Angel

Darry

Darry POV

After my parents were killed in a car wreck, I had to take their place in the family. Now I was in charge of my three younger siblings: my brother, Sodapop; my brother, Ponyboy; and my sister, Angel. Soda was sixteen, Pony was fourteen, and Angel was six.

I was making dinner in the kitchen when I heard the door slam. "Dally!" I heard Angel shout, and her tiny footsteps softly echoed in the other room.

Dallas had a soft spot for my sister. They were friends, despite the eleven-year age difference. Dally often stole things for her, or took her to the park, or let her sit on his lap to watch Mickey Mouse.

"Heya, kid," Dally grinned. He only ever smiled for Angel, or when he was about to do something illegal.

"Look what I did at school yesterday!" she eagerly said, holding up a slightly wrinkled paper from her kindergarten class.

Dallas traced the sloppily written letters with his finger. "Look at what you can do! You're gettin' so old," he laughed.

Angel giggled and pulled more papers out of her backpack-number lines, art projects, and so on. She always showed Dally her school projects before anyone else saw them. It hurt a little, seeing that her own brothers weren't even the first to see them, but I knew when I put her to bed that night, she'd say something like "I forgot to show you my papers" or "I can't go to bed until you see my school stuff."

I pulled the roast chicken out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool. "Dinner's done!" I shouted to everyone.

Angel came running in. She looked at the chicken and wrinkled her nose. "No," she said stubbornly.

I sighed. As with most six-year-olds, I could never tell if she would eat what I made. Sometimes, she dug right into whatever meal I'd cooked, but other times, she wanted nothing to do with it. So, I quickly made her a PB&J sandwich while Ponyboy and Sodapop wandered in.

"Hey Winston. You stayin' for dinner?" I asked.

"Sure, man."

We only had four seats at our small table, so Dallas took Angel's seat and pulled her onto his lap. She giggled when he started bouncing his leg. I smiled, though. After my mother died, the only one that could trigger Dally's soft side was my sister.

"Darry, this is good," Soda said, his mouth full.

"Yeah," Ponyboy agreed, also in the middle of a bite.

There was another slam of the door. Less than a minute later, the laugh of a cartoon mouse could be heard from the television in the other room.

"Must be Two-Bit," I said.

Dally bounced his knee again. "If you eat quickly, we can go watch Mickey Mouse," he told Angel.

Her eyes glowed, and she nodded vigorously. Her little hands grabbed the sandwich, and she started taking the biggest bites she could.

"Slow down, kiddo. You're gonna get sick," I gently warned.

Angel ignored me. In fact, I think she started eating faster, if that was possible. She finished the last bit of her food and licked her fingers. Dallas picked her up and placed her on his shoulders, and they went into the other room.

"Ponyboy, did you do your homework?" I asked.

"No," he mumbled.

"You gotta stop procrastinating, Pony. If you get good grades, you can get a scholarship and go to college."

"I'm trying, okay?"

"'Trying' isn't gonna be good enough. You're gonna have to-"

Sodapop cut in, "Lay off him, Darry. He's not you, ya know."

I slumped back slightly and stayed silent.