𝓲𝓷𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓮 • 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓾𝓽𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼

4. 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓸𝓴

                       ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
                  𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗𝚗𝚢'𝚜 𝙿𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚅𝚒𝚎𝚠
                       ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
a few more days passed by, each one going slower than the other. dallas and i mostly spent our days talking to one another about anything while everyone else was at school or work.

it was now saturday. everyone was off work and school, and now everyone was at the curtis house. dallas and i stood in the kitchen and observed while the others carried on, drank, and just enjoyed each other's company.

everyone was stationed in the living room. well, almost everyone. pony hadn't come out of his room willingly since running to sodapop a few days ago about cherry.

poor kid, he really believed he could have something with that gal. hell, i thought he could too.

dinners had been really awkward. dallas and i would watch as soda and darry ate silently at the dining table.

darry had forced pony to come out and eat with them the night of the occurrence, not knowing why he was upset. sodapop explained to him after dinner, because he knew damn well that pony wouldn't be saying anything to him.

darry didn't even see it as a big deal. when soda explained it to him, all he said was, "we've got bigger things to worry about than some worthless teenage heartbreak. he'll get over it."

dallas and i turned to each other once that was said, and later talked to each other about it. i defended pony, stating that "cherry doing that to him was just the 'cherry' on top of the shitty sundae of life their dealing with right now."

dally, however, stated that he understand where darry was coming from, and that he was just stressed. either way, we both concluded that darry was wrong.

the group made their way out with their cigarettes and beers to smoke, leaving me and dallas inside by ourselves.

a few moments after the door shut, dallas sighed and turned to face me. "so much has changed, but really nothing has changed at all."

i tilted my head to the side, confused, and said, "what do you mean?"

"i mean," he paused for a moment, trying to plan how he was going to put it into words, "we're gone. we're...dead. that's a whole chunk out of the gang, but they still hangout for the most part, as if we never died. they're smokin', drinkin', carrying on, and just being the losers they've always been."

i nodded, now understanding what he meant. "that's true, but more's different than the same."

"well, what're you thinking?"

i hopped up and onto the counter. "i'm thinking that they're really not the same. on the outside, sure, because they'll never show how they're affected on the outside. on the inside, that chunk you mentioned is gone out of them. not to mention, pony is sitting in his room, doing who knows what while everyone else is hanging out."

dallas nodded. "you're right. i forget about the kid sometimes. less now than a while back, but still. he just seems to blend in too well, and he ain't never came to me about anything. do you think the guys outside have forgotten about him right now?"

i sighed and dropped my head. "i hate to say it, but more than likely, yes. i'm thinking all of them have except for soda. he checked on him before going outside and he let him know that's where they'd be."

"poor kid. i've always felt bad for him, but more than ever now. shoot, i wonder what he's doing right now anyways."

an idea popped into my head an i turned back to face dallas. "well, wanna go see?"

he nodded. i gingerly slid off the counter and we walked side-by-side to pony's and soda's room. after him, i went through the old bedroom door to find pony sitting at his desk, doing something.

dallas and i stood beside each other and silently watched him. we could see his hand moving on the desk, possibly writing something down.

we both looked at each other before dallas spoke up. "after you." he said softly, motioning for me to walk closer to pony. i complied and step-by-step walked to his side.

i placed my hand on the back of his chair as dallas met me at the desk. we both looked down to see him writing in an old, faded blue notebook.

i leaned down a bit, just to be able to see what he was writing. "boy, she was good-looking. i'd seen her before; she was a cheerleader at our school."

thats when i knew he was talking about cherry.

cherry valance.

the same, red-headed, soc girl who broke his poor, young heart.

i continued to read as his hand plastered new words onto the paper. "i'd always thought she was stuck-up. dally merely looked at her and kept his feet where they were."

at first, i was confused, until dally tapped my shoulder and whispered, "he's narrating the night at the nightly-double when he met her."

it all hit me as i started looking back at previous sentences. he was narrating the whole night, and he was doing it well.

i always knew ponyboy loved to write, but i never saw him as an author. out of all the these he could've been doing when we came in, recalling, writing down and narrating the night he met cherry valance was one i wasn't expecting.

i was a bit in shock, staring at the sheet, until dallas tapped my shoulder again. "i think we should go, let him have his time to write. it's obvious he's hurting right now."

i nodded and dallas followed me out of the bedroom. we reclaimed our spots in the kitchen as the guys came in and reclaimed their spots in the living room, or at least tried to snag one before they were all taken.

dallas and i sat and listened in on their conversations, but i zoned out most of the time, thinking about pony. i sure was worried about that kid; he lost his two best friends, he lost the girl of his dreams, he's arguing with his brother, and he's being left out all in the span of a few weeks.

the kid is only 14, and he's endured more than most adults have. nobody gives him enough credit for how strong he truly is. i'm proud of him.