A/N:Request from emmy_writez!
TW: sensory issues, panic attacks, etc.
Disclaimer: This chapter features Sodapop experiencing symptoms of Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD). This chapter is partially based on my experiences with sensory issues, though I myself do not have SPD. I did lots of research and tried to portray it as accurately as possible, but at the end of the day I only have my experiences to go off of and I cannot guarantee that this is an accurate depiction. I tried my best to be as accurate as possible, but if you or someone you know has experienced this and you feel it is wildly inaccurate or portraying it in an offensive light please let me know!
August 1956
Darry: 11
Sodapop: 7
Ponyboy: 5
Margaret Curtis finally allowed herself to lay back and relax in the heat of the sun. She had accomplished what many would consider impossible; she had gotten the family out of the house early enough to get a good spot on the beach. She knew her boys were hoping for one last summer hurrah before school started, and what better way to spend a Saturday than on the beach of their favorite lake? The problem was, she knew that every other family in Tulsa likely had a similar idea. This led her to go against her better judgment and wake her children up early in an attempt to get a good spot by the lake. Against all odds, her plan had worked, and she could now sit back and relax on the shore.
She found it difficult to relax whenever her boys were in the water, always worried about the danger it may bring, but she allowed herself to rest assured that her husband was with them. Sure enough, she could see all three of her boys roughhousing with their dad in the water. It was one of the things she admired most about Darrel; no matter how tired he was, or how dirty he got, he was always willing to play hard with their boys.
With the Curtis encampment set up and the boys occupied by their father, Margaret wondered if she would actually start to read the book she had checked out from the library weeks ago. She had just cracked open the cover, though, when the sound of panicked shouting filled the air. The book fell into the sand, discarded, and Margaret rushed forward to see what was the matter. There she found Ponyboy, her youngest, with his fist frozen mid-air, having seemingly thrown something. Her eyes followed the likely trajectory of his throw and landed on Sodapop, who stood frozen in place, breathing heavily. Darrel and Darry stood close by, clearly confused by the shouting as well.
"What's going on?" Margaret demanded
Ponyboy's eyes welled up with tears. "I didn't mean to!" he shouted.
Sodaop continued to stand, his arms and legs spread into the open air, frozen.
"Didn't mean to what?" asked Margaret.
"There's sand. All over me," declared Sodapop.
Margaret and Darrel laughed. "We're at the beach, of course you're going to have sand on you," Darrel said.
"It's mixed with the water and it's between my toes and on my face and underneath my fingernails and—" Sodapop could scarcely finish his sentence before bursting into tears.
Margaret and Darrel glanced at each other, knowing that they had made the wrong move by laughing. Soda had been known to be sensitive to certain textures in the past, but it had never resulted in a full-blown meltdown. She knew that she needed to act fast, though. She rushed to grab a clean beach towel and scooped her seven-year-old into her arms without a moment's hesitation. He began to kick and scream in protest, causing Ponyboy to meltdown as well, as he felt the whole mess was his fault.
Darrel moved to scoop up Ponyboy and comfort him, causing Darry to roll his eyes. All he wanted was to play in the water, now he had to go back to the beach and watch his parents hold his screaming brothers. He just hoped none of his friends were around to see the ruckus they were causing.
Margaret quickly began wiping the sand off of Sodapop, gently shushing him as she went. The feeling of the sand rubbing against his skin, though, seemed to only make things worse. Margaret quickly switched to patting it off of him instead, listening to Soda's sobs as he struggled to breathe.
"You've gotta take deep breaths, baby. In and out, that's it," coached Margaret.
Slowly but surely, Soda's breathing began to return to normal and the crying sounds subsided. Darrel had managed to get Ponyboy somewhat calm as well, leaving all five Curtises to sit in silence on the beach. Darrel noticed his oldest son getting antsy, though, and offered to take him and Ponyboy back out to the water.
"You coming Pepsi?" Darrel asked, hoping Soda's favorite nickname would cheer him up. Soda simply shook his head, though, burying his face into his mother's neck.
The three boys made their way back out to the water, leaving Margaret and Sodapop alone.
"You alright, baby?" she asked, stroking his hair.
Soda didn't reply, seemingly embarrassed by his outburst.
"It's okay if the beach isn't your favorite, we can come better prepared next time so you have some activities to do that don't mix sand and water. How does that sound?"
Soda nodded at that, glad his mother didn't seem too upset at his behavior.
"Sorry for being so loud, I just don't like that feeling," Soda admitted, sheepishly.
"That's alright sweetie," Margaret said, planting a kiss on top of his head, "that's alright."
She held her son close and before long she could tell he had drifted off in her arms. She settled back into her chair, closed her eyes, and finally allowed herself to relax.