♡ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜱᴀʏ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ♡

1 1

I left work that night exhausted.

I had to work double the amount of tables during the rush as a result of short staff—it felt like ten o'clock by the time I left at seven. I almost forgot my purse until Linda ran after me holding it. The regular two-mile walk home felt like five.

When I finally stumbled through the door, I instantly collapsed on the couch.

"Bad day?" Sodapop asked as he sat by me.

I just nodded my head tiredly and closed my eyes.

"What happened?"

I sighed. "Half of our staff quit today with no explanation. I had to work double the tables." I rolled over to face Soda. "So, until Linda hires some more people, I'm gonna be working double shifts. Maybe even triple."

"How late are you gonna be getting home?" Darry asked as he put a plate on the table.

I shrugged. "Probably nine or ten on weekdays. On weekends..." I trailed off, thinking, "midnight. Or later. Depends on how busy we are." I laid my head back on the couch.

"Maybe you could get Two-Bit to come work with you," Pony joked.

Soda laughed. "As if."

"Alright, you three. Dinner's ready," Darry said. I groggily stood up and went to the table.

"Where's Johnny?" I asked, suddenly aware of his absence.

Pony shrugged.

"You were with him last, you should know," I said, somewhat annoyed.

"Well, I mean, he went to the DX with me, but when Soda and I left to go home, he said he was gonna hang around for a bit."

"Where?"

He shrugged.

I groaned. "Ponyboy, don't tell me he's alone."

He stayed silent.

I put my head in my hands. I was too tired to deal with this.

"You worry about him too much," Soda said, playfully pushing my shoulder.

"If it was anyone else, I wouldn't. It's just that it's Johnny," I said, "it's not good for him to be alone. You know that."

Johnny got beat up pretty bad a few months ago, and ever since then we've all been worried about him when he was alone.

But there was a different kind of worry that pained my heart, not just a worry of him getting hurt or sleeping in the cold. It was a deeper sort of worry, one that made me sick to my stomach. I didn't know what it was or why it was there and it was frustrating me.

"Do you have any idea where he is?" Darry asked Pony.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he said, "the lot, at his house, or with Dally."

I looked up from my hands and shook my head. Soda put his hand on my shoulder. "If he's in trouble, he'll come back," he smiled at me, "he'll be fine."

I just sighed and nodded. Suddenly, I was reminded of Johnny's gentle, reassuring voice from last night. He comforted me of my fears, shut them up in a lockbox and threw away the key. I remember how good I felt last night, a feeling I hadn't felt since before Mom and Dad died.

Fear. Fear was what I felt last night and it was, I realized, that unknown worry I was feeling now. I was scared again, but instead of being scared for me and my brothers, I was scared for Johnny.

I ate dinner without saying a word, my brothers carrying on a conversation I wasn't listening to. My energy was drained, both from work and this constant burden of fear on my mind, like an anchor strapped to my conscience and slowly sinking me in the ocean of my thoughts.