Hey everybody! Thanks for the reviews for this story and I know you're all anxious, so I won't keep you waiting!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders….we get it.
Oh and P.S.: I was watching The Outsiders last Friday (of course) and I decided to count how many times Dally says 'man' throughout the entire movie since I know a lot of people wonder about that! I got 38 times! If anybody actually took the time to try that, tell me!
Not Soda When He's Sick
Soda looked at Dally impatiently. He didn't understand why Dallas was practically fuming. Soda was sick, now even sicker thanks to Steve, and he deserved to be treated better because of that. After all, he had just requested a favor.
Johnny walked over to Steve, a little nervous to find out what had happened.
"Steve, why is Dally so upset?" he questioned.
"Well, genius Soda over here practically commanded him to give him a back-rub," Steve replied kind of irritably.
Johnny's mouth dropped and Steve nodded in response. Soda commanded Dally to give him a back-rub? Johnny couldn't believe the nerve Soda had. One time, Dally knocked a guy out at a candy counter because he was asked to move over. Johnny had been there and was in complete shock when he saw that guy out cold on the floor. And Soda commanded Dallas to do something? Glory, Johnny thought, why didn't I just stay home?
"I am in no way going to give you a back rub," Dallas snarled as he tried to keep his fists at his sides.
"Well, you already broke my eardrums and my back hurts, so that's the least you can do," Soda retorted.
Dally raised his fists and glared at Soda. Johnny was watching from the kitchen doorway, aghast. Dally happened to glance at him, maybe by fate, and for his sake, controlled himself. Dallas moaned and stormed out of the room. Soda looked up at Johnny and felt a pounding migraine come on. He was more miserable than ever and couldn't really take anybody right now.
"Johnny, did you get my blanket? How many times do I have to say it? C'mon, I'm sick!" Soda sneezed and looked up to find Darry's blanket.
"That's Darry's! Mine's blue! Shoot, Johnny…" he griped.
"Does it really matter? It's just a blanket," Johnny muttered, a little put-off by Soda's attitude.
"Yes it matters! Mine is the best and that's the one I want!"
Johnny went into the other room and looked through a pile of blankets. Couldn't this have been easier?
"There're about ten different blue blankets! Does it have stripes?"
"Yes! Glory Johnny, just bring it in! I'm freezing!" Soda demanded.
Johnny reluctantly handed him a striped blue blanket. Soda took one look at it and sighed angrily.
"Johnny, this isn't the right one! There is definitely a striped, blue blanket in there! This is plaid, not striped!"
Johnny had lost it. He had a great temper and he was patient, but this was pushing it. Johnny gave Soda a provoked look and let it out.
"Look, I don't care if you're sick or not, but this is no way to treat you're friends! Why don't you get off your lazy butt and find your own blanket because I'm not doing it! Shoot, I'm sure glad you don't get sick often and I feel awfully sorry that Darry has to take care of you when you do!" Johnny had never talked to anybody like that and he was even shocked when he marched out the door, leaving Steve stunned and Dally confused at all the yelling. Soda cringed and almost convinced himself it was a dream. He remembered the last time he was really sick and Darry stayed home for him. Soda had been kind of mean to Darry, but Darry had put up with it and tried his best. Johnny was right and Soda suddenly felt guilty. Nobody had put him in his place like that, especially not little Johnnycake, but he did. Maybe that was what Soda truly needed after all. He knew he needed that as all the painful memories of sickness flooded his mind.