Just for a second, I want you to think back to when you were, say, three or four. Your mother always told you how to act in public, right? Do you remember the three most repeated rules?

Look both ways, Don't talk to strangers, and Don't stare at people.

Well, everyone in school forgot that third rule.

I wished I could be invisible. The only time I've ever been so embarrassed was when Two-Bit and Soda were fooling around that time in church. I couldn't turn anywhere without meeting another pair of stunned, curious, scared, or even hate filled eyes. At first I thought it was the cuts and bandages and bruises all over my face and arms. I never did get a look at my own reflection -- I could style my hair by memory now and didn't need the mirror -- so maybe I really did look real bad.

But then I saw that Soc.

Only one of the three had shown up at school. He walked sort of hunched over, bruises and cuts covering his face and arms. He kept sniffing and shivering like he had a cold or something, and when I walked past him in the hallway, his eyes got wide and he nearly ran the other way.

I was so confused. Had I really gone that crazy? Part of me knew I must have, remembering how angry I was, how much I enjoyed hearing their screams after what they said, but another part was as bewildered as the kids who stared from across the room. It was so unlike me, to actually fight like that. I mean, I'd beat the hell out of a Soc if I had to, on self defense or something, but not because I was angry, and they didn't even throw a punch before I flipped out.

I tried my best to concentrate on school with everyone's eyes burning holes in my back, but as the day went by, I worried more and more about how I'd explain all this to Heather. Oh, glory, would she have a fit. But I still wanted -- no, needed -- to see her, so I figured I'd just have to deal with whatever reaction she gave me.

But I did decide to post pone it a little. After class I went to my English teacher with a question for my story.

"Mr. Jones?"

He looked up. "Yes, Ponyboy?"

"Am I allowed to say dammit in my story?" I was at the part when Johnny died and Dally flipped out. I thought I should use his exact words, but then, I wanted it to be school appropriate, too.

He looked a little surprised, blinking a few times. "Uh, I guess so…"

I nodded and smiled a little. "Thanks." I turned to go, but he stopped me.

"Oh, Ponyboy?"

"Yes?"

"I heard you were in a fight last night."

I bit my lip. "You heard right."

He had a slight smile on his lips, but his eyes were serious. "You're a smart kid, and I hate it when smart kids do stupid things."

I know, Darry. "Yes, sir."

"Just try to stay away from trouble, okay? I know you've had plenty of it this year."

"Yes, sir." Then I left.

But of course, I got stopped again on the steps outside. Two tall, dark haired boys in blue Madras stepped smoothly in front of me. "Hey," the first said, "You're the one that beat Jack and the boys last night."

I didn't deny it, just said, "I don't want any trouble."

"Well, tough, kiddo." the second said, "You got it."

"Just because you and your little greaser friends won the rumble doesn't mean we've forgotten about you killing Bob." the first continued, thrusting a finger in my face, " We're just as mad. And now we're even madder." he shoved me down the stairs, and I nearly fell flat on my face. "You better watch your back." Then they were gone.

I sighed, walking toward the hospital. Great, I thought, now I have Heather and the Socs to worry about.

-0-0-0-

As I feared, Heather was a little more than surprised. The door hadn't even closed behind me and she was bombarding me with questions, eyes wide.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." I tried to calm her, very aware of the jagged, crazy beeps the heart monitor was making, as I pulled up a chair beside her.

"Fine? Pony, your face --"

"Believe me, them Socs are a lot worse off."

She frowned. "Tell me everything."

So I did, from the walk home last night to the threat on the stairs. "It wouldn't have been so bad if it was just the Socs staring or something," I said, "But it was everyone, no joke. Kids I don't even know were pointing and whispering. The teachers noticed, too." I sighed. "I just don't get it."

She sighed, too. "I don't think they do, either. They've always seen you as the quiet, dreamy boy who gets good grades and hardly gets into trouble. Well, aside from the Windrixville Incident. But then seeing what you did to that one boy, knowing there are two others at home even worse off…"

"I didn't mean to," I told her for the third time, "I was angry. I didn't know what I was doing. I --"

"I understand." she stopped me, smiling softly, "I know people do stupid things when their mad. But they don't understand. They don't know the whole story."

I rested my head on her mattress. "When did the doctor say you can come home?" I asked, voice muffled.

"Three days." she replied.

