AN: Alright, I'm answering the questions about their ages. Instead of the car crash happening seven months before Ponyboy turns fourteen, it happens right after Darry graduates at eighteen, so Pony's twelve at the beginning and is now thirteen.
Chapter 13
Somebody's shaking me, calling my name frantically. I struggle to pull myself out of the darkness and wake up with a gasped breath. Sweat is pouring down my face and my breathing is ragged. I clutch the bed sheets in a death grip, panting until my breathing goes back to normal. Soda holds me in his arms and Darry's standing at my bedside with a glass of chocolate milk. I chug it down gratefully and think about the difference between my usual awakenings. Usually Mr. Lilc would chain me up outside for a couple of nights after a nightmare. Yet here my brothers are trying to calm down.
"Sorry" I say finally as Mr. Harrison walks in sleepily, looking rather annoyed at the sudden awakening. Darry sits on the edge of the bed as Soda asks quietly,
"What happened honey? Did you have a bad dream?" It sounds so childish when he asks, but I nod anyway. "What happened?"
"I can't remember. I can never remember…"
"Do you have these dreams a lot?" I nod again,
"Y-yeah, since…" I can't make my mouth form the words 'since Mom and Dad died', so I say instead, "since the first night at the boys' home." Soda gently brushes hair out of my face and says quietly,
"It's ok, honey. I'll stay with you, you don't have to be afraid."
"I'm not afraid." I respond indignantly. Soda complies easily,
"Alright then, I'll stay here and you go to sleep."
"Sorry for waking you."
"Not a problem, little buddy." Darry cajoles. I blink at him in surprise. Little buddy is about as close as Darry comes to terms of affection. He's never called me that before, just Soda. Mr. Harrison mutters something I can't make out, but he gets a glare from Darry. "Go back to sleep, we've all got to get up and do some things in a couple hours." My cheeks burn for causing an inconvenience, but I nod off to sleep as Soda's arm is slung over my shoulders carelessly.
"What are we doing today?" Soda asks as he runs around, his plate of eggs and toast balanced precariously in his hand. He's trying to find his shoe. I finally get up and fish around under the couch, shoving the missing item at him with a smirk,
"Sit down for five seconds, will you?" He grins and rubs my head affectionately. I slap at his hand in annoyance, I'm not a little kid anymore, and sit back in my seat. I push the food around on my plate, wanting to eat it but knowing I shouldn't. If I eat too much after a long time of not having anything, I'll be sick all day. That's one of the lessons I've learned. I pick at the food and cover the plate with wrap, sticking it back in the fridge. Soda frowns,
"You gotta eat more than that, Ponyboy." He begs. I slip my shoes on and respond calmly,
"If you eat too much after not eating all that much for awhile, all you do is puke all day."
"Really?"
"Yeah" Darry answers, and then turns to me, "How'd you know that?" I raise my eyebrow and recite solemnly,
"Torture in the form of food deprivation, remember? Starve me for a week or two then make me eat a three-course meal. I'd be puking my guts out for days." Anger throbs in their eyes, but Darry motions to the truck. I prop myself up on the crutches and work my way out of the house. Darry and Mr. Harrison ride shotgun and Soda and I sit in the back. I recognize the district and my stomach sinks as we pull up to my school. What are we doing here?
"Darry, what're we doing here?"
"We've got to get your records, and see about taking some sort of test." He answers easily. I get out of the truck and notice that the kids around me look at my new cast with vague interest. I shoot them glares and they duck their heads. I forget that I'm not alone as I barrel down the hallway; none of the kids are stupid enough to get in my way.
"What's with that kid?" I hear Soda's voice ask. At least he's being subtle. The kid, a guy by his voice, responds,
"I don't really know. He's new around here, an orphan or something. At first we all thought he was a bit of a freak. Kids would follow him home; harass him and stuff, harmless fun. Then these eight kids tried to jump him, when he was done with them…they decided it's not so much fun. We all just try to leave him alone."
"Doesn't he have any friends at all?"
"None, he's…a loner. By the looks of it, he's a bit of a klutz as well. That's the third time he's broken his leg." I wait in the office for them; they both give me the 'we'll talk later' look. Darry talks politely to the receptionist and they send me into a room to take some test and to write an essay and a list of books that I've read. The last part takes the longest. I think my brothers and Mr. Harrison went out to lunch during the three and a half hours I was in there, I hope they did at least. I make my way back out to the office and hand off the materials. She smiles at me softly and we leave the school. I smirk to myself wryly as kids go out of their way to make room for me. The car door closes and Darry asks with a hard voice,
"Those boys, the ones that tried to jump you, what did you do to them?"
"It was a fair fight Darry." I plead, "There was eight of them, after all. I did break one kid's nose and I cracked a couple ribs…but besides that, it was just some painful bruising. It's not like they didn't get hits of their own in. Besides, a couple of them had older brothers who had a…discussion…with me the next day…" His temple throbs angrily and I sink into the seat in shame.
"Fighting isn't the answer, Ponyboy." He says sternly, and I nod. Soda drags my head to his chest and I curl up there until we stop at the next place. Darry's going for interviews. We wait in the car and Mr. Harrison tries to make some small talk.
"So, Ponyboy, how are you feeling today?"
"I'm alright." I answer, the small tingling sensation of pain is endurable and definitely not the worst pain I've ever felt.
