"Don't you worry, Cary," Soda said, "we'll be with you."
I bit the inside of my cheek. The only thing pushing me forward was my mother's voice in my head. I knew that she would be there, too. In spirit. In my heart.
I swallowed, forcing myself to speak. "I'll do it."
As if I had much of a choice.
"That's my girl! "He smiled and opened his arms for a hug. "Just think, Jonathan's gonna be going to prison and it's all gonna be 'cause of you." His voice was cheery and soft as usual, but I knew he was just trying to make me feel better. He wasn't truly happy about it—if anything, he was just as upset as Darry. He just hid it better.
After we separated, the air went quiet and tense. I looked down in my lap, where my hands clasped together and then pulled apart, over and over. It was weird that watching them argue was more comforting than my brothers' pitifully sympathetic gazes.
Maybe it wasn't weird, actually.
After a painfully long time of silence, Darry finally spoke up. "You know when you're leaving?"
I shook my head.
He stood up suddenly, sighing. "They don't tell you nothin' here, do they?" He muttered as he left the room.
We all watched as he stormed down the hall, to which Soda shook his head and followed him out.
The door closed with a click, and Ponyboy looked at me. It was a strange expression, like one of pity, sympathy, and betrayal. I looked back at him and he sighed silently before turning towards the door.
"Pony," I said, to which he turned back and looked at me, a strange look of sadness in his eyes, "how's Johnny?"
He sucked in his breath, and for a brief moment, my heart stopped. "I just...I'm worried about him," I said softly.
"I dunno," he started, "he hasn't really talked much."
"He never talks much."
"I know, but..." he takes a breath, "he just seems off."
I felt myself draw a silent breath. I knew it. I knew he was upset about Nathan, and it was my fault.
As if reading my mind, he spoke up again. "I'm sure it's not anything you did, Cary."
That was the problem. It's not what I did, it's what I didn't do.
"Has he not come to visit you at all?" He asked, to which I shook my head.
He chewed the inside of his cheek. "Listen, I know y'all have got a thing goin' on, but—"
"You do?" My eyes grew wide as saucers, the color draining from my skin. He knew? How? How much did he know?
"Yes, Cary," he said matter-of-factly, "I would've known regardless of whether or not he told me. It's painfully obvious."
"He told you?" I asked, astonished.
"Of course he did. I'm his best friend." He leaned against the wall and hitched his thumbs through his jean loops, "How do you think he got the courage to ask you to homecoming?"
How much did Pony know? For all I know, he could've known about our kiss.
I put my head in my hands. I didn't want anybody to know. Well, later, but not now.
"Relax, Cary," he said, "it's not that big of a deal."
"It is, though, Pony!" I said, no longer able to contain my frustration. "He thinks I like Nathan." I scoffed. "Nathan, of all people!"
"Why would he think that? Y'all barely know each other."
"Remember what Soda said yesterday?"
He went silent and then sighed. "Listen, I'll talk to him."
"No, Pony—"
"I won't tell him anything," he interrupted me, "I'll just tell him to come visit you." He walked over to me and held his hand out, cocking an eyebrow. "Deal?"
I looked at him for a few seconds, shook my head, and then rolled my eyes as I smiled and shook his hand. "You're gettin' more and more like Two-Bit everyday, you know that, Pony?"
He grinned and let go of my hand. "Oh, shove off."
He backed away and peeked around the corner through the window, and quickly retreated back to his spot by the wall, and not long after, Soda and Darry came back in.
"Tomorrow," Darry said triumphantly, his eyes a bit less damp than before, "you're gettin' released tomorrow."
I smiled. Finally. Tomorrow, I would be free. Tomorrow, I could breathe fresh air.
Tomorrow, I could talk to Johnny.
He suddenly came over and gave me a hug. "We'll be back to pick you up sometime in the evening."
"You're leaving?"
"Yeah," he said, "Pony's got homework and it's nearly 6 o'clock."
I looked at the clock, shocked to see that he was right. It hadn't felt like 30 minutes that they'd been there, but it had been closer to an hour.
Pony scowled at the word 'homework' and shoved his fists into his pockets as Soda gave me a hug, almost as tight as the last.
