𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 ⌞ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐩 ⌝

xi. liking him

♪ - this is how it feels; d4vd, ft laufey
"so this is how it feels to fall in love with you."

S. CURTIS' POV

—

I now paced around the empty guest room, once he had finished explaining- everything.

"Where's this photograph?" I ask, trying to make sense of the whole situation.

"I don't know man, I just know she's got one, and she's threatening to show more people it." His New York accent poked in and out as he talked, he had grown up there, but the more he lived here, the more his accent went away.

He had explained that Steve and I kissed in Darry's truck last night parked in the front of Buck's, and how Evie must've been waiting for something to happen between the two of us to capture it.

Therefore, that was her chance to.

But why?

I tried wrapping my head around it.

"Does Steve know about it?"

He shook his head, "I haven't seen him since Buck's last night, and apparently, no one else has seen him since this morning."

I cursed under my breath, "I've got to find him Dal. What if somethin' happened?"

"He'll know how to deal with her blackmailing if anything. He's an okay kid, Soda." He said in a reassuring tone, but nothing could've reassured me of the better currently.

If his father were to find out about anything between Steve and I, he would be beaten to a pulp. I could feel my hands tremble at the thought, and another cigarette didn't sound too shabby as I finished up this one.

Yet, I stopped pacing, flicking the burnt out cig outside the window that I had opened, so Darry wouldn't notice the two of us smoking in the house. We both didn't feel like getting scolded, so it wasn't really an optional choice.

"And you found all that out through Sylvia? This morning?" I questioned, patting my hands against my jeans that I had slept in.

"Yep. I'm guessing the girl must've not been able to keep her mouth shut, had the itch to just go and tell someone."

I flopped down onto the now chilly mattress, "he's gotta' be okay."

The door pulled open, and speaking of my nosy brother.

"Hey Sodapop." He popped the 'P' at the end as he sat down beside me. The room soon filled with awkward tension between the three of us, and Dalla's got up.

"I'll let you know if I find out anything." He walks out, and with that, all I can get out is an, "alright."

Once the door shuts behind Dalla's, Pony seems to have already gotten comfortable. He raises his eyebrow at me, and I knew whatever was about to come out of his mouth, it was going to be something.

We all learned and adapted the eyebrow raise from none other than Two-Bit. I'm not sure I'm glad we- or the gang were taught that move.

"So," he dragged out the word, "what's up with you and Steve?" He swung his legs off the beside, looking as if he was waiting for details.

"We're not anything, Pony."

"Right . . ." He gives an unconvincing look.

"Pony. Did you eavesdrop?" He looks at me guiltily, and then bursts.

He giddily begins before being cut off, "You guys were -"

"We were drunk!" I argue back, putting a hand over his loud mouth before Darry could make out anything that was loudly being said.

I remove my hand, unready for another stupid comment.

"Drunk actions are sober thoughts," he smirks.

"Ponyboy!" I playfully yell, having enough of his remarks. I smack his face with a nearby pillow, and he lets out muffled laughs from underneath it.

I got up from the bed, my face flushed with a heated blush, as he was sitting up again, pulling the pillow off of him.

"Soda," his tone sounded more sincere, "if you like him though, you oughta' just tell him.

"If I did, I would've." I sarcastically smiled at him.

We weren't anything.

Me and Steve are childhood best friends.

That was it, that was us.

No photograph would be able to change that.

A singular kiss wouldn't be able to either, I told myself.

I now held the door knob as I was about to exit, but I found myself wanting one more response before I left.

"Pony?" He hummed in response.

"Did he really stay by my bedside?" I spoke softly at the thought.

He nodded, "He did. All night, monitoring you like you were something fragile."

"Ain't a very Steve thing to do is it?" He replies to himself, "Your the only guy whose every seen such a side of him, Sodapop. Can't you see that?"

I swiftly leave the room and shut the door behind me as the last of his sentence left his mouth.

I can't live to be bombarded with more words about him.

I was confused, and afraid.

In reality, I thought, had I truly been in love with him?

Was the frightening thought I had been wondering, true?