Dedication: Heidi, for once again helping me with ideas when I have writers block.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.

Johnny looked down as he started walking down the sidewalk outside his house, wondering why his father didn't like the kids he had met. He hadn't even let him explain about them, tell him that they weren't bad kids. He glanced up briefly, feeling a drop of rain, then looked back down at the ground before touching his face and feeling a place on his cheek that was swelling and sure to leave a bruise. The pain of his fathers hatred and disapproval was still fresh in his mind, and he hardly noticed where his feet were taking him when he felt more raindrops.

"Great," Johnny mumbled to himself as he walked around his neighborhood. "I'm going to get soaked," he said, looking down at his shirt which was now speckled dark with raindrops. He'd never liked the rain, especially when it started storming because of how wet and cold it was. He looked around for something that would shelter him from the oncoming rain, wishing he had thought to grab a jacket, but saw nothing so he continued to walk, not watching where he was going. The rain continued, and didn't relent as Johnny hoped it would.

"Boys!" Johnny heard someone shout from up the street. "Come in, it's raining, you'll get soaked!"

"Awwwww! Dad!" someone said, and Johnny recognized the voice as being Soda's. "We're just getting started!"

"Don't want you getting sick, come on!"

Johnny kept walking along the sidewalk and saw three backs retreating into a house. He knew one was Soda, and one was Steve, but he didn't know who the third was, but he knew it was the Curtis' house, because Soda had said 'Dad'… Johnny looked back down the street, hoping he would see his father in the doorway, beckoning him back home… But to no avail; the door was shut and the car wasn't in the driveway. He couldn't go back yet, his mother wasn't home.

"Johnny!" someone said, and Johnny looked up from his feet where he had been counting his steps. "Why are you out in the rain?" The word 'rain' was drawn out, and Johnny saw Soda standing in the doorway of his home, soaking wet and covered in mud. Johnny started to worry a little, wondering if Soda would find out that his father had ordered him out and hit him.

"Uh…" Johnny said stupidly, not knowing how to answer.

"Shut the door!" Johnny heard someone say from inside the house, but it didn't shut. Soda turned his dead for a second and yelled back, "But my friend's out here!"

The door opened a little wider and a woman Johnny assumed was Soda's mother appeared standing behind Soda.

"Why are you out in the rain?" she asked, her voice kind and concerned.

"Well…" Johnny said, not sure of what to say, but he was unexpectedly saved by Soda.

"I told him he could come over, so he's coming over, right Johnny?" Soda said in a very loud voice, then came running out of the house and ran over to Johnny. "Right?"

Johnny smiled, glad for the excuse. "Yup! My dad said I wasn't busy so I could come over!"

"Come on and meet my parents then, Johnny!" Soda said, running back to his house. Johnny jogged behind him, and Soda stopped at the door.

"Uhh…" Soda said, looking around but not stepping onto the carpeted floor a few feet away.

"What?" Johnny asked, but the answer was clear seconds after he asked.

"Soda, did you not wear shoes outside again? And you're all muddy! You're going to get the carpet dirty, I just vacuumed today!" said Soda's mother, walking out of a different room.

"Aww, I didn't mean to, I just wanted to bring Johnny in out of the rain!" Soda said with a smile. "This is my mom," he told Johnny. "And mom, this is Johnny."

"Hello, dear," she said, then walked over to Johnny and shook his hand lightly.

"Hi," Johnny replied nervously.

"You must be freezing, being out in the rain!" she said. "Would you like some hot chocolate?"

"Uh…"

"Come here, dear, and I'll fix some for you," she said, leading the way to the kitchen. Johnny stayed where he was. "And Soda, go around the back and wash your feet in the bathtub!"

"Alright…" Soda grumbled, and headed back out the door, leaving Johnny alone.

He sighed lightly then walked into the kitchen. Mrs. Curtis smiled at him when he walked in. "You can sit, if you like," she told him, indicating a chair when she noticed him hovering uncomfortably by the door.

Johnny walked over and sat down. "Thanks," he said softly.

"It'll be ready in a minute," Mrs. Curtis said, putting a kettle on the stove, then sat down in a chair opposite to Johnny. "How come Soda's never talked about you before?"

"I just met him today playing football," Johnny answered, thinking that Mrs. Curtis was probably thinking of him as the lousy kind of kid that his own father had told him about.

Mrs. Curtis smiled. "Where'd you get that bruise?"

Johnny felt his cheek. "Playin' football," he answered, hoping she'd believe it. He tried to smile, but failed.

"The boys can be awful rough sometimes…" she said, but Johnny got the feeling she was lying about something. "There's the kettle," she said, standing up and pouring some water into some mugs just as Soda came running into the kitchen, this time with Steve behind him.

"See? I told you Johnny was here!" Soda was saying, sitting down beside Johnny.

"Wasn't my fault I didn't hear him!"

Mrs. Curtis set down a cup of hot chocolate in front of each of them, one for herself, and two extra's.

"Ponyboy, Darry!" she called, and two boys came into the kitchen seconds later and sat down in front of the two extra cups.

"Thanks," said the boy Johnny didn't know.

"Darry!" Soda said, after taking a big mouthful of hot chocolate that spilt down his chin. "This is my friend Johnny."

"Hi Johnny," Darry said in a friendly voice.

"Hi…" Johnny said quietly, thinking that maybe some people in the world would care about him after all.