As they all left and said their goodbyes, Ponyboy was the last out. "Seriously, Cary," he said as Soda and Darry walked off, "whatever you're worried about, I'm sure it's no big deal." He smiled at me gently. "I'll tell him to visit you tomorrow."
I smiled. "Thanks, Pony." Then, unexpectedly, I said something that I felt like I hadn't said enough. "I love you."
He smiled wider and his eyes twinkled. He would only ever admit it to me and maybe Soda, but he loved it when I said that to him. "I love you too, Cary."
And with that and another bright smile, he turned out of the room and hurried towards Soda and Darry.
I laid my head on the pillow again.
Tomorrow, Johnny.
Next week, homecoming.
The week after that, Jonathan's trial.
And as I laid with my eyes towards the ceiling, the fluorescent lights suddenly not hurting me anymore, I smiled.
I was ready. I was going to do it. Jonathan would be going to prison, and Johnny and I would be together.
For real this time. No more hiding.
All I had to do was talk to him and pray he hadn't already made up his mind.
~
(Johnny's POV)
I haggled along the sidewalk, kicking at rocks as I scowled at the ground.
I had become real good at it—scowling, I mean. I had this feeling in my head and I couldn't get it out. I didn't know why it was in there, and it bothered me.
But that was a lie. I knew why it was in there, I just chose to ignore it.
I hadn't gone to visit Cary since the day she was admitted—about three days. I felt bad, but couldn't bring myself to do it. I knew when I wasn't wanted.
That's what part of me said. The bitter part of me.
But most of my head told me I was overthinking it and just to go talk to her. Yet that small part of my brain fought against it, and I found myself in a war, walking the streets and sulking. Just clearing my head, that's what I told myself.
I was walking down a gravel road—don't know where, but that didn't really matter—when I heard the slow roll of tires come up behind me.
My heart skipped a beat, and I felt the color drain from my face. I fiddled with the bent cigarette in my pocket as I walked faster, the scar on my cheek suddenly burning as if it was fresh.
But I was quickly relieved when, as the car rolled by, I saw the familiar dusty-black, beat up Plymouth of Two-Bit's.
"Where do you think you're goin', Greaser?" He said in a low, gruff voice, uncharacteristic of his usual tone.
I rolled my eyes and looked towards him. "Hey, Two-Bit."
"Hey, Johnnycakes," he started, putting the car into park, and then I saw that Ponyboy was in the passenger seat.
"Two, I don't think you should park in the middle of the—"
"What you doin' skulkin' around here feelin' sorry for yourself?" He cocked an eyebrow, but I wasn't really in the mood for his jokes.
"None of your business."
"Uh oh," he said, "what happened? A girl break your heart?"
I knew he didn't know about me and Cary—at least, I hoped he didn't—but it still panged my heart. Cary didn't mean to. In fact, she didn't even do anything.
I was mad about something she didn't even do. You're being ridiculous, Johnny.
Pony and I eyed each other knowingly for a few seconds before I shook the thought away and just rolled my eyes. Two-Bit eyed me for a few seconds before patting the door of his car. "Hop in."
"Why?"
"I ain't leavin' you out here alone."
"I'm makin' do just fine on my own, thank you."
"Just get in the car, Johnny," Ponyboy piped up from next to him, and the sense of urgency in his voice and slight panic in his eyes made me climb in the back seat, not bothering to put my seatbelt on.
Two-Bit lurched the car forward, sending me into his seat in front of me. "Really, Two?"
"My bad, kids," he said as he started driving again.
"I don't know how you got your license, Two," Ponyboy said from beside him.
He looked in the rearview mirror and winked at me. "I didn't."
I shook my head.
"You're insane, Two-Bit. Outta your mind." Pony remarked.
"It's part of the charm," he batted his eyelashes, and I was afraid he couldn't see the road, "you two wouldn't understand."
I saw Ponyboy shake his head as he continued talking. "You see, pickin' up women is an art—"
"You're not very artistic then, are you?" Ponyboy said, smirking, and I had to hold back my laughter.
