Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders or the song "Make Me Wanna Die".

A/N: This is one of my favorite songs of all time so please read the lyrics.

Take me, I'm alive. Never was a girl with a wicked mind. But everything looks better when the sun goes down. I had everything. Opportunities for eternity. And I could belong to the night. Your eyes, your eyes. I can see in your eyes, your eyes.

Kathy has obsessive cooking disorder. It's every day now. When I wake up in the morning, I smell pancakes or eggs or bacon or all three. She packs our lunches every day. All three of us. She always leaves a napkin that says something sweet on it and lays it on the desert. When I come home from school, it smells like cookies. Tonight, it smells like pot roast.

Soda says he thinks it's just something she does to keep busy and not to say anything about it. None of us are complaining about it. Well, Pony's jeans don't fit anymore but other than that, it feels a little more like home this way.

"How was school today?" she asks.

I'm sitting at the table cutting up the carrots that are going with the roast. It's my job to do the small things. "Same old. Well, some kids set the bathroom on fire by smoking weed."

"Did they get it out?"

I nod, slicing another carrot. "Yeah. The whole lower level smelled like pot all day though."

Also when Kathy cooks, she listens to the radio. Tonight, it's her favorite - Johnny Cash. As she cuts up the potato she sways back and forth with a small smile as she sings along.

Even with the light mood, her dark circles and bags are standing out. Her smile isn't as big as it should be and she's not full out dancing like normal. She's been this way for weeks. Kathy is twenty-two. She looks more like thirty-two.

"Damn, what's that smell?" Soda comes in through the kitchen door, Pony behind him. Soda leans over the stove. "Sweet, beef! You gonna eat it Kat?" He jabs her in the side and laughs.

Kathy has a salad made beside her. Kathy worked at her grandfather's butcher shop as a kid. She doesn't eat meat.

"Shut-up, smelly. You stink."

"I can take a plate over to Dar tonight." Soda goes and starts a shower. He tosses his shirt in the hamper as he comes back into the room.

"If you wanna see him we can both go over there. I haven't seen him today either."

Soda nods and then goes back into the bathroom and shuts the door. Steams leaks out of the bottom crack of the door.

Pony's leaning against the counter eating an apple and watching Kathy cook. He's been quiet for a few days. I always thought it was because Darry yelled at him real bad. It started when report cards came out. Every parent has to sign and Pony pawned it off on Soda, hoping to skip the lecture.

Soda didn't look at it much when he signed it because it was morning and he was trying to find clean socks. It wasn't until a day or two later when Darry asked about it. Pony told him everything was fine but then Darry saw a failing grade inside Pony's book and called his teachers.

He was far from pleased. It's the maddest I've seen him since he got sick. He's been on these pills that calm his nerves and he's hardly raised his voice once. His heart monitor was going crazy and Kathy kept yelling at him but he didn't stop and then Pony started yelling and then started crying and left.

"No plans tonight?" Kathy twirls around and faces me. She smiles to show that she's trying.

I shake my head and chop the head off a carrot. "Work."

"After?"

"I sound like a loser telling you that I don't have plans on a Friday night."

She shrugs and throws some potatoes into the pot. "What about Peter? You haven't talked about him in a while. What's he doing tonight? Maybe he'd like to come see Darry with you after you get off."

I haven't told anyone what happened with Peter. I've sworn Jennie to secrecy. I'd tell Sarah, but, I don't want to. My mind has been on other things beside Peter anyway. The night after I talked to Sylvia, I got out one of my old journals and starting writing down things - everything I knew about Dale and Dally and Maggot and Sam.

I came up with nothing...again. Maybe I wasn't asking the right questions - or the right people.

"When are you heading to work?" Soda asks once he returns. He takes a seat next to me at the table.

"I've got the dinner and closing shift."

"We can drop you off before we go to the hospital," Kathy says. "Pony are you going with us?"

Pony shrugs and slips out of the room. He's only been to the hospital once since the fight and didn't want to go then but all of us had to go because we were meeting with the doctor and Soda drug him.

Soda sighs as he watches Pony fade back to his bedroom. "Teenage years are hitting hard."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"I never wanted him to get that job," he groans as he gets up to get a soda out of the fridge. "It's a girl."

Soda's good at reading people. His best subjects are us. He always knows what's going on without even talking to one of us. It's the same for his friends too. He can see emotions and signals we can't.

"What girl?" Kathy's paying attention now too. She's stopped cooking and joined in.

The can hisses as the cap falls off. "He won't tell me. He won't talk to me at all actually. I don't know if I did something wrong. I guess the whole report card thing maybe. I dunno. I wouldn't worry. He'll be ok."

Kathy goes back to cooking and Soda goes into the living room to take a load off and watch some TV before dinner. I stay in the kitchen, silently listening to Johnny Cash, and thinking.

