˚ · .[𝐨𝐧𝐞]. · ˚

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"Oh, shit.", I hiss under my breath, when our eyes meet. I knew the second that the door to the DX jingled, Ponyboy was here with Two, yet when he walks into the shop where I am, my heart still isn't prepared. It speeds up, like usual, and I duck my head before anyone can notice how red my cheeks got. I cuss quietly over and over. I stand up, wiping the grease off of my hands and onto my pants. "What're you doin' here?", I sneer. Pony shrinks, though there is anger in his eyes. 

"I always come here after school, smarty."

I roll my eyes, and scratch the back of my neck. "Whatever."

Pony storms towards me, getting right up in my face. Or tries to. He has to look up to meet my eyes. His point gets across before he even says anything though, and his eyes are blazing. 

"Why're you such a douche, Randle? I've never done anything to you!"

I slink back, as though he slapped me in the face. He's right. I am a douche. I don't know why. It's aggravating though, because every time I see him, my emotions can't seem to control themselves. And that makes me mad. It seems like I am always mad nowadays.

"You don't have to, Curtis! Your existence is enough!"

Ponyboy winces, and tears spring to his eyes. Immediate remorse surges through me, as I remember that today would have been Johnny's birthday. I open my mouth to apologize. Before I get a chance though, Soda comes flying at me. He slaps me in the face. "Don't you talk to my kid brother like that!", he screams, screeching like a banshee. We wrestle each other for a moment, before Pony yells for us to stop. We do. Ever since Johnny died, we've tried to cut Pony some slack, though I always seem to slip up. I scratch the back of my neck, embarrassment creeping through me. "Sorry, Soda...", I mumble, my cheeks red. Soda tries to scowl, but he ends up grinning anyway. 

"Oh, it's alright, Stevey. Besides, you should be apologizing to Pony, not me."

I bite my lip, looking at Pony. He looks back at me, as though he's waiting for an apology. I sigh heavily. "Sorry, Ponyboy.", I say, and leave it at that. Pony rolls his eyes. "Whatever.", he replies. Then, looking at Soda, he says, " I should prolly get goin'. I've got stuff to do.". Soda waves him off, and Pony disappears. Soda looks at me and shrugs, before going back to work the register. Once he's gone, I mentally curse myself over and over. Why am I such an ass?



*ੈ✩‧₊˚



Later that day, after work, Soda and I go back to his house, where the rest of the gang is cooped up. It's been almost 6 months since Dally and Johnny died. Johnny would have been 17 today. Pony is extra sad, because Johnny was his best friend. When we enter the house, Pony is nowhere in sight. I look at Soda, who's already plopped on the couch, shoving a hand full of cake in his mouth. "Do you know where Pony would be?", I ask, knowing already that Pony's not here. When he's around, I feel his presence. Soda furrows his eyebrows. "Prolly the lot.", he says, crumbs spraying out of his mouth. I nod, before leaving the house. I don't know what compels me, but for some reason, I have the urge to apologize properly. I rush to the lot, building up an apology. The second I get to the lot, I begin to speak, stopping abruptly when I see Pony crying. 



𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 ― steveboyWhere stories live. Discover now