I took the letter to Dally. I felt like he should get to hear it, too. I skipped school a few days after I found the letter. In my backpack, I packed a blanket, hot chocolate in one of Dad's thermoses, the letter, and a bottle of beer. It wasn't for myself. I gave up drinking after that party. The beer was for Dallas.
I hated the idea of walking over the dead. I don't know why. Even when I was little and went to my mother's funeral, I hated it. I cried so much over the thought that Dally got mad and yelled at Dad to carry me. I had never been to the Tulsa cemetery until Dally's funeral. Even then I walked between the aisles of graves, hoping I didn't accidently step on someone's feet.
When I got to his grave, I lied down beside it on the blanket. I didn't like to think of Dally as stiff on his back, hands at his side. I always imagined that he was asleep forever the same way he always slept, on his stomach, hugging his pillow to himself, all that white-blond hair falling over his face. I lied down on my stomach, pulling the letter out.
"Sorry I haven't been by to see you," I wasn't really sure how you talk to the dead.
"I found this in Darry's attic. Wild, huh? I don't know why it was there. I didn't think to ask. I haven't read it yet. I was waiting to bring it to you."
The letter felt heavy in my hand. I reckoned that meant there would be a really long letter. I thought it meant I would finally know why she did it. I slid one of Karen's nail files that somehow found its way into my bag across the envelope. There was only one piece of lined paper in there.
"I'm sorry. Mama. That's all it says, Dal." When I turned over the envelope, pictures fell out. They were all of us. Dally and me when we were younger. When it all happened, we thought she had got rid of all the pictures around the house.
"I don't know why Dad hid this from us, Dally. But I'm gonna find out." I stayed with him for a little while, looking through all those pictures from our childhood. Seeing Dally's younger face didn't hurt the way picturing his seventeen-year-old face did.
When I got up, I sat the beer carefully beside his gravestone. At first, I didn't think Two-Bit was going to give it to me. He was right mad when I asked for one. I thought he was gonna bite my head off until I told him it was for Dallas. Then his ears got real red and he looked sheepish when he handed it over.
"Aren't you supposed to leave flowers?" I near jumped out of my skin when I heard Sodapop's voice behind me. His eyes were red and puffy and there was a spot on his cheek still wet.
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to see Mom and Dad. It's the anniversary, you know." I didn't. I forgot. A year ago that day, Mr. and Mrs. Curtis had died. "I brought flowers. It's traditional, classic. Beer's good too, though."
He gave me a little shrug. Even though he'd been crying, he wasn't hiding it. He was even joking around.
"You know Dal. He'd tell me to cut out the sissy stuff if he ever knew I left him flowers." I started packing up. I didn't realize I dropped the one photo not of me and Dally, a wedding photo. My parents were just nineteen and seventeen when they were married. Soda stooped and picked it up before I even knew I missed it.
"Soda…" He was holding it far enough away from himself that he could compare it to me.
"You look a lot like her." I reached my hand out for the picture. He gave it back, but he took my hand and pulled me forward, too. Soda held my hand, my parent's wedding photo between our palms.
"It's okay to miss him, you know. It's okay to come talk to him. It helps." I looked up at him, really in his eyes this time, not like the last time we were in this cemetery together.
"Thank you for New Year's," I said and pulled my hand away. I started to make my way back through the cemetery when he yelled after me.
"For which part? Taking you home or the kiss?" I turned to face him, putting my hand on my hip and rolling my eyes.
"Figure it out!"
I decided to just go back home. There wasn't much else for me to do. I'd get in more trouble showing up for school so late than I would for not going at all. I could have visited Angela—she skipped school more than anyone I knew, even Dally, and he had been a near dropout. How she hadn't been expelled for not going to school, I'll never know.
Dad wasn't going to be back home for another week. I put Mom's letter on his bedside table and went to my room. I figured I might as well do some homework since I skipped school. That way I wouldn't have to do it when I went over to the Curtis house later. When my father was gone, I would eat either at the Curtis house or the Mathews house. He always left me money for lunch at school and to go out on the weekends, but food was scarce in the house when he was away. Not much was in the house other than cereal, milk, bread, and peanut butter.
Darry was the only one home whenever I got to the house. I guessed Soda went back to work and I knew Pony hadn't left his track practice yet.
