So, this is technically my third update today. This is the most I've done in a while. You guys should feel lucky. ;) I'm updating today because I'm in such a good mood! You all should know that when I'm in a good mood, I update. (hint . . . reviews put me in a good mood) I got a couple more reviews earlier, and I'd like to say thank you to those who reviewed! It honestly does make my day reading those. :) Enough with me, enjoy chapter three. :)

"Are we doing the right thing?" Mrs. Curtis asked her husband, watching as the worn out asphalt passed by the couple. Mr. Curtis squeezed her hand gently.

"What do you mean darlin'? Of course we're doing the right thing. It's what Johnny wants," he answered. Mrs. Curtis sighed softly.

"I know, but how do you think his parents are going to react? Something is telling me that he wasn't even supposed to know," Mr. Curtis merely shrugged.

"I guess we'll find out," he answered. The two stopped outside the small house. Each of them shared a quick glance; Mr. Curtis looked emotionless while Mrs. Curtis looked eager and anxious. "Ready to do this?" she nodded her head, and the two approached the old, dirty door.

XxXxXxX

Mr. Cade answered the door, and from the way his words slurred together, it was obvious he was drunk.

"What the hell do you two want?" he snarled, taking a sip from his aluminum can. Mr. Curtis stepped forward and straightened out his back to appear taller.

"We're here on Johnny's behalf," he began. Johnny's dad chuckled evilly.

"What'd the little shit do now?" Mr. Cade asked.

"He didn't do anything," Mrs. Curtis spoke up, defending the poor boy. "But we came to talk to you two. Is your wife home?" Mr. Cade rolled his eyes and sighed loudly.

"Patricia! You've got company!" he shouted into the house. Mr. Cade gave them one last look before walking away from the door. Both of the Curtis parents stood there awkwardly. Moments later, a tiny woman appeared in the door. She didn't look any nicer than the man.

"What can I help you two with?" she asked rudely. Mrs. Curtis opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. "C'mon, now, I don't have all day." Mr. Curtis cleared his throat and spoke up.

"Johnny mentioned something to us about wanting to find his real parents; he heard your husband say he was adopted," Mr. Curtis explained. Patricia stared at both of them without making a sound.

"Stay here. His real mother gave us their address. God only knows why," Mrs. Cade mumbled. "Now, I'm givin' you this only so you'll get off my property." She walked away silently. Mrs. Curtis stared at her husband. The feeling of being uneasy was etched onto her face.

"Remember, we're doing this for Johnny," Mr. Curtis whispered.

"Patricia, what the hell did 'em salesmen want?" they heard Mr. Cade call.

"Richard, they ain't salesmen. They came for Lucille's address!" Patricia shouted back.

"The hell they want Lucille's address for?"

"Somethin' about Johnny wantin' to find his real family. Can't blame the shithead. I'd want to get away too if I was unwanted," she called back. Moments later, Patricia returned with a slip of paper. "Here . . ." she said, shoving the paper towards Mr. Curtis. "This is their address as of a couple months ago. Dunno why she kept sending it." The last part was said so quietly it was hard to hear. Mrs. Curtis glanced at it before looking at Johnny's mother.

"Thanks a lot, Patricia," she smiled. Mr. Cade merely rolled her eyes.

"What you guys' names?"

"I, uh, I'm Darrel, and this is my wife, Barbara," he answered. Patricia observed the two and slowly backed out of the doorway.

"Is it all right if Johnny spends the night with Ponyboy?" Barbara asked. Mrs. Cade looked at her funny and shut the door in their face. "Well . . . She was a nice one, wasn't she?" she asked sarcastically. Darrel turned on his heel and began heading home. The whole way he stared at the tiny sheet of paper.

"Johnny is originally from Newark, New Jersey?"

XxXxXxX

Johnny and Ponyboy sat at the table together. Both of them stared at the address on the paper intently.

"I wonder what it's like on the East coast," Pony wandered aloud. Johnny shrugged his shoulders and picked up the pencil. "Do you want me to help you?"

"Would you?" Pony nodded his head happily and smiled.

"'Course I would. What do you want to say to them?" Johnny shifted towards the blank sheet of paper and thought hard. Finally, it became clear to him what he wanted to say.

Dear, Lucille,

I dunno if you remember me, but it's me, Johnny. I found out the other day that you're my mom. My old man said I was adopted. How come? How come you gave me up?

"Johnny! You can't just say that right away!" Pony exclaimed, reading over his friend's shoulder. Johnny rolled his eyes and erased.

"What should I say?" he asked curiously. Pony took the pencil and paper away from his friend.

"Tell me what to write," Ponyboy commanded. Johnny nodded and listed off a bunch of stuff he wanted to write. A few minutes later, their work was complete. Johnny took the letter and read over it as best as he could.

Dear Lucille,

It's me, Johnny. I got your address from my folks, and I wanted to know . . . Do you remember me? Accordin' to my old man, you're my mother. I'm sixteen now, and I want to know you. I want to learn what my family is like. I want to come home to you. I don't mean to sound demandin' by that, but I really do. My parents now have been treatin' me harshly, and I want to get away. In fact, I need to get away. Is there anyway you can help with that? Please. Just give me a chance.

Love always, Johnny

Johnny finished reading Ponyboy's letter and sat the paper on the table. He looked at his friend and frowned.

"That ain't much better," Pony only shrugged his shoulders.

"Heck, it'll do," he replied. Ponyboy got up from his seat and went to grab an envelope. Johnny remained at the table and laughed quietly to himself.

"Talk about gettin' to the point,"

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