Note: I don't own The Outsiders

Chapter 28

"Ponyboy, I need to talk to you for a minute." Teachers really have no idea the hold they have over their students. How ten simple words, said with the wrong inflection or lack of emotion, can cause seconds, even minutes of panic. Talk to me? What did I do? Am I still failing? Did I screw up the test so badly that Mr. Syme thinks I need to be pulled from his class immediately, even though there are only a few weeks left of school, so what should it matter anyway? Darry's gonna kill me.

Okay, maybe I'm getting a little melodramatic here, Pony admitted to himself as he stood in front of Mr. Syme's desk - waiting for the last of his classmates to exit the room. It took them forever; one girl had to double back and grab the purse she'd left dangling from her chair. Ponyboy almost let out a groan when she hurried back into the room - he felt like he was being executed by a firing squad that kept restarting their countdown.

As soon as the door closed, Mr. Syme opened his desk drawer and pulled out a black and white composition book. He laid his hand over the cover, obscuring the name written on it from Ponyboy's view. Ponyboy had a feeling he knew what it was though - it was his theme. He recognized the creases down the spine, how the edges of some of the pages were tinged a faint brown from the Pepsi he'd accidentally spilled, and how the one corner had been folded over by accident while he'd been bent over his desk, writing furiously. He'd tried to repair the damage - straighten out the corner, blot away the soda - so it didn't look like he was handing in something old and battered. It hadn't worked.

"Ponyboy," Mr. Syme said as he looked up at the nervous teenager, "this is some of the best writing any student has ever presented to me."

Pony didn't answer him at first; it was taking the words a few moments to work their way from his ears to his brain. He knew he was standing there with a stupid look on his face - eyes wide and glassy, mouth hanging open like he was trying to catch flies - but he couldn't help it. He was tempted to ask his teacher to repeat what he said, just to make sure he wasn't going crazy.

"R-really?" he managed to stutter in response. Mr. Syme smiled warmly as he picked up the book and handed it to him. The notebook felt heavy in his hands - the weight of all those words bearing down on him.

"I was truly honored that you wanted to share this story with me." Pony carefully opened the cover; a grade and comments were scrawled across the title page in red ink. The grade was an A and he felt his chest swell with pride. Darry - he couldn't wait to tell Darry. He imagined coming home, walking up to his big brother, presenting him with the composition book, waiting in anticipation for him to open it and see the grade and read the comments. He knew he wouldn't though - showing Darry his paper would mean he would want to read it. Pony didn't think either one of them was ready for that yet.

He and Darry were getting along a lot better now, certainly better than a year ago. But their relationship seemed tenuous, like the littlest thing could break it and there would be no way to put it back together this time. Some of the things he'd written, some of the stuff he'd felt at the time …well, he didn't want to give Darry a reason to hate him again. How screwed up was it that he found it easier to share this stuff with his teacher - a guy he barely knew - than with his own brother?

"I know we discussed your grade, and that I told you I would give you a C." Ponyboy nodded mutely in agreement. "Well, I think that I could be convinced to up that to a B, as long as you don't spread around the rumor that I've gone soft in my old age."

Pony slowly smiled. "I think I can handle that." He gathered up the rest of his books and prepared to head for the door when Mr. Syme stopped him again.

"Wait, Ponyboy. There's one more thing …"

The lady was staring at him. Well, maybe not staring, but Johnny could feel her eyes on him. She'd look up from her desk, glance quickly at him, then slide her eyes to his chair, and then return her attention to the papers she was shuffling around. She kept doing it, over and over again, and all Johnny could think of were the "Lather, Rinse, Repeat" instructions on shampoo bottles. It was all getting to be very uncomfortable and he forced himself to keep his eyes down, trained on his sneakers, as he silently wished that he could become invisible.

He couldn't believe how much this was bothering him; and he was a little embarrassed by his reaction. He'd thought he'd finally gotten over his unease with going out in public, in having people either openly stare at him or look away quickly, pity in their eyes. Of course, those people were usually strangers. They really didn't matter, in the long run.

Here - even if he couldn't remember their names, even if he'd never met them, even if he'd never laid eyes on them before - these people weren't strangers. This was high school; there was no place to hide and no way to ignore the glances and whispers.

He looked over at Sarah, who was sitting in a chair next to him. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," he said nervously.

She reached over and squeezed his hand lightly. "Don't worry, I'll be right next to you. You don't have to go in there alone."

The small intercom chirped on the secretary's desk and she cleared her throat. "Johnny," she said in a gentle voice that grated like fingernails down a chalkboard, "the principal is ready to see you now."

