Too Immature

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Sodapop Curtis...
Steve pulls me into the men's restroom, shutting the door and my eyes slightly narrow. "Well, what's this about?" I asked him, "what did you wanna tell me?"

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "I don't think I like Ren. Is he even a greaser?" He asks and my eyes slightly widen.

"Um, well he certainly ain't a Soc. He has a similar style, music taste, and rebellious attitude . . . you know, like greasers." I told him, his eyes softened. This feels weird. Steve is never serious, not like this. He's so lighthearted. He likes people, he's extroverted and likes to make new friends. What's with him?

"Steve, are you alright?" I ask him. "This isn't about Dally or Johnny, is it?" Steve's expression drops more pitifully. "I'm just fine, Soda." He says but I can see behind the sheets of white lies. "No," I say.

"No?" He asks, pretending to be confused.

"This isn't you. So what is it? Are you insecure?" My words become more unfiltered. I may have sounded rude, but I didn't mean to. I see Steve's expression darken. "I didn't mean it like that. It was a genuine question." I assure him. He stares at me for a moment, beats passing by before he speaks up.
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Steve Randle...
Soda's question struck me like lightning. Am I insecure? I think about it over and over again in my mind. Why would I be insecure? I don't care about what others think! I simply be myself and people like me that way. So no, I'm not insecure. I think. Maybe.

I'm jealous.

When Soda and I first met and he introduced me to The Gang, he wasn't that nice. Yes, he was smiling and all but his tone was more nonchalant. When he was talking about Ren, his voice got higher.

Maybe my memory is hazy and I'm misreading it. Soda put his arm around Ren, kept grabbing his shoulder and nudging him in an excited manner. It was really Ren's stupid, pretty-blond-boy-look that aggravated me.

I've never been jealous! I don't care about these things. I care all of a sudden. Is this what developing is? I don't like it. I wanna go back in time and remain immature, the way I was and should be forever.

I wanna tell Soda so badly. I wanna tell him everything, every detail of how I truly feel. But I can't. I wanna tell him so badly, I have the opportunity to do so now . . . But I just can't. It's not welcomed. So I shake my head, "never mind. It's all good, we should get back now." I walk out the bathroom without waiting up for Soda, who just stands in place as his eyes trail in my direction.
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Sodapop Curtis...
I run the cold, industrial water through my fingers to bring them up to my face. Closing my eyes and rinsing my face with the water, I hope the impact of the coldness from the water could bring me together. I don't want me and Steve's relationship to fall apart.

A couple hours later, I visit Ren's place and we chill. It's a little awkward now, well, at least for me because I know how Steve feels about him. After I got out of that bathroom and back to the table, I no longer brought the spark to the conversation.

But that was fine, Two-Bit did it for me. He's great in tense situations, he knows how to lighten the mood. I felt a bit better after that. But I forgot how nosey he is, once we got out of there he started whispering a barrage of questions.

"What was that about? Why did Steve want to talk privately? Why does Steve seem mad? Was it something I did or said? Was it someone else? Who!? Whowhowhowhowho was it? Who managed to get on Steve's nerves!?" He asked eagerly. I don't know whether I should tell him or not.

I told him everything.

His expression was unreadable, I couldn't tell what he was thinking. After a moment of him simply staring at me in silence, he speaks up. "Sounds like somebody likes you a bit too much."

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