Two-Bit stayed silent as if he was hurt, but I knew it was only to make Ponyboy feel bad. Two-Bit didn't get offended by anything. "Well, ouch," he paused, "but I do have a girlfriend, you know. And guess who doesn't?" He paused again as if expecting us to answer. "You."
The last word felt like a sledgehammer to my chest, and as he drove on and talked about this and that, I stayed silent, trying to contain myself.
My mind was torn between confusion, anger, and a crippling feeling of loss. By the time he stopped the car, I had pulled myself together enough to face the two of them. I mostly wanted Two-Bit to leave, because I knew I could at least talk to Pony about it.
I saw that we had stopped in front of the Curtis house, and I followed Ponyboy out of the car and we both thanked Two-Bit for the ride.
"No problem, kids," he said, "and remember what I told you!"
As if I was listening to him.
I started to walk up the stairs as he drove off, but Ponyboy took a seat on one of the steps and looked at me as if inviting me to sit beside him. It was sort of a relief we were alone. As much as I hated to admit it, I really needed to talk to someone. Being alone and sad all the time was exhausting.
He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and handed one to me, flipping open his lighter and touching the dancing flame to both his and mine. He flicked it closed again before shoving it back in his pocket. I took a long drag, while he just let it dangle between his fingers. He looked at the setting sun for a little bit, and it was then that I realized why he hadn't yet gone inside. If he went in there, Darry wouldn't have let him watch the sunset.
"We went to see Cary today." He said finally, after many silent yet peaceful moments.
I felt my chest tighten, but forced myself to speak. "How is she?"
"Better," he said, "gettin' released tomorrow."
I nodded, unsure of what to say. Was I ready to face her? I would have to be.
"Listen, Johnny," he said somewhat sternly, "she's worried about you."
I turned to face him. Cary was worried about me? While she was the one in the hospital? I hated to admit it, but it just made me love her more.
"You need to visit her, Johnny." He said finally.
I took a breath. You wanted to talk about it. Well, here it is, Johnny. "She doesn't want me to visit her," I scoffed and looked at the sunset again, watching the golden yellow melt into orange, "she likes Nathan."
"What makes you think that?"
"Well—" I paused as I came up short of an answer. I really didn't know. It was just a feeling, I guess. A sense.
I sighed. "You ever gotten a feeling about something that you don't really know how to explain?"
He nodded.
"Well, there's your answer. It's a feeling."
"Well, it's wrong." I turned towards him again, but before I could say anything, he continued. "She doesn't like Nathan, Johnny. She likes you and only you. I can tell you that out of confidence." He paused, putting the cigarette to his lips. "As her brother."
I took a long drag on my cigarette, rolling my tongue to try and make a smoke ring.
Most of me wanted to believe Ponyboy, but there was still that one stubborn part that filled me with doubt. It plagued my brain and caused the war inside of me to grow more violent, until I suddenly stood up and tossed my cigarette on the ground, stomping it out with the heel of my shoe.
"I'll visit her," I said plainly, "thanks, Pony."
As I walked away and waved goodbye to Pony, who still sat on the porch steps, a pain welled up behind my eyes that built up to a pressure nearly unbearable. It wasn't until I looked up from the ground to find myself at the lot when I saw my vision was blurry, and I felt a hot stream fall from my eye and slowly trickle down my cheek. I wiped it with my sleeve, trying to silence my sobs as I took my place on an old car seat.Greasers weren't supposed to cry.
Go ahead and cry, Johnny. You can cry with me. Cary's voice like the song of bird ran through my head, only making it worse.
It was then that I realized I wasn't angry, I was scared. For Cary. All this time with no news on how she was doing had been killing me. She could've already been dead for all I knew, but my blinding anger and fear made me ignore what I really needed.
What she really needed.
I wasn't just scared for her, though, I was scared for me. For whatever the future would hold for me and Cary, if there even was a future.
As I clutched my hands close to my chest and curled next to the empty fire pit, I continued to cry, and there was nothing I could tell myself to stop it.
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I am SO SO SO sorry I haven't updated in almost 2 weeks, life has been super crazy as finals are coming up, so expect a weird schedule again for the next couple of weeks.
Love y'all. Stay gold.