“No way man, she hates my guts!” Soda hissed, flipping Steve off who had started making kissing noises. It was hard for Sodapop to keep his voice low, Ponyboy had crashed as soon as they had gotten home, too tired to even tell anyone the full story, and had been out for the rest of the morning and afternoon. And now here was Two-Bit, practically asking him to chop his left arm off.
“Who hates your guts?” Johnny asked. He seemed bored laying there all by his lonesome, his dark eyes trained up at Soda.
“Never mind,” Soda huffed, crossing his arms. “I’m not going.” Something in the way Two-Bit smiled made the boy nervous. He was holding something back and Soda wasn’t afraid to hit him something good for that information. “What are you smiling about?”
“What if I told you that the guy who messed up Pony’s face is gonna be there,” Two-Bit spilled, sitting back in his chair smugly and folding his arms across his chest.
“Ms. Carter aiding the enemy! And then helps the victim! Details at eleven!” Steve warbled. “Whattya think Soda. An eye for an eye? He messes with us we mess with him?”
Sodapop felt trapped. How could he refuse an offer to get back at the dam* Soc’s that thought it would be funny to hurt his little brother. He couldn’t help but think about what a coincidence it was that Toni was related to a low-life, power seeking, son of a b*tch. “Who was it?” He finally asked.
“The guys name is Lance Purple or something. He’s Toni’s cousin.”
“Tuff name,” Steve grumbled.
“How do you know he’s even gonna show? You got yourself into the whole dinner party thing Mathews. Don’t be expectin’ to drag me into this,” Soda said heatedly. They all froze when they heard a stirring and then a soft, “Soda?”
“Dam* guys. Can’t keep your traps shut for two seconds can you?” Soda got up and made his way down the hall to the room he shared with Ponyboy.
“Honey bear’s crabby this morning,” Soda heard Two-Bit mumble.
“Honey bear can hear you.” Soda pushed the door open gently, partly because he didn’t want to wake Pony and partly because he was afraid it would full out come off its hinges. Darry needed to oil them but he never got around to it.
“Ponyboy? You awake honey?” Soda whispered. The room was dark with the shades drawn tight. It was hard to identify a body in the mass of pillows and blankets. Someone sat up and someone yawned.
“Where’s Darry?” Ponyboy asked, blinking sleepily.
“Work. He didn’t want to but I told him I would babysit you,” Soda chuckled. Ponyboy was too tired to protest.
“Don’t you have work too?” He said instead.
“Not today.”
“Oh, okay.” Ponyboy lay back down, staring up at the ceiling. “Soda?”
“Yeah kid?”
“I should have known better. I don’t know what came over me. I was being stupid. I wasn’t,” he laughed softly, “I wasn’t usin’ my head.”
“Is this the part where you tell me what happened?” Soda sat down beside Pony’s legs, looking over the blankets at him.
“I think so.”
“Start anywhere.”
The boy in the sweater grinned at him. It was a friendly grin and for a second there was doubt, but it was quickly erased as he waved. Ponyboy looked around, his eyes darting nervously across the schoolyard thinking that the boy must be mistaken. Yet, when Ponyboy turned back to look at him, he frowned and waved more urgently this time so Pony trotted over. He hoped he didn’t look foolish in front of the friendly Soc. The sweater was a deep red color and the Soc’s voice dropped when he spoke. Ponyboy strained to hear.
