Chapter Four

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I spent the whole day with Ponyboy on that rainy, emotional Thursday. We walked around town, shoplifting snacks and Cokes from different gas stations and corner stores. I even snagged us an umbrella from one. We walked around all over the city. We ventured everywhere; from the socy areas full of housewives could be seen through their front windows wearing dresses and dusting furniture, all the way to the worst of the worst greaser areas, where Tim Shepard's gang ran rampant and prostitutes roamed freely without a care in the world.
After several hours of waking we finally stopped at an abandoned park. All but three of the nine swings that once allowed children to soar through the air with delight, were broken or missing. The slides were covered in graffiti and rusted to all hell. The merry-go-round was completely broken, ripped out of the ground and plopped over on its side. Ponyboy sat down on one of the swings that were left standing, and I grimaced slightly, knowing his jeans, and maybe even his boxers, were going to be soaked with rain. He took a long drag off a cigarette and blew the smoke into the atmosphere. He repeated this process several more times before tossing his used-up cigarette into the damp wood chips at our feet.
"Hey, Bryon?" I looked up from my place beside Pony's swing to see him looking at me, a curious expression residing on his young face. I realized a long time ago that Ponyboy Curtis was a handsome kid, maybe that's part of why I always hated him so much, but there was a lot about him I hadn't realized before Mark left. Like for instance, Ponyboy had real intense eyes— they were grey-green, mostly green though, and told a thousand stories of hardships within their gaze. It made him seem real tough.
"Yeah?" My reply came in a low voice, much lower than I had intended. The kid next to me didn't seem to notice though.
"Why're you trying to be all friendly with me? I know you hated my guts before. Mark told me a lot about it. How he'd try to invite you along to hang with us an' you'd get real mad and say how you never wanted to be around you'd rather die than see my face."
I wasn't expecting those words to leave the littlest Curtis' mouth. It shocked me a lot, but also filled me with shame. Guilt pooled in my stomach and I looked away from Ponyboy's desperate eyes. Those eyes that I had once thought could seduce any girl in town now had my heart racing as I tried to come up with an excuse worthy of Pony's ears. I sighed deeply and opened my mouth to speak.
I don't know, Ponyboy. Honestly I don't. Once Mark got taken away, I kinda just let everything I cared about before go. Nothin' mattered ta me anymore. I was living without a purpose. Just kinda stumbling through the world aimlessly and miserable," I looked up from my shoes to see Ponyboy staring at me. His eyes made me want to hide myself. He just looked so desperate and defeated. "Look, Kid," I began once more. "That day I heard you gettin' clobbered, I just got up and ran. I don't know why, but I did. My whole body just screamed for me to find who was cussin' up that storm and I did. I found you. And I don't know what happened after that, really. I realized I didn't hate you— at least not anymore. And I realized that you're actually a pretty cool guy. You're easy to talk to..." I eventually trailed off, sick of my own meaningless rambling. My fingertips were ice cold, along with my nose. I grumbled to him about being cold and stuffed my hands in my pockets.
It seemed like an eternity before Ponyboy finally reacted. I expected him to call me an asshole, or something else like that, but instead he raised from the swing he'd been parked in and shuffled toward me. He walked until we were toe-to-toe, then he dropped his head against my chest and wrapped his arms tightly around my torso. "I never hated you, ya know?" His voice rang out in a whisper. "When Mark was around, I really wanted us all to be friends. Mark, you, and me— and Curly too. I really thought we could all be friends. Mark told me you didn't really like that he'd steal cars an' all that. But he thought you'd come around." He sniffled a little and rubbed his face further against my chest. "I miss him a lot, Bryon. I feel like everyone I care about, I lose."
I looked down at the mop of red hair against me and sighed sadly, wrapping my arms around him. I shushed him, rubbing a hand through his greased hair. His words cut me like a knife, but I wouldn't let him know that. One of us needed to be strong, and right then, I figured it should be me.
"Come on kid," I muttered, rubbing a hand down his back. "Let's get you home and out of the cold." I tried to lead Pony away, but he wouldn't unwrap himself from me. So I sighed and gave up. Opting to just hold him there until he let go of me on his own.