"That's the best thing I've heard all day."

-0-0-0-

So, after three long days of constant staring, the whole gang was talking and joking with Heather over mashed potatoes. She was happy to be away from the hospital, but the doctors had told her that she should still wait another few days before she could go back to school. (That was the downside; another "few days" of a backpack twice as heavy as it should be. Joy.)

I almost had to force her to go sit down with Two-Bit and watch TV; she wanted to do the dishes. "You go relax," I told her, "Soda and I'll get them."

"I live here now," she insisted, "I have some chores to do, too."

"Not on your first night!"

"I should get used to it."

"Go sit down!"

"Yeah, please!" Two-Bit called, "I'm lonely over here!"

"Hey!" Steve, who was lounging on the other side of the couch, yelled, "What am I, chopped liver?"

"No, diced. Plus you're boring."

Steve smacked him hard for that, and then they were tackling each other on the floor.

"Guys, knock it off!" Darry laughed, "Hey, Heather, why don't you come over here and calm these two down?"

I smiled. "Go get used to it, then."

She rolled her eyes, but she was grinning as she walked away. Two-Bit shoved Steve back on to the couch, shouted, "Yay!" and swept a laughing Heather off her feet, twirling her around before setting her in his lap for the duration of the cartoon. Darry winked at me.

I grinned. Things were going back to normal.

-0-0-0-

Of course, Heather had to win one argument that day. When everyone else left and it was getting late, Soda and I stood and watched Darry and Heather arguing good-naturedly over who slept in Darry's bed.

"You need your sleep," she denied, "You won't get it on a couch."

"And you need your rest. You won't be comfortable on a couch."

"I'll be comfortable enough. Besides, I'm smaller than you. I'll fit better."

"You're our guest, Heather. I insist."

"And I don't want to be a burden. I insist."

"I honestly don't mind."

"I wouldn't feel right."

"Lord Almighty!" Soda threw up his hands, looking exasperated. "It's just a bed! Let the guest have what she wants, Darry."

Darry glared at him for a moment, then sighed defeatedly. "Alright, alright."

Heather grinned.

"But don't be afraid to ask for anything. I won't have my guest uncomfortable."

"Glory, glory." Soda muttered, heading off to bed, "That took much longer than it needed to."

Heather blushed. "Sorry."

Darry shrugged. "You could have just agreed with me."

She pursed her lips. "Let's not get into that again."

He laughed, following Soda down the hall.

I looked back to her. "You sure you'll be okay on the couch? I can go get you extra pillows or--"

"I'm fine, Pony." she gave me a tight squeeze, and her touch sent a shiver all through me. "Sweet dreams."

I stroked her hair. "I love you."

"I love you too."

I made sure she was okay, then headed off to bed. Soda was sprawled out, hogging the bed. I shoved him out of the way with a grunt and plopped beneath the covers.

"You know, I think you two were made for each other." he said.

"Why's that?"

"You're both dreamy, love books, and are aggravatingly stubborn."

"I never knew you could use a word like aggravatingly."

"Shut your trap."

"Sweet dreams to you, too."

-0-0-0-

It was probably two thirty when I wandered into the kitchen. I'd woken up hot and kicked off the sheets, then got cold again and pulled them back on, over and over again. I was tired of it and decided I needed a drink.

It was silent in the house, something I'm not at all used to. I set each foot down carefully, trying to be as quiet as possible, but somehow my every movement seemed amplified by the darkness.

I found a cabinet by memory and pulled out a glass, wincing when the water turned on and echoed in the silence. I filled it and took a much needed drink. I switched off the knob and padded over to the living room.

Moonlight flooded through the window, bathing the room in an odd, silver-blue glow. Everything seemed foreign somehow.

I glanced over and saw Heather on the couch. The light made her look even paler, made her hair shine. She looked like a China doll. I took a step closer. I'd never realized how small she was…

I had some weird thoughts then. I mean, I'd always known her as a strong, determined girl. But looking at her then, I saw her for what she was: small, defenseless, fragile. I'd almost lost her once, and I made a silent promise to myself that I wouldn't let that happen again.

I pulled the blanket over her and kissed her forehead gently. "Good night, Angel."

Yeah, nothing too exciting… hope you liked it anyway. But keep in mind… I have some evil plans for this… (devilish grin)

Please review!