"Hello, Darrel," I said when I walked into the kitchen. He had a bag of peas waiting for me to shell.
"Hello, Brooklyn," Darry smiled at me the way he always did, closed lipped and quick. He hardly ever smiled. Darry used to be real different. He used to be like Soda and Ponyboy smashed together: smart and sweet, but also laughing and smiling. Losing his parents and having to take on the boys as responsibilities hardened him but quick.
"Darry, when you were movin' your parents stuff around, did you find a letter with mine and Dally's names on it?" He looked over at me like I was crazy. I just kept shelling.
"I wasn't snooping, I swear. But when me and Pony were workin' on that project and he sent me up to the attic to find some yarn, I found a letter in your momma's knitting basket. It had our names on it."
Darry moved from where he was standing at the stove to sit across from me at the table. He crossed his arms over his chest. Not for the first time, I noticed how big Darry is. It looked like his arms were just aching to burst out of his sleeves. Never would I wish to be on the other end of his fist.
"I didn't know anything about it. Who was it from?" I looked over to the clock. I didn't want Ponyboy or especially not Soda to walk in while I was talking to Darry. I felt like I could tell Darry the truth. He would understand. Even though Pony thought that all Darry cared about was getting onto him, the rest of us knew that Darry was always looking out for all of us. He was the oldest, and when he stepped into the role of father for Soda and Pony, he did it for all of us. Twenty was mighty young for that, but he carried the weight.
"It was from my mother," I said, focusing on the peas I was shelling. They were all alike. Perfectly round, green peas falling from their safe sleeves to the bowl.
"She said she was sorry. That was all." Darry opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by a very excited Ponyboy. He tore through the door like I'd never seen. He was calling Darry's name, and when he found him, he grabbed his arm. Pony's hair was still off, half of it being bleached and the other half his natural red-brown.
"Darry, guess what? I made it! I get to run for state. I just barely got through the qualifying round, but I did it!" Pony was practically bouncing he was so happy.
"That's great, little buddy!" I knew Darry saying that made Ponyboy real happy. He was even happier whenever Darry rubbed his head hard but loving, like he did to Soda. Pony started telling Darry all about his qualifying run and how if the school makes it to regionals, he'll get to go to Santa Fe, New Mexico. I was only a year older than Ponyboy, but for some reason I felt years older than him while I watched him smile and motion.
I smiled and went back to shelling peas. It didn't take long for Sodapop to get home, and then the story had to be repeated once again. Soda picked him up and spun him. I wondered how much longer he'd be able to do that. Pony was growing fast.
During supper, Soda kept catching my eye. I guess I should have known something was coming my way. It was my turn to wash and his turn to dry after supper. I almost dropped one of the slippery plates when I tried to hand it to him, and we both reach for it at the same time. I caught it before he could, but his hand closed over mine anyway.
"That was almost bad," he said and offered me a smile. I just pushed the plate toward him. We were reaching the end of our dishes when he talked again.
"Do you want to talk about today?" His brown eyes were boring into my cheek. I didn't look up at him. I hardly ever looked people in the eye anymore. Dally never did, either. He'd always look a little up or a little down when talking to people, unless he was about to fight them.
"Nope," I said, handing him the last dish. Sodapop didn't make any effort to hide his sigh. He didn't ask again that night.
It was dark by the time the dishes were done. Even with the new pact with the Socs, walking alone at night didn't feel safe in the least bit. When Soda offered to walk me home, I let him, even though I was worried he'd go to asking me questions again.
We didn't talk much, just about school and mostly Ponyboy. The whole gang had taken to watching Ponyboy like he was a baby. We just couldn't help it. He was the youngest and he'd been through more than a fourteen year old should.
When we got to my door, I turned to tell Soda bye. He hugged me instead, pulling me against him and wrapping his arms around me tight before I could do anything about it. I was short enough that he could rest his head on top of mine.
"One day, Brookie, you're gonna want to talk. When that day comes, I'll be here for you." He held onto me until I hugged him back. I hadn't been held in a long time. It felt weird. Soda let go after a while. Whenever he did, I'm sure I was blushing.
"'Night, Sodapop," I said and went inside before he could say anything back. I didn't know how to act during that whole ordeal. It made me embarrassed, to be honest.
I figure I should have known then I'd end up falling in love with him.