Quandary ~Johnnyboy, Stevepop, Dal-Bit

Sometimes when I feel lost

Two-Bit's POV: April 6th, Saturday
Dally asked if everyone could meet at Curtis house at eleven this morning.

Once everyone was here he began, "can we go into the kitchen. This not a couch talk at all." He looked like he had been crying all night. Definitely not sleeping, I know that. His voice was half gone. His words choked in the air.

He had bruises on his face and his wrist. And his left arm bled. It always was. Even when he said he wasn't cutting.

We all settled into our chairs but he stayed standing.

Steve wasn't joking for once.
"What happened to you? We just went home yesterday."

"What happened to me? I'm glad you asked Steve." Dal's one of those people that can cry calmly before he falls to pieces. The pieces are still together for the time being.

"He probably wonders what happened to me to." He took out a pregnancy test and slid it to the middle of the table. "He was drunk when it happened."

"Who's he?" Mr. Curtis squinted.

"My dad."

"Did you take another?" Mrs. Curtis suggested.

He looked crazy, "Did I take another?" Then he smiled widely, "did I take another? Yeah, I took another-" two, "and another-" three, "and another-" four, "and another-", five.

He threw the last two at the table and he was screaming through his tears.

"I'm pregnant and it's my dad's fucking baby! So what?! It's not like he told my mom to go with her friends first, dammit! So what?! There's nothing I could do about it, he raped me in my bed and there was nothing I could do! So what, it really doesn't matter?!" He was in an outrage. Good, he shouldn't be acting happy right now.

Darry stood up and gave him a hug. Dal shook in his arms, like a tired child. Somewhere in him, was a little kid who just wanted someone to give a shit.
He's not getting that till now.

We all sat in silence.

"It's not your fault he didn't give you a choice." Darry whispered.

They pulled away. Dal breathed in, then out. And then walked to the refrigerator got out pickles. Like the little ones. Sat them on the table and then got peanut butter and a spoon.

"You're allergic to peanuts, Dal." I reminded him.

"I know. I was hoping someone had forgot." He looked at me sadly.

I put the peanut butter back and got him a fork.

"You don't like pickles." I tilted my head.

He stuck the fork into one and put it in his mouth, "apparently I do." He shrugged.

He laid his head on my shoulder.

"What do pregnant people do besides eat weird stuff?" He asked. No one in particular even though there's only one person here who's been pregnant before.

"Sleep and hurt and glow. Your skins gonna look like a Ken doll in a few weeks." Mrs. Curtis tells him.

"Fun." He smiles sarcastically.

Then his phone rings. It's his mom, "should I answer?"

"Sure." Johnny shrugs.

He put her on speaker.
"Dally come home, baby."

"Dally, come home my ass. Do you know what your husband did when you were gone?"

"No..."

He told her.