"Just alright, Ponyboy? You need some-"
"I'm not taking anything, Sodapop. I don't need it. I've been worse without some stupid drugs that go to your head and leave you unable to count to five." I snap, feeling stupid suddenly after. I lower my head and say quietly, "I-I'm sorry…I don't know why I said that…you was just trying to help…" Soda forces a smile and says in a careless voice,
"Oh, honey, that's alright." I wish they'd stop calling me honey and baby and stuff, I ain't five. I guess they're trying to make me feel loved again or something. I guess that isn't so bad, but maybe they could stop doing that in front of other people. It's embarrassing.
When we return home, Darry cooks. Thankfully he cooks a lot, because the whole gang suddenly appears around dinner. Steve, Dally, Two-Bit, and Soda sit around a small table playing poker for cookies and cigarettes, since the state guy is here. Johnny and I sit on the couch watching them and talking softly. Johnny smiles,
"If you could pick one day to relive over, which one would it be?" We always ask each other theoretical questions. I lean back and say carefully,
"I think…Soda's last birthday." He looks at me curiously,
"Not yours?" I shake my head furiously,
"No way. Spent the afternoon in the ER." Johnny nods and I return,
"It there was one moment you could erase, what would it be?"
"Your parents wouldn't have died." I shove him playfully,
"Can't you stop being a martyr for one minute?"
"Like your one to talk. I wanna see the worst scar."
"If you show me yours." Heads snap, apparently they had caught that last part. My ears turn red and I mutter, "You guys are perverted." They chuckle and my ears go even redder. I decide to ignore them and turn back to Johnny with a challenging look. He bites his lip for a moment but finally nods. I lift my shirt up and traced a long jagged scar that was fading. It doesn't look that bad now. "I thought I was gonna bleed to death." Johnny looked at the line,
"He knifed you?" Heads turn again, but I'm talking to Johnny. I nod,
"He didn't get drunk often, but when he did…I almost always ended up in the ER for stitches or a cast or a slight concussion. I'm officially banned from climbing. I have a bad habit of falling." I roll my eyes and Johnny grimaces,
"That's not a very good stitch job right there." He comments.
"Sorry" I reply sarcastically, "I was kind of light headed and woozy, my stitching wasn't that great. You promised." Johnny nods and pulls the corner of his shirt over to reveal a small line. "I remember that." I say, looking at it carefully, "That was the first time you let me stitch you up, not exactly my best work."
"Well, it was better you than the doctors." He shudders and I burst out laughing. The gang looks at me in confusion until I choke out finally,
"Johnny, ain't it ever struck you as funny? You'll take a whipping with a two-by-four without a word, but God forbid anyone come near you with a needle."
"You aren't any better! I saw you looking at that needle like it may bite! You're just as bad as me!" Johnny argues violently. The gang is still silent. They aren't used to the two of us fighting, or talking too much for that matter.
"I never said I wasn't…but glory!" I chuckle and soon Johnny joins in. When we stop we blush because the gang is still staring.
"Ok…" Steve says slowly, and then the rest of the gang turns back to the game. I motion to Johnny and take his wrists in my hand, drawing along the slash marks nobody else noticed.
"You really got this desperate?" I ask, my voice full of pain. He whispers back,
"Don't…don't tell the others…I mean…you must've tried it too…" he begs. I say in a low voice,
"Razors pain you; rivers are damp; acids stain you; and drugs cause cramp. Guns aren't lawful; nooses give; gas smells awful; you might as well live."
"Where'd you get that?"
"Some chick named Dorothy Parker wrote it, it's called 'Resume'. I found it one day, and figured she was right. Besides…killing myself…it seemed like I was letting him win." Johnny says quietly,
"One of the few times your stubborn pride was actually useful." I grin and nod. Johnny smirks at me and says in a quiet voice,
"Hey, let's join the game." I smirk. Before I left we had worked out a way to win, it was technically cheating, but the whole gang did that.
"I don't know how, but those kids are cheating!" Steve exclaims, after Johnny and I had won everything on the table. We proceed to gather up all the candy and smokes. We sit down on the couch and start divvying up the spoils between the two of us. The gang looks at us until Soda asks,
"What're you doing?"
"Splitting it." I say simply, because it seems pretty obvious.
"Ponyboy, you better not smoke all those cigarettes or eat all those cookies in one sitting." I didn't bother to mention that I had given up smoking for the most part. I only kept twelve cigarettes for emergencies and Johnny gave me most of the cookies.
"Alright, Darry."
"Tell us how you did it." Dally demands. We look at each other and look back at him. I act the picture of innocence.
"Did what, Dally?" I look at him in confusion and turn to Johnny, "What did we do?" He shrugs unknowingly, but he's a bad liar and a smile escapes his lips. Dally smacks me upside the head and scolds,
"Just 'cause you're good at lying doesn't mean you should." I scowl at Johnny and say,
"Next time we come up with a brilliant plan, remind me to not let you in on it." He shrugs,
"Sorry Pony"
"We'll do better next time." I say confidently. Darry gives me a reproachful look and I sink into the couch and mutter,
"You guys let me deal. I…kind of…memorized where the cards were and dealt in a not-so-random way, so you guys got all the bad cards and Johnny and I all the good ones." I mutter. They stare for a minute,
"You know, I never thought somebody could do that." Two-Bit shrugs, then we turn as Darry calls for dinner, the whole incident forgotten. Except for Mr. Harrison, who's scribbling away in that little notebook of his. He's so silent I think most of the gang forgets he's here. They do that sometimes with Johnny and me too, not that we mind. I make it my silent mission to become endearing to the guy, so that he won't be able to split us up if it would make me unhappy. I will make him see my brothers are good at this. I'll be perfect, I promise myself; we'll make this work. I won't go back there. I won't.