"What's wrong?"

Pony's lying on the bed, flipping through a comic. He got Darry's old radio for Christmas and he's drowning out Johnny Cash with "Monday, Monday" by Mamas and Papas. It smells like boy in his room and rotten food. His room has never smelt this way. It smells like old books and peppermint. I look around to make sure it's not Soda's room.

He jingles his food on his knee, still reading and pretending as if I'm not there. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

His eyes go over the top of the comic. "Really?"

"Yeah. Your turn."

He folds the magazine up and stares at me. "Do you remember when we were little and we had that Thanksgiving where the whole gang came and Mom made the biggest meal ever?"

I nod, getting comfortable by leaning against his dresser. It's sticky.

"Remember that Dally came late and we all had to wait on him? Then we finally got to eat and then you brought out the desert you made. He took a bite of it and spit it out all over you and said it was horrible and you got really mad."

I slowly nod again. It was the Thanksgiving of 1963. It was one that I remember really well.

"Remember how you two starting fighting? You starting shouting at him and Mom kept trying to get you to stop but you were really red faced and Dally was just smirking. Then you said something - something really mean and Dad hit the table really loud and scared everyone. Then he told you to leave and you started crying."

Something else Pony didn't mention was that was a few days before I became a woman. Mom said that that explained why I was angry and emotional but I still thought I had a right to be angry. I still do.

"Yeah, I remember. Why?"

"Dad never hit you that day, did he?"

My dad had threatened to 'hit' all of us at some point but never did. He was very gentle and we all knew he couldn't bring himself to do it. "No. He never hit any of us. Why?"

He shrugs. "I just always wondered because he hit Darry once."

"No he didn't."

He nods slightly. "Darry told me. It was when he was a freshman and had just made the Varsity football team. It was when Dad had that job at the plant and he had to work late a lot."

Dad used to get really stressed about that job. It was first come first served as opposed to hours. It took a lot out of him and he didn't talk a lot but when he did, he mostly yelled and then slept for a long time.

"He came home at two a.m. one night and found Darry's report-card. He woke Darry up to talk to him but Darry barked at him and actually shoved him away."

Darry's first year in high school wasn't his best time. My mom always called it his teenage years because it was the only year he acted like a big fat jerk. He stopped once he became a sophomore but it was still hard to live with him.

"Darry said he used the belt on him and then screamed at him that if he grades didn't go up that he'd do it again. Darry said it scared him because he'd never seen him be so mean and mad. He just sat there and cried."

Darry hardly cried even back then. It was hard to believe that he actually told Pony that he did.

Ponyboy clears his throat. "After that, Dad came up to Darry's room the next night. He talked really soft like he was did when he was sad. He told Darry he was so sorry for hitting him. He just wanted him to have a better life than he did and go to college so he wouldn't have to work like him or Mom.

"He said that he had vowed to never hit his kids because his dad hit him and his mom and his sisters a lot. A whole lot. Then he started to cry and Darry told him it was ok. Dad said that he wouldn't hit any of us again and if he tried to hit us or Soda that Darry had to stop him."

I never knew that. Neither one of my parents talked about their childhood. I don't think any of us did. We knew it was bad enough not to mention so we never did. I saw my mom cry a few times when we asked why we didn't have grandparents.

I sit on the end of his bed by his feet. "What's your point, Pone?"

"Have you ever thought about how lucky we were? To no have parents who hit us?"

I had. We all did every time we saw Johnny after one of his dad's off days.

"Jennie's dad hit her a lot, didn't he? That's why she took her sister and ran?"

There was more to it than that. Only Soda and I know about Jennie's childhood. I only know pieces but Soda knows everything. He never talks about it and neither does Jennie. They both get really sad though when someone brings it up.

I nod a little. "Yeah."

"A lot of people hit their kids...I don't understand how you could ever do that and I don't have kids. A lot of kids from our neighborhood have parents who hit them. A lot of them are bad kids. I think that's why they're bad. They see their parents hit them so they think it's ok to hit others. I think that's why we turned out good. Dally's dad hit him. He hit Ronnie too."

I don't ask how he knows that. I should have but I didn't.

"I think that's why he's the way he is. I've been thinking about him and his friends that he hangs out with. They all had really bad childhoods but some people turn out differently. Sarah's mom hit her a whole lot too."

And there it is - the reason why.

I lick my lips. Then the sun hits on us and something glows. "Pony where'd you get that necklace?"

"What?"

I reach out and touch it. The silver metal is smooth and cold. I run my hand over the charm, the edges from the cross jabbing into my fingers. "Peter has one just like it...and so did Dally...and so does someone else I know."

I think back a few nights before. The night in the room with Dale and Peter and all that smoke. The smile on Dale's face. The way he looked at me and what he was dragging back and forth around his neck.