As soon as they entered the office, Principal Clark stepped out from behind his desk and offered Sarah his hand in greeting.

"Nice to meet you," he said as he shook her hand, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. He leaned over and placed a strong hand on Johnny's shoulder. "It's good to see you, Johnny."

It took all of Johnny's willpower not to shrug the guy's hand off his shoulder. Good to see me? Johnny thought. Yeah, right.

The last time he'd been here he'd been given three days detention for something he hadn't even done. Some Soc had pushed this nerdy kid into a locker, spilling his books and breaking his glasses. Before Johnny knew what was happening, a teacher had grabbed him and sent him to the office, claiming he had done the pushing. Principal Clark didn't even give him a chance to defend himself. He tried to tell him that it was that guy, Dean Something-Or-Other, who had pushed the kid. Clark didn't care. He didn't believe him - or he didn't want to. It was definitely easier to punish a greaser than it was to punish a Soc. No greaser's parents were likely to come down and defend their kid, least of all his parents.

"Well, Johnny, Miss Martin asked me to see the two of you today," the principal explained as he made his way back to his leather chair behind the imposing desk. Sarah pulled up a chair next to Johnny and gave him a comforting smile. Principal Clark was looking at him like he expected him to say something. He had no idea what to say, so he just nodded, hoping the guy would get the hint and continue.

"We both agree that you've shown tremendous improvement in your work since, well …" he trailed off, not finishing his sentence, but everyone knew what he meant. He cleared his throat, trying to cover the awkward moment before continuing. "She made the suggestion that you should continue with your schoolwork through the summer, picking up work from the other classes you've missed this year."

At first it sounded like a lot, almost too much; then Johnny realized he'd nearly completed the work for three of his classes anyway. There were really only two classes he hadn't done any work for - biology and algebra. Biology because he really hated the teacher and didn't think any amount of work would make the guy happy, so why bother. And algebra because, well … he was really bad at math.

"O-okay," he said hesitantly - maybe he could make this work. He'd get Pony to help, he was really good at tutoring him in his other classes and he remembered him bragging about his grade in science last year. And who knows, maybe Tom was secretly genius at math.

"So, if you keep on track and keep your grades up, you'll be able to start your junior year next year." Principal Clark was smiling - Johnny had never seen him smile before. He decided he liked the scowl better, it looked more natural.

"That's terrific. Thank you so much," Sarah said. She smiled at Johnny and patted him on the arm - she looked proud. He didn't know how to react; no one, least of all an adult, had ever looked at him like that before.

Clark, however, wasn't finished. The principal's smile faded and was replaced with a look Johnny was much more familiar with. "Now, Miss Martin, I assume you will be monitoring his work carefully and make sure all of this is on the up and up."

Sarah's eyes narrowed behind her glasses and Johnny grew very still. "Excuse me?" she said slowly.

"As I said, his work has improved dramatically."

"Just what are you implying?" Sarah was getting angry and Johnny began wishing he'd told her "no" when she suggested the meeting today. He knew all it would get him was trouble.

"Miss Martin, in your line of work, I'm sure you've run into the typical tough kids who try to work around the system. I know he's had Ponyboy Curtis helping him, and all I can say is that I've been seeing grades more in line with a student like Ponyboy than what I am used to seeing with Mr. Cade."

Sarah looked like she was going to launch herself across the desk and strangle the guy. Johnny wanted to tell her to shrug it off - it was no big deal. This was just the way things worked around here.

"Sarah, it's okay," he said, trying to get her to calm down. She looked at him, and for a second it looked like she was angry with him.

"No it's not okay." She looked pissed-off and sad at the same time. "You've worked really hard and you deserve to be proud of that."

She turned her attention back to the principal, who looked like he was beginning to question the direction he'd taken the conversation. "You should be encouraging students to do well, not doubting them when they do. Maybe then, a student like Ponyboy, who doesn't have all of the benefits that some of the other kids have, wouldn't be such a rarity."

Johnny didn't take a breath until they were in the hallway. Sarah collapsed against the cool, brick wall that was littered with posters and announcements. She let out a nervous laugh.

"Wow," she said and a big grin spread across her face.

Johnny just stared at her, at a loss for words.

"Did I just do that?" she asked and Johnny couldn't help it - he returned her smile. "Did I just chew out Principal Clark?"

"Yeah, I think you did," Johnny answered. He found himself imagining her going toe to toe with Dally in an argument. That sure would be a sight to see.

