♡ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ ɪꜱɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ ♡

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SODA TOOK ME HOME that night just as he had promised. He talked like nothing was wrong, probably trying not to scare me, but I noticed he was walking a bit closer to me than usual, so much so that the cuff of his shirt would brush across my shoulder as we walked.

I mostly let him do the talking. I couldn't decide whether his random chattiness was because we hadn't talked in a while or that he was trying to cover the unsettling reason he was walking with me in the first place. It didn't matter to me, though. I was too sick to my stomach to talk much anyway. I hated missing work.

Walking into the house, Soda and I were met by puzzled looks from both Darry and Ponyboy, both of them sitting at the table as Pony did his homework and Darry read the paper.

Soda answered their question before they said anything. "She came to visit me today, so I said I'd walk her home."

Darry looked from Soda to me, his expression turning from puzzlement to confused anger. "You skipped work, Cary?"

The pit in my stomach grew larger as I sighed. "Oh, come on, you know I wouldn't miss for a stupid reason. And I wasn't 'skipping,' I called Linda and told her. Everything's cool." I said, ignoring the very obvious knot in my gut that couldn't seem to leave.

"Well what happened, then?" Darry peered over the top of his newspaper.

"I was being followed, Darry. The whole way home — they wouldn't let up."

"So, she came to the DX. Thought she'd let her big brother protect her," Soda interjected with a grin and a wink, very obviously trying to lighten the tense air in the room.

I rolled my eyes and retreated to my bedroom, even though what he said was true. The only reason I went to the DX — other than not letting the guys see where I lived — was for protection. As I placed my books on my desk and took off my cardigan, I began to wonder if Darry's idea of carrying a blade was so bad after all.

Although I could tell the boys were worried — Ponyboy wouldn't stop shooting me concerned glances from across the table as we ate — they never said anything. They didn't want to bring it up, to open old wounds, so to speak. It was something they had silently learned over the course of the past couple of months.

The rest of the night carried on as usual, and I woke up the next day to do it all over again.

After hearing about what happened, Johnny swore to me he'd never miss another day of school again, just so that he'd be there to walk me home. And he did just that — even though Ponyboy never had to stay late after school again, Johnny was always right there beside us.

As the weeks went on, I forgot about the incident almost entirely, finally able to live my life — for what felt like the first time in forever — without nearly any fear. I would go to school, go to work, hang out with Johnny and Cassie, and go to sleep wearing my winter pajamas as the nights got colder.

The only time I would remember Jonathan was in my dreams. They were brief, though, nothing like the night terrors I'd had months ago. They scared me at first, to the point that I hated going to sleep, but I eventually got so used to them that I wouldn't remember anything but Jonathan's eyes sharp like the dagger he stabbed into my hand. Still, it was enough for me to wake up shaky.

Still, after only a few minutes of reality, I was happy again, smiling while eating breakfast with my brothers, strolling down the brisk sidewalks with Johnny, and laughing through the school hallways with Cassie. It was wonderful. I felt amazing. I felt — for the first time in what seemed like forever — like myself again.

I was stupid to think it would last.

When the week of Christmas finally came along, I opened the small drawer in my vanity I used to store extra cash. I had been saving up for a while, eager to buy gifts for everyone. Everyone that I could, anyways.

After counting the 1's and 5's, I had come up with a little less than twenty bucks. I cringed. It wasn't nearly enough to buy everything I wanted. I scrounged for a few nickels and dimes, but it only brought me up a dollar.

I sighed. This is what I get for not going to work.

I looked at the pile of money in my hand disappointedly for a few seconds before shoving it in my purse. It would have to do, there was no point in crying over it now. Stores always have Christmas sales this time of year anyways.

I went after work almost every day to nearly every shop I could find, searching for the best deals and just the right gifts for hours, sometimes not getting home until after nine. By the time Christmas rolled around, I had bought something — even if it was small — for everyone.

I had been wanting to buy Ponyboy some new shoes for months: his old ones had holes on the sides to where I could see his black socks every day. I decided that just wouldn't do, especially since it was getting colder. I finally got Johnny a nicer hair comb so that he could stop using the cheap plastic ones that always seemed to break. For the rest of the guys, I only got small but meaningful things. Cassie got glittery hair barrettes.

I was disappointed by my small haul as I piled them up on my bed to wrap, but pushed the thought away. There was no point in feeling sorry, nearly everyone got something small this time of year. Nobody could afford anything more.

It was all worth it, I thought, to see everyone's faces light up as I handed them their gifts — even Dally seemed pleased, despite the claim his head was pounding from a hangover. It made me happy knowing they didn't care if their gifts weren't extraordinary. The only thing that mattered to them — to any of us — was simply the idea of being thought of, being valued. That's the whole point of Christmas in the first place, isn't it?

Ponyboy and Johnny seemed the most thankful, though, especially Ponyboy. If it weren't for the other guys in the room, I swear he could've wept tears. After all was said and done and we had cleaned up, he came up to me, his eyes wet.

"Thank you, Cary. Really, I—" he stopped, as if choked up.

I pulled him in for a hug. "Don't mention it. You've been working hard enough, I figured you deserve it." I paused.

He wore them the next day, and they fit him like a glove. I bought a size bigger than what he had, and he remarked that they were much more comfortable. I smiled. This is why I love Christmas so much.

I didn't get much, but neither did anybody else. I didn't mind it though, as I knew that everyone gave all that they could: a small angel collectible from Two-Bit, $5 from Dally (he swore he didn't steal it from anywhere), a Coke from Steve, a book from Johnny. The final present was addressed from all three of my brothers, contained in a small, red box. A necklace? I thought, judging by the elongated shape.

I was shocked to find a pocket knife: about 3 inches long with a wooden handle. It was blue.

"They didn't have pink," Soda said, to which I punched him in the shoulder and we all laughed.

I thanked them for it, but as I went back to my room at the end of the night, I couldn't help but wonder if I really was.

My dreams got worse that night, more vivid. Jonathan's knife made a return, reliving the memory of my hand being sliced. Over and over, screaming and pain. I woke up sweating.

I knew my peace wouldn't last. It never does.

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*note* $10 for shoes sounds really cheap, but I was accounting for inflation 😂 sorry for any confusion.

I'm going to try to post at least every month, but life is insane lately. So sorry everyone! Thank you sooooooo much for your patience!!! <3 <3

Love y'all. Stay gold.