He jerks away, letting the necklace fall back down on his neck. He doesn't answer right away. It's like he's thinking of a good lie when it just comes out - "Sarah and I are dating."

I breathe out slowly. The song on the radio pauses and there's the faint sound of Johnny Cash from downstairs. I can hear Jennie turning off the oven and Soda setting the table and then a new song comes back on.

"Did you hear me?" He leans forward so he's closer to me. "Danni?"

I stand up. I don't go anywhere. I just stand there and think as Johnny Cash and Mamas and Papas blares.

"Side people? So Dale?"

She shrugs again as the smoke runs out of her mouth. "Like I said, I only know what I know. If I were guessing, I'd say yes, but then again, I'm just guessing."

"I don't know much. He's a bad guy. His crew has been around for a long time. He was handed down the business but he made it grow. His partner in crime, well, you know him well - Dally. Or so they were partners at one time. Maybe they still are. There is something going on we don't know about."

I get in closer so I won't miss anything. "What happened? Who is this guy everyone keeps talking about?"

"I don't know. I do know what Maggot says, goes. I know he's the reason Dally got arrested at ten and sent down here. And I know he has a lot to do with to do the murder of Dally's mother."

There is something going on that we don't know about. Maybe I wasn't asking the right questions - or the right people.

"I've...I've got to go to work."

The bed creeks as Pony gets up. He follows after me, yelling, "Danni! Danni wait! Danni!"

"Danni!"

"Go away!"

I can hear his footsteps as he runs to catch up to me. "Danni just talk to me, alright. I just wanna talk!"

"I said go away Peter!"

I pick up my feet instead of dragging them. I do my best to cross the street and get over to the Dingo that's in sight. It was so close. All I had to do was walk, or run, a little fast. Somehow, I knew I would be late to work today.

Peter clutches my shoulders, jolting me and pulling me into the alleyway. He holds his tight clasp on me until he can get me corner between two set of walls. It's warm and sticky and smells like feet.

His eyes glare down on me. They're dark and chilling. "Talk to me! What is your problem? I've been calling you for days. Why won't you talk to me? What...What did I do to make you so angry?"

His arm clenches me so I can't escape. "Nothing." I shake my head and try to get away. "It's not you, Peter. It's me."

"Oh, that's original." He smashes his hand near my face to show that he's not letting me go.

"What do you want me to say?" I question. "I'm sorry. I really am but this just isn't working."

His eyes go big and he grimaces tightly. "What do you mean? Everything was fine! You told me you wanted to have sex! It's not like I tried to rape you. You ran off, Danni. I should be angry with you."

"With me?" I ask, appalled. "You should be angry with me because I wouldn't have sex with you?"

"You're my girlfriend! I don't see the problem. You had sex with Dally so freely and I've heard others."

I can feel my heart beat through my chest as the anger starts to surplus. "Is that the only reason why you dated me? You thought I was easy? And who's told you this? Dale?"

He rolls his head back, grumbling and partially laughing at the same time. "What is this thing you have with Dale?"

"He's a bad guy," I say plainly. "I've heard things too. Why are you friends with him, Peter? Tell me the truth."

He looks down at the ground and shakes his head. I can feel the heat from his fists beside my head. I can feel how fast his heart is beating and I can see the look on his face that tells me he's on the verge of exploding.

And I'm in the way.

"You're crazy. You're my girlfriend, damnit!" He hits the wall again. "You listen to me!"

"I was your girlfriend," I say softly but forceful. "We're done. I'm done."

The look on his is a scrunched up ball of anger and I can see every vein pop out of his skin. His muscles explode and he looks like a monstrous villain in a comic. He's a volcano, smoking at the roots.

He breathes and breathes and I want him to stop because I'm late and I'm alone.

Then he stops and begins to slowly speak, "It's him isn't it? It's because of Dally."

"No," I say sternly. "It's because of you and it's because of me. I'm sorry, ok? I really do like you and I really did love you in a way but it's just that I'm not ready for this. I thought I was but I'm not."

"I don't believe you."

I look down the stretch of endless brick, planning my run. "Get off me."

He tightens his grip on my arm. He squeezes it the more he digs closer into my face and that look returns. "This is really how you're gonna play me? After everything I did for you!"

"Let me go!"

He smashes the wall again only this time there's more anger and momentum surrounding the fist. I'm not expecting it as much this time and I can feel the wind hit my cheek. I close my eyes and mentally push him away. Just enough for me to leave.

"Peter, let me go, now."

"You're not going anywhere until we talk."

"We're done talking."

"Not until I say so."

"I'll scream," I warn, already preparing my lungs.

Then, at that very moment, I recognize where I've seen this looks before. I've seen this anger before. I've seen this person before. This is Jeff. This is Dale. This isn't Peter. Not the one I knew. But the real Peter coming out.