"Well, he deserved it. He always was a pompous jerk," she said, a triumphant glint sparking in her eyes.

"You went to school here?"

"Yeah, it feels like forever, but it's been five years. Five long years," she said with a wistful sigh. She pulled her glasses off and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Gosh, I feel old."

"He didn't act like he recognized you," Johnny observed as Sarah got behind his chair and started to push it toward the exit.

"Of course not. Why would he? I didn't play any sports, I sure as heck wasn't a cheerleader, and my family wasn't rich. They're the only things that matter around here."

"You got that right," Johnny agreed.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day and Johnny's grip tightened on the armrests until his knuckles turned white. Like a floodgate being opened, students spilled into the hallway. Sarah and Johnny hadn't been far from the doors, but now their path was blocked with rowdy teenagers, anxious to get out and enjoy the few remaining hours of daylight. He'd always hated that rush of people - that disorienting feeling of being swept up in a mass of bodies all pushing in one direction. Sarah pulled his chair up against the wall, away from the crowd. At least with everyone in a hurry, no one really noticed him sitting there.

His eyes scanned the hallway, looking for a familiar face. Sarah saw him before Johnny did and called out, "Ponyboy, over here."

Pony stopped dead in the middle of the hall, causing a momentary clog as people tried to get around him. He looked confused and Johnny figured he wasn't used to girls calling out his name in the middle of the school. It was kind of funny to watch him scan the crowd, trying to discern which blonde, brunette or redhead was calling for him. Johnny had to give him credit, though - he still looked happy even when he realized it had been him and Sarah trying to get his attention.

"Hey, guys," Pony said as he made his way over to them. "What are you doin' here?"

"Had an appointment with Clark," Johnny shrugged.

"Everything okay?" Ponyboy looked worried.

"Yeah, everything's fine." Johnny sounded like he had a mouth full of marbles and Sarah rolled her eyes.

"He got some great news today. Not that he'd ever admit it," she said, making no attempt to hide the exasperation in her voice. The crowd was thinning out and she began steering the wheelchair toward the door with Ponyboy walking alongside them.

"I got some good news today, too. Y'all should come over for dinner to celebrate," Pony sounded excited and Johnny figured Mary and Tom wouldn't mind. Sarah was the only one that needed convincing.

"I don't know …"

"Come on, it'll be nice. And Darry won't care. People drop by all the time." Johnny looked up at Sarah and he noticed that she seemed even more hesitant when Pony mentioned Darry.

"Well, I already had something planned for dinner …" she explained half-heartedly. Johnny didn't know how he could tell, but he knew she was lying.

"Geez, Pony - I guess I can't go if Sarah doesn't," Johnny gave an exaggerated sigh, hoping to lay on some guilt. He wasn't being very subtle about it.

"I guess not," Pony agreed, a sad frown furrowing his brow. "And there was probably going to be cake."

Sarah shook her head in defeat and laughed. "I give up - I'll go. Happy now?"

When Darry came home, the house was filled with the comforting scent of baking biscuits and chocolate cake. He was surprised to see Sarah on the couch, flipping through an old issue of Popular Mechanics that Soda had brought home from the DX. He realized she wasn't really reading it when she flipped through the same ten pages at least five times without stopping once.

Sarah looked up when she realized he was standing there. Her glasses were pushed back on top of her head, holding her hair back, which was unconfined and loose around her shoulders. He realized he'd never seen it down before - it was usually back in a bun or up in a ponytail. It looked nice. She smiled and he realized he'd been caught staring.

Clearing his throat, he said, "Um, hello."

"Hello," she repeated, leaning forward to place the magazine on the rickety coffee table.

"Interesting reading?" he asked, trying to figure out what to say. He used to be good at this, he thought. It wasn't like he'd never spoken to a woman before. Of course, since his parents died, his interaction with the female population had pretty much been reduced to answering the social worker's monthly round of twenty questions. And she sure as hell didn't look like Sarah Martin.

"Riveting," Sarah answered. "I may have to look into getting a subscription."

Darry smiled as his mind scrolled through potential topics to bring up next:

The weather? Too boring … His job? No woman wants to talk about roofing … Her job? He really didn't want to talk about social work … Movies? He hadn't seen one in over a year …Music? They'd already gone down that road once before and established that she had no taste … which brought him back to …

"So," he said as crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, trying to look at ease, "nice weather we're havin'."

Sarah was saved from answering when Ponyboy and Sodapop came out of the kitchen, carrying the various bowls and dishes that comprised dinner. Johnny followed, pushing his chair up to the table.

