That's Life for You

Chapter 7

I can't sleep. I lay awake hoping that every car I hear on the street is Darry. It's almost two in the morning and he still hasn't come back yet. It scares me a little bit. Suppose he got in his truck and just kept on driving until he hit Texas? Decided he didn't want to raise a couple of smart mouth kids and starts a new life somewhere else?

Sodapop and Ponyboy are sound asleep in their room. I guess the fear of being abandoned didn't weigh heavy on their minds. Feeling restless I get out of bed and pad down to Darry's room, which was formally Mom and Dad's.

Even though the room didn't change that much, it still looked different with Mom and Dad's stuff out of it. You used to be able to smell Mom's perfume as soon as you walked through the door, but it's been replaced with Old Spice.

I curl up on the still neatly made bed and hug my knees to my chest, feeling the familiar ache in my heart. Their deaths have changed everything and a small part of me, a part I always keep locked away hate them for dying. Hate them for leaving us.

The house is quiet with Darry gone and no one being awake but me- which makes me feel lonely. A part of me was tempted to wake up Ponyboy and we could take turns reading from Edgar Allen Poe books like we used to do when we were kids but we're not kids anymore.

I must have fallen asleep eventually because the harshness of the light wakes me up. I sit up slowly and stare though bleary eyes at the figure that came into the room. I feel like my heart is about to pound right through my chest because I'm staring at a ghost. I'm staring at my father's ghost.

I want to call out to him. Tell him how much I love him, miss him, need him. The words won't come out. My voice box is broken.

I blink and realize it's not Dad I'm staring at after all. It's Darry. I feel a sense of relief mixed with disappoint. Relief that Darry is home safe and disappointment that it's not Dad.

I can smell the cheap liquor coming off Darry as he stumbles over to the bed. He drops down on the corner and the mattress sags under his weight.

"Forget where your bed is?" He asks, dropping his head in his hands.

I wrap my arms around my arms around my middle, not sure how to respond. Darry wasn't much of a drinker and if he was, he sure hid it well.

"I was waiting up for you and I fell asleep." I tell him honestly.

He lifts his head and looks at me. His eyes glassy and unfocused. "Waiting up to yell at me for how I handled tonight? Tell me that Dad would have never reacted that way? Remind me what a fuck up I am?"

"No." I shake my head quickly. "I was worried about you is all..."

He laughs. "You think I need some little girl worrying about me?"

I flinch at the harshness of his words. "Sorry for caring," I mumble, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice.

"Shit, Cassie," He sighs and roughly scrubs his hands over his face. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, okay?"

I nod and pull at a loose thread on the quilt, keeping my head down, knowing that is the closest I'd get to an apology. "I thought maybe you weren't coming back," I say, my words coming out wobbly.

He looks at me startled. "Shoot kid, you thought I went to my place on fifth avenue?"

I frown at him, a little irritated that he was making fun of me. "Maybe you skipped town or..." I trail off, not being able to finish the sentence.

"Hey," he gently grasps my chin forcing me to look at him. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? Quit worrying."

I blink and a tear runs down my cheek. I hurriedly wipe it away, not wanting Darry to think I'm a big baby.