There's the sound of heavy feet hitting puddles of water. There's the sound of a thick voice, "Why can't we all just play nice now, kids?"

"Dally?"

Peter looks from me to him, his eyes getting extensive again. "This is Dally?" Back to Dally. "You're Dallas Winston?"

Dally smirks and continues his stride over to us. "Why don't we leave the pretty girl alone, Pete?"

"Go away," I growl but he doesn't move. He doesn't even hear me because he and Peter are having their own conversation that I'm not invited to. There's something missing that I don't know about.

Peter presses his eyebrows together. "But you said your name was Huston!"

"He lies," I hiss. I stare at Dally. "You were checking him out, weren't you?"

He shrugs and pulls out a fresh cigarette. He lets it dangle in-between his lips before he lights it and puffs out a big cloud of smoke. "Nah. Just making new friends."

"We're not friends," Peter snarls. "We're having a conversation. Leave."

"No." Peter isn't so strong now that Dally's here and I'm able to throw his arm down. "We're done talking."

Dally props up against the wall beside me. "Think she wants you to leave, Pete."

"Stop calling me that!" he howls out like a small child. "This is none of your business! I know what she wants better than you do. I'm not the bad guy here! He's the bad one!" He points to Dally and looks at me. "Tell him to leave!"

I cross my arms over my chest. I look to Dally and then to ground. "Leave, Peter."

He gapes at me, hoping I'll retract my statement but I don't. I just look at my shoes and the black scuff marks. "Danni!"

"Unless you want to go limping out of here with your skull mashed open, I'd leave now," Dally says.

Peter doesn't leave right away. He looks back and forth between us as if he's trying to figure out some math problem. Then he shakes his head and balls up his fists. "You're a bitch." Then he walks away.

Dally takes a strong step towards him. "What was that, pep squeak?"

"Let him go," I say with a shrug.

It's just us two now. Dally focuses on his cigarette and on the end of the alley. He makes sure Peter's gone before he takes another puff. He's grown some in the face since I've seen him. I don't know if it's from not sleeping or work or just that he's getting older like the rest of us.

"Well don't you just always show up at the right moments?" I break the awkward silence over us.

He winks. "It's a gift."

"Sure."

"Just call me batman, sweets."

I roll my eyes. I pick my bag up from the ground and throw it over my shoulder and start to walk down the way. "I didn't need your help, alright? I had the situation under control."

He sneers. "Didn't look that way from my angle."

"Well I did."

"Ok."

"Ok."

I turn my back and I'm ready to go but instead, I turn back around. "I know about Dale...and Maggot."

He doesn't seem surprised, like he already knew that or suspected it. "And?"

"Is that who you're really like? Some guy in a gang with guns and knives, just killing people for no reason? Because I know you're not. And I've been thinking about it a lot, and I don't know why you did what you did or why you're doing it now, but this isn't who you are. I know you and you're not like Dale."

He smokes like a train and he stares. His eyes aren't dark and they're not cold and angry. They're beautiful and I've missed the way they glow. He stares at me and I remember the way he used to look at me with those beautiful big blue eyes.

He slowly puts out his stick and walks towards me. "You're little boy - you don't know him very well, do you? Instead of checking on me, you should've checked on him."

"Why is that?"

"He's Dale's right hand man. He's been with him for two years. He does all of Dale's work. He's the most trusted soldier of the group. Always doing what Sargent Dale wants and not questioning anything. So instead of checking on me, someone who you hate, check on your boy's real motives in dating you."

There's a burning in the back of my throat. That feeling you get when you feel like you're about to cry but you hold it back and you can't open your mouth to let out a sob because you're hiding it. You're only crying in your head and throat.

"Yeah, how's that for a pill to swallow?"

I swallow over and over again, trying to say something but I can't think of anything so I say: "I hate you."

"I've heard."

"I really hate you. I hate the way you're always here. I hate that you won't leave me alone. I hate your eyes and your big fat face and the way you smirk and the way you smile. I hate everything about you!"

And this time, I actually walk away. This isn't the first time I've walked away from Dally after getting in the last word, but it's the first time I keep replaying those words over and over again.

I really hate you. I hate the way you're always here. I hate that you won't leave me alone. I hate you're eyes and you're big fat face and the way you smirk and the way you smile. I hate everything about you!

But mostly, I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close.

Everything in your eyes, your eyes, you make me wanna die. I'll never be good enough. You make me wanna die. And everything you love will burn up in the light. And every time I look inside your eyes (Burning in the light). Make me wanna die.

A/N: Someone very close to my heart passed away last week. A friend of mine whom I grew up with and who was just sixteen. He lost his battle with cancer after two long years. Please pray for me and my town as we all get through this tough time. Thank you.

Have a great Thanksgiving everyone!