"Okay, guys, dinner is served," Soda said cheerfully.

Everything looked great - a hearty spread of chicken, mashed potatoes, carrots, and biscuits. And Darry noted that everything was the color Mother Nature intended.

"Got home late from work, Soda?" Darry asked as he took his seat.

"Yeah, how did you know?" Soda asked, a perplexed look on his face.

"Lucky guess," he answered dryly.

Everyone ate in silence for the next several minutes, enjoying the food and the companionship. After two rounds of helpings, Soda got up and cleared the plates to get ready for dessert.

"Johnny has some good news and, apparently so does Ponyboy," Sarah announced after Soda had returned with the cake and clean plates. Johnny looked like he wanted to disappear under the table and Pony looked like he was going to burst in excitement.

"Let Johnnycake go first, before he dies of embarrassment," Soda said as he gently nudged his friend on the arm.

"Thanks, Soda," Johnny muttered. "It's nothing, really. I just had a meeting with Principal Clark."

"Johnny will be a junior next year if he finishes his schoolwork over the summer," Sarah explained. "They agreed not to hold him back."

"That's terrific," Pony said with a grin.

Johnny looked at his friend. "I'll need some more help. It's bio and algebra."

"Did you think I would say no?" Pony tried to look offended, but his smile ruined it.

"How did you get them to agree to that?" Darry asked, looking at Sarah.

She started to explain when Johnny suddenly interrupted, "You should of seen it, Darry. She really put ol' Clark in his place." Johnny's eyes glowed with admiration.

"Really?" Darry asked, kind of surprised that she would be able to stand up to a guy like Clark - he could be really intimidating. Lately, Darry hadn't had any trouble with Ponyboy, but Clark had treated Soda like he was some sort of criminal mastermind. The guy was a stubborn jackass - once he decided you were a troublemaker, you might as well have it tattooed across your forehead, because you were never going to change his mind. If Soda so much as breathed wrong in class or spoke too loudly in the hallway, he was given detention. He figured Johnny - who barely spoke and never caused trouble - had similar problems with the guy.

"It wasn't that earth shattering," Sarah assured them as she took the plate Soda was offering.

"Did he cry?" Soda asked, clasping his hands in front of him as though he was pleading with her. "Please tell me he cried."

"Like a baby," Sarah said with a completely serious expression.

Soda stared at her for a second, a bewildered look on his face. "Really?" he practically squeaked.

"Okay," Darry interrupted, ready to change the subject, "what's your big news, Ponyboy."

Pony was about to take a huge bite of cake, but put the fork down now that he had everyone's attention. "Mr. Syme talked to me today. A friend of his is an editor at the Tribune and he runs an internship there during the summer for students. Mr. Syme put in a good word for me and the editor wants to set up an interview."

Soda had a huge smile on his face. "Ponyboy Curtis, reporter at large."

Pony's enthusiasm was infectious, and Darry found himself feeling that same thrill of anticipation he'd experience before a big game. It felt like validation; his sacrifices weren't in vain. This is what he wanted for his brothers - opportunities, a chance at a future.

"Yeah, isn't it cool? Maybe I'll get to write an undercover expose about -"

"What exactly is in the cafeteria meatloaf?" Johnny interrupted and Soda beamed at him.

"Good one, kid."

Ponyboy cleared his throat. He was a little annoyed at the interruption; but had to admit it was funny. "As I was saying, it's really exciting - only six students get picked and they're really selective about who they choose."

"That's wonderful, Ponyboy," Sarah said from across the table.

Darry reached out and placed a strong, comforting hand on Ponyboy's arm. It was a gesture their dad used to make when he and Darry were talking about football or plans for college. Pony always thought it was his dad's way of silently saying, It's us against the world, son.

"I'm really proud of you, kiddo. Really proud," Darry said and for a second Pony thought he could close his eyes and here his dad's voice in Darry's words.

"Thanks, Darry," Pony responded, surprised to feel his throat growing tight.

He decided that as soon as he got up the nerve, he was going to show his brother his theme. More than anyone, he deserved to read it.

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A/N Okay, this turned out to be a really long chapter. I was going to jump ahead and start with the next school year, but got the idea for Pony working at the newspaper and thought that it could be interesting. Don't worry, I didn't forget about the mystery of the guy in the photo and I didn't forget about Dally. There will definitley be a chapter chronicling Dal and Tim's Excellent Adventures (although it probably won't be the next one) - surely everything will go as planned?

Thanks again for the all of the reviews. You guys have been great.