THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOU // JOHNNYBOY

EIGHT | Eye Language

PONYBOY CURTIS
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As I turn the page to chapter 10 of Gone With The Wind, I hear a knockin' at my door. I panic and shove the paperback under my bed. The room is filled with noises of shuffling paper, and I hear Darry speak from the other side of the door. "Ponyboy?" He asks. "Come do the dishes!" He squaks with a brief suspicion in his voice. I groan. "Okay, Darry." I say, because I know there is no 'no' in this situation.
I fill the sink to about half way with hot water, the warmth of the liquid scorching my skin. I hiss at the pain and shut my eyes, hearing a chuckle from the doorway. There, Soda stands, a glass of water in his hand. "You sounded like a cat." Soda chuckled, I furrowed my brows at him. "And you look like a donkey." I responded. He grasps his heart, fake wincing. "You've got me, Ponyboy, you've gotten me good." Soda says, approaching me. "But not as good as I'm gonna get you!" He adds, now running as he grabs me and tickles all over my body. I let out raspy giggles as I try to kick and punch my way out of Soda's grasp, when we hear a ringing at the door.
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JOHNNY CADE

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If I don't see Ponyboy right now, I might just scourge my eyes out with a fork. I try not to be clingy, but I just can't seem to help it. So, lifelessly I walk to the Curtis house, and I don't really think it through. By the time I'm at the Curtis House and ringing the door bell, I start to realize what I'm doing, but it is too late because next thing I know Soda stands at the door. "Oh, hey Johnny!" Sodapop smiles. "What'cha doin' here?" I panic more at this, because, truthfully, I have no clue why I am here. "Is Ponyboy here? I was hoping he could give me some extra tutoring." Soda smiles. "Sure, hes just doing the dishes, I'll go get him. Come inside, would you?" Soda says, moving out of the way so I can come through. Soda walks off into the kitchen and I can hear him muttering about me to Ponyboy. A minute later, Ponyboy and Soda walk out together. I'm sitting on the couch waiting, and when I make eye contact with Ponyboy, I smile and stand. "Where's your stuff?" He asks, he's talking about my homework and school supplies. "I was in a rush, so I just ran here. Can we go to my house?" I ask. Ponyboy furrows his brows, seeing through my lies. But Soda can't, so I don't care. I give Ponyboy a certain look, and Ponyboy's expression changes. I'm guessing he get what I said. 'I'm lying.'
I think the eyes are it's own seperate thing from languages. You can say so many things with just your eyes, and when you learn the eye language, you get better at reading peoples minds, too. I think this makes you smarter.
"Do you mind, Soda?" Ponyboy asks his big brother, waiting for approval. Soda nods. "I don't mind." He says. We start to leave but as we walk towards the door, Soda says something. "Hey, no dinking around. And I mean it." He says. Ponyboy rolls his eyes. "Yes dad" he mocks.

We walk in silence for a long while, and I can't help but feel my face heating up. I hear the flick of a lighter and a crackle as Ponyboy inhales a drag on his cigarette. "So, where are we actually going?" He asks, a grin on the edge of his lips. "The bridge." I respond, looking ahead. I'm scared if I look at him, he'll read into my eyes too much. My eyes are filled with love when I'm around him, but I think he knows.
I feel a hand grasp onto my fingers, and I kind of jolt. "Sorry . . ." Ponyboy says, I can't help but look at him. "It's okay." I reassure, "Just scared me." I added, grabing onto his hand and not letting go. Ponyboy kind of frowns. "Are you okay, Pony?" "Perfect." He responds, smiling. He had this look in his eyes that spoke to me as: 'I know something.' What is it that he knows that I don't? Or do I already know? I am unsure. I give him an awkard smile, we keep walking hand in hand.
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PONYBOY CURTIS

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Johnny goes silent, and has this certain edge to him that puts me in a state of panic. "Are you okay, Johnny?" I ask. "Perfect." He responds with a smug smile. "Copycat," I huff. But behind those eyes I can see an undying pain. I frown, wondering: Is he really okay?

I begin thinking through out this silence, about the reaction he had towards my hand grazing his. Why did he seem so startled. I look up at him again, nothing more than pain. He smiles a weak smile, still the same. I begin thinking back to the night I found him all beaten on the porch. The things he told me. The scent of warm beer. The smoke in the air. The words: "My Mom hits me." Floats all over my head, tightening a grasp on my brain. I start to feel nauseous. Four words. Put together, made into four days, weeks, months, years, four eternity he will have to live with that knowing that his mom never loved him the way he did. Or that I did. I feel the nausea get worse and I try to make sense of it all.
"I would never hurt you, you know." I say, more so blurt. I'm not thinking completely straight, but I sure as hell mean what I said. Johnny gulps, he seems uncomfortable. "I'm sorry — I didn't — I just wanted you to know." I manage out, choking on my words. I feel like I'm drowning. But I keep my composure. "I get what you mean." He smiles.
Why is it only hitting me now that Johnny is a broken boy. A boy shattered one by one, all his life being crushed again and again. To the world he is the puppet and we are the puppeteer. The bruises on his skin only a reminder to him that "I am simply not good enough." But he is. I don't think he realizes it. My brain vomit fogs over my eyes and I retch out actual vomit. I hear a gasp to my side but my brain drowns it out with it's ongoing thoughts. I feel a hand on my back. "Golly, Ponyboy! Are you alright?" I cough and gag, tears falling down my eyes. "Perfectly fine." I croak through my gasping as I stay bent over, my hands grasping on my knees for stability that I'm not gaining. I feel my legs wobble.
"Oh, shoot!" Johnny gasps as a car slowly pulls up, people practically dripping from the sides and hollering profanities. The whole thing smells awfully of alcohol.
Soc's.

Words: 1249
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A/N) I need me a cigarette. Badly.
Anyways, I kinda used alot of symbolism in this chapter. Wanted to change things up with using different writing tools. So, let me know. Did you like it? Was it too much? I tried a very new approach of representing panic through Ponyboy's thoughts and I quite liked it I just hope it wasn't too much for all y'all.