A/N:Request from cant_be_arsed! Enjoy!

(This one-shot spans a couple of years but here's the starting date/ages)

June 1955

Darry: 10

Sodapop: 6

Ponyboy: 4

Darry ran his hands over the cracked leather of the steering wheel before moving one hand to hover over the gear shift. He pretended to move it in the zigzag pattern he had seen his father do a million times before moving to test the blinker and windshield wipers. He decided then he felt ready to drive for real.

"Can I have the keys, Dad?" he asked.

His father peered from behind the hood where he had been fixing the truck, laughing.

"You've gotta be sixteen to drive, Darry, and last I checked you still had about six years to go," Darrel replied.

Darry sighed, knowing his dad was right. Still, six years felt like an eternity. Sixteen couldn't come fast enough.

— — — — — — — — — —

Darry stared out the passenger window, watching the scenery fly by in a blur. He and his dad had driven out to Oklahoma City to get some supplies his dad needed for work, and the drive home seemed to be taking forever. It wasn't the most ideal way for a fourteen-year-old to spend a Saturday, but he was glad to have his dad to himself without his pesky little brothers in the way.

A sudden sharp turn to the right broke Darry from his thoughts. He turned to face forward and discovered that his dad had turned into an abandoned field in the middle of nowhere.

"What's wrong?" Darry asked, figuring it was something with the truck. This thing had been having problems since before he could walk.

Darrel slowed the car to a stop. "Nothing's wrong, I just thought it was time you got a little practice in."

"Practice for what?" asked Darry.

His father answered by unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car, motioning for Darry to slide over to his seat.

"What, you mean driving?" Darry asked, thinking it was too good to be true. He was still two years from being able to drive, and he figured his dad would make him wait at least a year before he got to practice.

"Yup, it's time you learn the basics. Hard to mess up out here in the middle of nowhere," Darrel replied.

Darry slid over to the driver's seat and eagerly gripped the steering wheel. He had been imagining this moment for years, and it was finally here.

"Hold your horses, we've gotta teach you how to start the car before you can drive it," Darrel said.

After they had gone over the basics of starting, stopping, using the blinkers, windshield wipers, and gear shift, Darrel decided his son was ready.

"Alright, you can put it into drive now," Darrel said, smiling at the enthusiasm he could see on his son's face.

Darry repositioned his hands on the steering wheel and mentally prepared himself to lift his foot off the brake. After years of waiting he was ready to take off and drive into the sunset. He lifted his foot off the brake and pressed his foot on the gas, ready to kick up dust behind the wheels.

"STOP!" Darrel shouted.

Darry slammed his foot on the break, nearly hitting his head on the steering wheel. In hindsight, he maybe should've gone a little easier on the gas pedal, and even easier on the brake.

The night continued, and after many failed attempts, Darry finally mastered the art of accelerating and braking without risking a concussion for anyone in the car.

"Alright, I think that's enough for now. Switch me spots," said Darrel.

Darry was sad to give up his spot as the driver but slid over anyway. His father drove the rest of the way home, back to the madness that was his two little brothers. Driving was a lot harder than he thought, but still. He was no stopping him now.

— — — — — — — — — —

"Come here honey, let me get a photo."

Darry groaned and rolled his eyes, the embarrassment he was feeling evident on his face. He knew better than to refuse his mother's request for a photo, though, so he obliged. He held his brand-new license up and posed in front of the DMV, smiling for the camera. His mother beamed back at him encouragingly, while his father held back his laughter from behind her. After a few photos were taken Margaret finally put the camera down, revealing her teary eyes.

"I can't believe you're sixteen, seems like just yesterday I held you in my arms for the first time," she choked out.

"Mo-om, please not here!" Darry groaned.

Darrel laughed at his son's embarrassment once again, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"He's practically a man now, he doesn't need us anymore!" Darrel shouted, only embarrassing his son further.

"Can we just go home now, please? If we don't go now Soda and Pony are gonna eat all the cake before I get a chance to blow out any candles on it." Darry whined.

"Okay okay, we can go. But you're driving," Darrel said.

— — — — — — — — — —

The heat of a summer day had made its way into the truck and trapped itself there, making the cab feel sweltering. Darry rolled down all of the windows, enjoying the breeze provided by the moving car. He imagined he was driving down the coast of California, on his way to his beach house where he spent summers vacationing.

In reality, he was simply on his way back from the grocery store after picking up a few items for his mom. One thing they don't tell you about driving is that your parents will start using you as their own personal errand-runner. Darry didn't mind too much, though. He liked driving. He knew he wasn't going to be getting his own car like most of the guys on the football team, so he was glad for any opportunity to drive his dad's. Plus, he figured his parents were more likely to let him borrow the truck if he ran errands for them.

Darry carefully parked the truck on the curb, knowing that if he scratched the car he wouldn't be driving until he bought his own. He carried the groceries inside and was greeted by a too-energetic Sodapop on the couch.

"Hey Dar, you're finally home! How was the grocery store?" Soda asked.

Darry raised an eyebrow at his younger brother. He was never this interested in Darry or the grocery store. Something was up.

"What do you want Soda?" Darry asked, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, I was just wondering if you wanted to drive me and Steve to the rodeo this weekend?" Soda asked, crossing his fingers behind his back.

"The rodeo's like an hour away Soda, I'm not driving you there," protested Darry.

"You know, if I could drive and you couldn't I would always give you a ride," argued Soda.

Darry had to laugh at that. "Okay Soda, just remember that when you're old enough to drive and Pony needs a ride. Better you than me."

— — — — — — — — — —

Darry sat at the kitchen table, mulling over the bills that lay in front of him. Pony's hospital bills from last fall were finally rolling in, and things were going to be tight for a while.

A sudden slam of the door indicated that Sodapop was home, coming from his shift at the DX.

"Hey Soda," called Darry.

"Hey Dar," replied Soda, tiredly.

"Long day?"

"The longest."

The two brothers sat in silence, Soda tired from his shift, Darry tired just thinking about the extra shifts he was going to have to work to pay for all of this.

Their silence was interrupted by the shrill shriek of the phone ringing. Soda reluctantly got up from the kitchen table to answer it.

"Hello? Oh hey Pone. Yeah, we can. Darry's right here, lemme ask him."

Soda turned to his older brother. "Hey Darry, Pony needs a ride home from the movies. Wanna go pick him up?"

Darry felt a smile creeping up on his face. All this time and he was finally able to use Sodapop's words against him.

"I think you're forgetting, Little Buddy. 'If I could drive and you couldn't I would always give you a ride.' Go on and spread your kindness to the youngest Curtis, just like you promised," Darry gloated.

Sodapop glared at his brother, knowing the exact conversation he was referring to. He figured his words would be back to haunt him eventually.

"I'll be there in ten minutes, Pony."