About ten minutes later, Ponyboy unlatched himself from me. "Okay," he whispered, sniffling quietly. He rubbed his eyes with his palms, and then wiped his nose on his jacket sleeve. "Can we leave now?" His voice was sheepish and embarrassed as he asked the question. I just nodded my head.
We walked away from the park, in the direction of the little home the Curtis family resides inside. The rain cleared up on our way there, making the umbrella I'd lifted useless. I tossed it into a bush once we were about a block away from the Curtis residence. I had my arm wrapped around Pony's shoulders the whole walk there. I didn't pull away until we were at the front gate of his house.
"Well," I began to say my goodbyes, but Pony cut me off.
"Do you want to come inside?" He asked in a low, shy voice. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment and his eyes were adverted to the ground beneath our feet. I smiled at the offer immediately.
"Uh, yeah, sure." Ponyboy lit up at my acceptance and grabbed my wrist excitedly, leading me inside. Our feet trudged through puddles on the concrete walkway leading to their front door. The breeze blew strong as Pony pulled open the screen door and unlocked the wooden door behind it, holding it open for me.
I stepped into the house, being greeted by silence. Nobody was home, I assumed. Afterall, it was 4:00 PM on a Thursday. "Everyone out?"
Ponyboy nodded quickly, pulling off his jacket and T-shirt. They both hit the ground with a loud, wet noise and he rushed into a room to my left and began rifling through a drawer. Presumedly for a change of clothes. I watched him from the corner of my eye as he pulled out a sweater three sizes too big for him and pulled it on before yanking down his rain-soaked jeans. They stuck to his legs like an octopus, so he had to sit down and kick them off his legs. When he gripped the waistband of his underwear, I decided it was time for me to turn away. My face got red with embarrassment as I looked around the living room, trying to ignore Ponyboy in the other room.
Before long though, Pony emerged in his new outfit, a giant, wooly sweater with burgundy and black stripes running horizontally across the chest and a pair of baggy grey sweatpants. He smiled at me, holding out a folded pair of clothes for me to change into since I was just as soaked as he was. "Thank you," I said shyly. "Where is your," I was quickly cut off by Ponyboy speaking.
"The bathroom is down the hall to the right," he said matter-of-factly, pointing me toward the restroom. I thanked him and made my way to the bathroom. The door screeched loudly as I pulled it open, and even louder when I shut it the Curtis' change out in the open for that reason.
I looked at the clothes Ponyboy had given me; a grey T-shirt with Mickey Mouse on the front of it, a black zip-up hoodie, dark grey sweatpants and long white socks. I yanked off my top and it slapped against the sink with a sloop noise. It made me grimace, but I just hurried and changed clothes. I rushed back to the living room, tucking my wet clothes under my arm.
When I came back into the living room, Ponyboy was sitting on the couch watching TV, towel-drying his hair. I cleared my throat, causing Pony to snap his head in my direction. He smiled this big, goofy smile and patted the spot next to him on the couch. "You look good," he said as I sat. "The clothes fit okay?"
I nodded, rubbing a hand through my damp hair. "Yeah. Whose are they? They're too big for you, I know that." Pony smirked, letting his eyes drift back to the television.
"Yeah, they ain't mine. The pants are Soda's, Two-Bit left the T-shirt here a couple years ago, it don't fit him anymore, and the sweatshirt is Darry's." I chuckled lightly.
"So I'm just wearing a bunch of hand-me-down clothes then?" Not that minded, I was really comfortable if I'm being honest. Ponyboy hummed in response, a small smile playing the corner of his lips.
I looked around the room. It seemed kind of empty. The only real furniture was the couch Ponyboy and I occupied, the small television against the wall, a recliner, and a single small end table. Family photos littered the walls and a newspaper was sitting on the end table, the Sports section facing up.
Pony and I watched TV for about an hour until I felt a weight on my shoulder. It made me jump, but as I looked down I was faced with a mop of greased red hair. Ponyboy took in a deep breath through his nose and released it slowly, nuzzling his head against my arm. I smiled and dropped my head on top of his, letting my eyes fall shut. I guess Pony and I are going to be friends after all. The thought made me grin.

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