Something big is coming," I announced to nobody in particular.

But the steady scrape of metal against dirt never let up. Soda and Steve had gotten the bright idea in their heads to dig themselves a swimming pool in the abandoned lot, desperate to escape the relentless Tulsa heat. They'd been at it for two days already, and had barely cleared enough space for a bathtub.

I took a step closer to the edge of the hole. "Really big," I said, louder this time.

Steve finally stopped chipping rocks out of the parched earth and squinted at me. "Oh, yeah? Says who?" he asked, swiping the sweat off his brow.

Clutching a fistful of my blouse, I lifted my chin, and stoutly declared, "I can feel it in my breast."

Soda let out a huff of laughter. "In your… your what?!"

"Can't be that big then, I reckon," Steve snorted, and my ears went pink.

"Would you two quit?" I snapped, kicking a pile of dirt into the hole. "That's just an expression."

Steve smirked, taking up his shovel again. "Is that so? Well, the next time your tits have an epiphany, let us know if they predict something useful - like the end of this miserable heatwave."

I clenched my fists, but before I could really lay into Steve, Soda held up a hand, declaring a ceasefire. He drove the tip of his shovel straight into the earth and planted his hands on his hips. With Soda standing in the trench, we were nearly the same height.

"Alright, Mickie Mouse," he said patiently. "What is it you think is coming?"

I hesitated, my eyes darting around in search of the right words. "Well… I don't know exactly," I admitted, picking a burr off the hem of my skirt. "I can just feel it."

Soda nodded slowly. "I see. We'd better keep an eye out then."

Steve threw his head back and groaned. "You've gotta be kidding me."

But before he could protest the lunacy of goose-stepping to the imagined prophecies of some snot-nosed kid any further, our conversation was interrupted by the roar of an approaching engine. The mail truck was cresting the ridge, lumbering into the neighborhood, the sun gleaming off its windshield.

Soda turned with a grin and clapped me on the back. "Well, look at that, kid. You were right."

Steve scoffed. "Glory, predicting the mailman is real groundbreaking stuff. Maybe next she can tell us when lunch is."

I frowned. This wasn't at all what I had meant. It was something else, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Soda and Steve went back to their digging, the rhythmic scrape of their shovels blending into the background noise of the neighborhood. I kicked at a loose clod of dirt, watching it crumble, but didn't have a chance to dwell on it further. Soda's eyes flicked up as Ponyboy and Johnny cut across the far end of the lot. He let out a sharp whistle, waving them over.

They both came running when Sodapop called. Not enough sense between the two of them not to go zooming around getting sun-stroke. Their faces were flushed from the heat, and they looked a little worse for wear when they finally sidled up.

"Hey, y'all," Pony called out, breathless. "Still at it?"

Steve shot a sour glare at him. "What's it look like, genius?"

"Where were you going?" I wondered aloud. Only one kid we knew lived in the direction they'd been heading, and he'd gone away to the shore for the summer.

"Oak Road," Pony told us, his voice cracking. "Dally opened a hydrant by the duplexes. It's like a water park over there."

Soda raised his eyebrows hopefully. "What do you think? Wanna go check it out?"

Steve didn't even look up. "Compete with a bunch of twerps for a spot by the hydrant? I'd rather keep digging," he muttered, though the heat seemed to be wearing on him as well.

Soda rolled his eyes. There was no point trying to talk sense to Steve when he was in one of these moods. Ponyboy watched silently for a moment.

"So, how are you figuring on filling this thing?" he asked.

Steve paused, mid-swing, and looked up, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Ponyboy blinked at him. "The pool. Where's the water coming from?"

I shook my head as Steve's face fell. He and Soda exchanged glances, realization hitting them in tandem.

Soda shrugged sheepishly. "Guess we didn't think that far ahead."

For a moment, Steve just stood there, staring at the half-dug hole. Then he let out a sigh and tossed his shovel aside, his shoulders slumping.

"Great, just great," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Soda's eyes lit up. "Does that mean we don't have to dig no more?"

"It ain't a pool without water, Sodapop," Steve bit out. "It's just a damn hole in the ground."

Soda chuckled good-naturedly. "Guess we're done here, then," he said, tossing his own shovel down.

Ponyboy nodded, his lips twitching into a half-smile. "The light dawns at last," he drawled.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Soda asked, stepping out of the hole. "Come on, Mickie. Let's go."

I started to follow, but Ponyboy caught me by the arm. "I almost forgot; Mom's looking for you."

"Aw, what for?" I whined, annoyed. "Can't it wait?"

Pony shrugged. "Beats me. Said to send you home, if I saw you."

I cursed under my breath. This wasn't fair. I didn't want to miss out, especially not on a day like this.

"Pony, listen," I pleaded, lowering my voice. "Just pretend you haven't seen me, okay?"

Ponyboy's green eyes darted to Soda. "But… isn't that as good as lying?"

Johnny, who never said much of anything, gave Pony a nudge with his elbow. "C'mon, man."

"Yeah - don't be a snitch, Ponybaby," Steve snarled, giving him a shove as he walked by.

Pony stiffened. He always took Steve's wisecracks to heart.

"I ain't no snitch," he blustered, but Steve waved him off, already taking long strides across the lot.

"Atta boy, Pone!" Soda laughed, before loping off too.

If it wasn't so hot, I could've hugged him, but settled for slugging him in the arm instead.

"Just for a little while," I promised, darting after Soda and Steve. "Thanks, Pony!"

Falling into stride beside them, I still couldn't shake the sense that something had shifted. Maybe it was just the heat getting to me too, but something felt different. It wasn't the mail truck, or even the looming threat of a neighborhood-wide water fight. It was something larger. Not a premonition exactly, more like a question mark scrawled across the dusty canvas of the day. I shook it off, determined not to let anything spoil the moment. Whatever it was, it was out there, just waiting for us to catch up.