Sick Days

Dreadful Morning

Ponboy's POV

It's early Monday morning, and I'm wide awake. I could barely sleep last night, and I feel like a zombie.

I swing my legs over onto the floor and try to stand. A wave of nausea passes over me and I sit back on the bed. My head is pounding and my stomach is churning.

 I attempt to stand up again, and a soft groan escapes my lips. 

Then Soda bounds into the room. 

 "Hey, kiddo," he says. 

"Hey, Soda," I say, stifling a groan. 

He suddenly looks concerned as he asks, "Are you okay, little buddy?" 

I reply, "I'm okay. I couldn't fall asleep last night." 

Soda looks doubtful but he buys it. "Alright. As long as you're sure." 

"I am," I reassure him. He gives me a grin before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

My head swims as I walk over to the closet and open the doors. I have to put my hand on the wall to steady myself because the threat of passing out is near. I pick out my cleanest pair of clothes and put them on. 

Darry's at the table reading his newspaper and glances up when I walk into the kitchen. 

"Soda said you couldn't sleep last night. Nightmare?" 

I say, "Yeah." Nightmares have become more common with every day that's passed since Johnny and Dally's deaths. 

Darry inquires, "Do you remember what it was about?"

"No," I reply, and Darry gives me a look.

Instead of saying anything, he checks his watch and says, "We're going to leave in five minutes."

I nod and then go into the bathroom. The nausea is becoming worse with every passing minute. 

I rummage through the cupboard and find some aspirin. I take five, even though Darry wouldn't like it.

I look at myself in the mirror and wonder how I'm fooling anyone. 

I look like a ghost. My skin is pale, my eyes sunk, and I look like I could fall over at any moment. 

In fact, I feel like I could fall over at any moment. Looking down at my hands, I notice I'm shaking. 

"Shit," I mutter.

I let out a heavy sigh and head out into the living room to grab my jacket and shoes. I toss my backpack on as Darry comes into the living room. He grabs his wallet off the coffee table and then we head out into the cold. 

Darry starts his truck and we get inside. As he pulls out of our driveway, I lean my head against the window, willing my stomach to stop hurting and for my headache to go away. 

Darry looks over at me and asks, "You ready for that chemistry test today?" 

I groan and say, "No, not really." 

At Darry's reproving look, I say, "I'll try my best." 

He rounds the corner and slows at the light. His hands grip the steering wheel hard and I know he doesn't appreciate my answer.

"Pony..." he starts, but I shake my head. 

"Leave it alone, Dar."

He lets out an irritated sigh but doesn't say anything more. 

Once we get to the school, I grab my backpack and say goodbye to Darry before getting out of the truck. I start walking towards the school and glance up at the large building, dreading the long day ahead of me.