A/N: S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. Since Ms. Hinton gave no name for Two-Bit's sister, I've named her Kay. Hopefully you aren't too confused. If you are, sorry. I wish there was something I could do about that, but there isn't.

The din of hail, rain, wind, and destruction had lulled us into a tense silence. Neither of us wanted to move, in case the tornado outside suddenly broke through the wall, or something, so we sat as still as we could. Finally, Pony's sneeze broke the tension, and I laughed, surprised by the noise. "Bless you."

"Thanks. D'you have a watch, Johnnycake?"

"Nope. Feels like we been here forever, huh?"

"Yeah. I wish the lights were on."

"Me too." I replied, though I knew both of us were wishing we could be at home. "What d'you think the others are doin' right now?"

"Maybe they're all hidin' in Two-Bit's bathtub."

"D'you know how gross that thing is? I took a shower there once and felt dirtier comin' out than I did before I used it." I smiled, though I knew neither of us could see.

"I dunno why he can't clean it; it ain't like his legs are broken."

"That's a mystery that not even Perry Mason could solve, Pony." My stomach growled. I hadn't eaten since lunch, and I leaned forward against my arms to muffle the pain.

"I'm hungry too." He said.

"I guess we could drink more water, but it'd be kinda hard to pee in the dark." That got us both laughing, even though it wasn't real funny. We needed to laugh; if we didn't, I knew we'd start crying.

"Y'know, of all the people I coulda been stuck with, I'm glad it was you, Johnny."

"I dunno what you or Steve woulda done if you was stuck here together." I didn't think it'd be awful, just awkward.

"We'd fight like two old tom cats. He doesn't like me." Pony retorted bitterly

"He likes you fine, Pony. He just don't get you is all."

"No, I think he hates me. I hate him, so he must feel the same about me."

"Why d'you hate him so much? It ain't like he belts you, or nothin'."

"He told Soda that he doesn't want me around anymore."

"Maybe they need to have time just for themselves, like we do."

"He thinks I'm a kid. Well, I'm not a kid anymore, Johnny. I'm almost as old as they are, and I deserve to be treated better." Pony can be real whiny sometimes, but I love him to pieces anyway.

"A few years makes a world of difference, Pony. You'd be surprised." That shut him up, and I could tell he was mad at me. I didn't mean to make him mad, but that's just how things go when you're thirteen. It still hurt, though. I hate makin' people mad at me.

The tornado siren wailed again after a long while, signaling the end of the storm. So, we crawled toward the bathroom door, grasping wildly for the doorknob. The scene outside was awful- trees were laying on their sides, buildings were damaged or ruined, and there was debris everywhere. A whole team of guys was cleaning up some damage at a nearby building, and Pony stopped to ask one for the time. "It's a quarter to five. Y'all better get home now. Wouldn't want your folks to worry." He said, after taking a swig from his thermos.

"We were there for almost five hours?" Pony asked incredulously on the way home.

"I guess so."

"Man, Soda's gonna be worried sick. You should stay over tonight."

"It's better than goin' home." I agreed.

The neighborhood looked a little damaged, but not a whole lot worse than usual. I was thinking about it as we walked in the door, finding everybody and Two-Bit's mom in the living room. "Oh, thank God!" She soon had us both wrapped in the tightest hug I've ever gotten, and I nearly turned blue. "What happened? We couldn't find y'all when the storm hit, and we were all worried somethin' awful." She handed us some cookies off a plate on the table.

"We couldn't get home in time, so we camped out in the library bathroom. We couldn't call anyone 'cuz the lines were out." Pony explained between bites.

"At least y'all had enough sense to get indoors. Soda kept thinking you might've blown away." Darry said, messing up Pony's hair. I sat down by Dally and Steve, nibbling on the cookie even though I wasn't real hungry anymore.

"I did not! Two-Bit and I were just having a discussion about who was more likely to blow away. If you'd have listened in sometime, you might've caught that."

"There was a tornado drill today." Pony interrupted, preventing an argument.

"Really? It's a little weird to have a tornado drill a half hour before an actual tornado hits." Darry commented skeptically.

"Johnny could tell you what it was. Go ahead, Johnnycake."

"I think it was actually a bomb drill." I mumbled, keeping my eyes low. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks the more I thought about it.

"That makes more sense." Darry nodded.

"I hated those things. Do they really think ducking and covering will work?" Steve asked.

"No, they just want you to calm down before you die."

"Keith, honestly! There are children here." Mrs. Mathews did her best to look shocked, but I could tell she thought it was a little funny, if dark.

"Sorry, Mom." Two-Bit grinned sheepishly. "I guess we'd better roll on home. I wanna see if anything's broke."

"It isn't like you'd fix it, even if something was, hon. You can barely keep your nose clean, much less the rest of our house."

"I thought that was your job!"

"Nope, I'm a barmaid, sweetie. Cleaning houses isn't part of that job description. If I wanted to do that, I'd be a regular maid."

"But you're a mom. That's the same thing, isn't it?" Two-Bit barely missed a swat from his mom's purse. "Okay, okay, I get it. Bye y'all!" He gave a halfhearted wave on his way out the door, and Mrs. Mathews and Kay shared a look before following him.

Eventually, the rest of the guys moseyed out too, and it was just the four of us. We ate the rest of the cookies for dinner, since no one wanted to cook, then each of us shuffled off to bed. I grabbed my favorite afghan and wrapped up in it as I settled on the couch. It had been a weird day, to say the least, and I was glad to be safe. My brain didn't get the hint about bedtime right away, though, because I kept thinking about what would've happened if there'd been an actual bomb. Would it be like those movies they show in school? Maybe we'd all turn Red after that. I hope not. I'd rather be dead than Red. I yawned, sinking into the couch cushions, and let my rambling thoughts finally put me to sleep.