Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders. I am merely a bored human being, trying to pass the time. kthxbai.

Author's Note: Okay. I tried harder on this chapter. I think it's much better. The last chapter was kind of a filler chapter. Sorry. Anyways, enjoy!

I released the silver fork from my hand, letting it clang down to the plate. I let out a sigh.

"Darry," I said, "You really don't have to sit here and watch me eat."

It had been about a week since I'd got home from the hospital. I had been staying home from school the entire time, and it seemed like there was always someone at home with me. I was never alone. Even when Darry and Soda were at work, there was someone. Usually Two-Bit, but there was one time when Steve came over and we just hung out. It was quite awkward, actually. We really didn't say much to each other the entire time, just sacked out in front of the TV. We small-talked a little. Apparently Tim Shepard and his crew had hit up a local drug store, bashing in the windows and other vandalism. And apparently everyone knew that it was them except for the drug store owner. Figure that.

"I'm not," Darry said, turning a page in the newspaper.

I got up and looked over his shoulder, "Yeah? Since when do you read the wanted ads?"

I had meant it as a joke punch through his alibi, but when I saw Darry stiffen up I looked down at my socks. "Did you get fired because you had to stay with me at the hospital?"

He reached over and patted me on the shoulder, "Nope. I haven't been fired…Yet, anyways. But I heard they're cutting back people, and well, I just want to be ready in case."

In case…In case he got fired. I looked at him and shook my head, "You won't get fired."

He looked at me like he was about to say something, but I went on, "That won't happen. You're one of their best workers. They can't afford to lose you. They won't fire you. I know it."

Darry grinned at me, "Sure little buddy. Thanks."

I nodded decisively and went to finish the last bit of egg left on my plate. I was real glad that Darry and Soda weren't trying to shove three huge chickens down my throat, they were letting me go at my own pace. This morning I had two and a half eggs. Which granted, wasn't the best thing ever, but it was a start. I was still having trouble eating. After a meal, the food sat in my stomach like a cancerous lump. It would make me uncomfortable for a few hours, and then Soda would catch on and distract me with something.

"You're going back to school tomorrow," Darry said quickly, as if I might not notice what the words he said meant.

"I'm what?" I asked as I got up to rinse off my plate.

"Going back to school tomorrow," Darry said, this time slower. He smiled a bit, "Sorry kiddo. I just…You can't stay home forever."

My first reaction was to scream "Can so!" at the top of my lungs. But I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Can't I have one more day off?"

Darry shook his head, "No. I'm sorry Pony, you have to go back tomorrow. Don't worry about it, it'll be okay. Things are gonna be getting back to normal real soon. Just watch."

I didn't respond, just continued to wash my plate of the bits of egg clinging onto it.

"Hey Soda," I said, plopping down on the couch next to him.

"Hey," he said, giving me a small shrug. He was in his DX uniform, the top button of his shirt missing.

"I'm taking you to see Dr. Pyke today," Soda said, "Before I go to work. We should leave in about twenty minutes, so go get dressed."

"Sure," I said. But for some reason I didn't move, "Hey Soda, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, staring into my eyes.

I shrugged, "Are you okay?"

He gave me one of his famous grins, "Sure I'm okay. What would make you think I wasn't?"

"I dunno," I said, shrugging again, "I just…"

"Don't worry about me Pony," he said, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug. He then rolled me off the couch and jumped on top of me.

I yelped in surprise and tried to get up, but he had me pinned. He grinned down at my face, making me laugh.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"Beating you up," Soda said, rapping his knuckles on my forehead.

I was about to tell him to get off of me, but then he started to tickle my sides. I screamed with laughter and protest, wiggling around, now desperate to break free.

After a few minutes, Soda let up. "C'mon," he said, "You'd better get dressed." He grabbed my wrist and hauled me up to my feet. I was still laughing a little bit. He shook his head at me.

"You're crazy Ponyboy," he said.

"Yeah? Well look who I got for a brother."

"That's not a nice thing to say about Darry!"

I laughed and went into my room. I emerged back out about two minutes later in a plain pair of blue jeans and a red shirt.

"Let's go!" Soda said gleefully. "Bye Darry!"

"Bye!" Darry hollered from the other room.

Soda and me headed out to the car. Soda turned the radio up ear-splitting loud, bopping his head to the beat. Soon we pulled into the driveway of the building that I saw Dr. Pyke in.

"Darry's gonna pick you up," Soda said with a nod of his head, "I'll seeya later kiddo."

"Bye. Thanks for the ride, Soda," I said with a wave as I exited the car.

I watched Soda speed off and then I turned around and went inside the building in front of me.

The waiting room was always nice. It wasn't like sitting in a hospital waiting room. Not at all. There were pictures over the bright, white walls, an aquarium full of neon colored fish, the chairs were comfortable to sit in, and the tables next to them were lined with magazines. I was flipping through one, studying the people in them. There was an ad for Coca-Cola that caught my eye in particular. It was rather simple, just a guy holding the glass bottle to his lips. He was clean shaven, and wore black jeans, a white shirt, and a black tie. The caption at the bottom read "Ahhh, refreshing." It was kind of a lame ad, if you ask me. Which is probably why I couldn't take my eyes off of it. It bugged me.

"Hello Ponyboy."

I looked up and met the familiar eyes of Dr. Pyke. I rose, "Good morning."

He nodded, "Shall we?"

I returned his nod and followed him as he went down the hall, then taking a sharp turn into his office.

Therapists offices are always described as having a big cozy chair that the doctor sits in, and then a long, brown, leather couch for the patient to sit in. But Dr. Pyke's office just had three enormous arm chairs in it. Two side by side, and one behind a desk. I settled myself into one, and he sat into the one across from me, behind the desk. He flipped open his official looking notebook.

"So, how are you doing today?" He asked me.

"I'm pretty good," I said with a nod. I watched him, and then blurted, "What do you write in the notebook of yours?"

He chuckled, making his mustache twitch, "You know, it really doesn't have anything to do with what you say. It's all for insurance." He must have seen a confused look on my face because he went on, "For instance, if you were to go out and commit murder or something, the insurance could give the police these files, looking over your treatment. Whether or not I predicted you were in a violent mood or not. But the actual content of what you say isn't written down."

I nodded, "Cool."

"Very," he agreed, "Is there anything new going on?"

"Darry's making me go back to school tomorrow," I said glumly.

Dr. Pyke smiled at me, "He is, is he? I'm sorry. You don't feel ready yet, I take it?"

"No. I don't want to go back."

"You do know Ponyboy, you won't ever be ready to go back to school."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's going to be hard, no matter how long you wait. You just have to do it. It's like getting a shot. The anticipation of it is worse than the actual impact."

"Okay," I smiled, "Thanks Dr. Pyke."

"Are you still smoking?"

The sudden change of subjects startled me out of a response. "What?"

"Are you still smoking?" He repeated.

"Well, I…" I thought about it for a few moments, "I guess not. I haven't had one in a long time. How come?"

"I was just curious," he said, "I find it odd that suddenly you just quit."

"Yeah, I don't know why."

I tried to think of the last time I had smoked a cigarette, but my memory failed me.

Dr. Pyke grinned, and then looked down at his watch, "Time flies, my boy. Don't forget that. A half hour is gone. I'll see you Wednesday."

"Bye Dr. Pyke." I said, getting up. Once I reached the door I paused and turned back around to face him, "Dr. Pyke?"

"Yes?" He said, watching me.

"So school will be okay?"

"I'm certain it will be."

"Okay, thanks," I said, "I just needed someone to tell me that." And then before I could feel foolish, I rushed outside to wait for Darry to come get me.