddenly seeing what Darry might be nearing at, blurted, "Darry, don't make me stop meetin' him. Mrs. Thomas'll be pretty upset if I can't tutor him."

Darry seemed a bit bowled over. "Whatever made you think that? As long as he comes over here or you tutor him at school, I'm happy. Just better to be safe than sorry what with the social workers makin' noises a few months ago about takin' you and Soda away from me."

Ponyboy's stomach twisted, this time in memory of the feeling he got when he read the article in the paper. That hadn't been a fun experience, wondering if the stories about boys' homes were true.

He mumbled, "Okay. Sorry, Dar."

He perked up a second later, saying, "Hey. How was my math? Good, huh?"

Darry smiled. "You must think I'm psychic. I didn't have a chance to more than glance at it before I had to drive Nicholas back. But I didn't see anything too badly wrong, so I guess you're on the right track. Let me have a closer look at it tonight, and then you can explain it to Nicholas if he got anything wrong. All right, little buddy?"

Ponyboy grinned. "Okay. Hey, Soda, where's your head?"

Sodapop was clearly daydreaming, but came back to himself when his name was called. He looked down at his soggy carrots, sighed, forked a few into his mouth and chewed. Then he said, "There was a bit of a slow period around noon today, and I was hopin' the boss wouldn't come by and chew Steve and me out for lounging. But right around then, the most beautiful girl in a few weeks, I swear, came by the DX, and it turns out we was at the junior school together. And boy howdy, did she become a knockout, Dar. Get this, okay? Her name's Dylan, and she even says you spell it D-Y-L-A-N. Not D-I-L-L-O-N."

Ponyboy couldn't help himself. He laughed loudly and had to hold the table to support himself.

Darry guffawed, as well. After he was able to get a word out without chuckling, said, "So, she's decided to just call herself that? A guy's name?"

"Well, yeah. See…" Sodapop's voice got really confidential as he said, "Her real name's Emily Hackman. But she's this huge hippie groupie, man. She showed up in a VW Beetle, for cryin' out loud. I'm not joking, Dar."

Ponyboy just shook his head at the craziness of some girls. He chewed the last of his own carrots, then began clearing the table. "Hey, Darry? I'll get you that homework just after I put these in the sink. You want me to wash up?"

"Yeah. Get me that homework and I'll look it over while you clean the dishes and such. I'll bring you my plate when I'm finished. Get Soda's plate if he's done. And you, Soda, get your head outta the clouds; you take up with a girl like that and next thing you know she'll make you dress funny, like with those weird Navajo jackets and sandals, or something."

Sodapop's answer was a cheeky grin as he half-heartedly flipped a playing card at Darry. Ponyboy'd seen him pull the pack of cards out of his shirt as he cleared away the dishes and utensils.

Darry, picking up the card from the floor, said, "Now, Sodapop, I'll play poker with you later but I ain't gonna stand for you cheating at it. You save that for Steve."

Ponyboy smiled to himself as he ran the hot water while reaching for the dishcloth. It was good to know things were okay and normal. At least in his family, for that night.

Author Note:

I'd like to thank Misfit Greaser for checking this chapter for characterization and allowing me to use his OCs and elements of his fic. I'd also like to thank both mars on fire and Marauder and the Q for their beta work, and Artemis Rex for allowing me to borrow the name of her OC.

zevie's review has prompted some changes in this chapter. :)