Shattered

sodaPOP

My whole body is trembling but the funny thing is, I'm not cold. Two-Bit and Darry fell asleep about two hours ago, after Soda was taken into surgery. I can't sit still any longer so I wander down to the cafeteria and grab two coffees, one for me and one for Darry. Two-Bit isn't a coffee person. He says it makes him too sober. By the time I get upstairs, the doctor is there and I pick up my pace. I slip inside silently and put the coffees on the table just in time to catch the tail end of their conversation. "...was very successful but the hardest part will be recovery. I'll have the nurse talk to you about some options for physical therapy and prosthetics." the doctor says before shaking Darry's hand and walking out the door. Darry sits back in his chair, looking very relieved. I hand him his coffee and he absentmindedly takes a sip. Two-Bit takes a flask out of his jacket and takes a few big swings. Darry looks at him with a raised eyebrow. "For the nerves." Two-Bit explains and Darry nods in understanding. "How are you holding up, Superman?" Two-Bit asks. Darry smiles slightly at the use of his nickname but it's a sad smile. "I really don't know yet," Darry says, "I'll feel better when Soda is awake and when we get him home. I hate hospitals."
"Me too." I say at the exact same time Two-Bit does. After that, we sit in complete silence, lost in our thoughts. We get up and go to see Soda in the recovery wing a few minutes later, walking in shoulder to shoulder, using each other for support. When we finally enter the room, the first thing I notice is that, although Soda is awake, tears are streaming down his face. Even though he's crying, his eyes are constantly scanning the room, almost like he is on the lookout. He jumps when the nurse slams a folder down on the nurses' station desk before hurrying off. Before I can blink, Darry has his arms wrapped around Soda but still, Soda seems uncomfortable and on edge. "Hey, Soda, how are you feeling? I've missed you so much, I'm so happy you're home! I can't believe you let them cut your hair!" Darry says in one breath, taking in Soda's new apperance. Soda ignores him and locks eyes with me. "Soda, I'm so sorry that I-" I start but he cuts me off.
"Get out." Soda says simply, staring me down. "What?" I ask, not sure I heard him right. "Get. Out." He growls, his face contorting with anger. Then he starts screaming, "GET OUT, PONYBOY! GET OUT, GET OUT, GO AWAY!" The nurses start to swarm over and are about to inject something into Soda's I.V but I don't stay and watch. I turn on my heel and run out of the room, Darry yelling for me to come back. I don't listen and I sprint down the hallway and out the automatic double doors. I run outside, right into the cool fall air that burns in my chest. I run five miles with tears pouring down my cold, wind burned cheeks. I stop only when I reach Curly's house. Curly is the closest thing I have to a best friend since Johnny died. I burst through the door and stride into the kitchen. I hear several objects clash agaisnt the wall, I hear Tim scream at Curly n Angela screaming shut up. Curly comes racing out of his room, wearing nothing but his boxers. "Jesus, you scared the shit out of me and the others! What's the matter?" he asks, watching me rummage through his kitchen cabinets. "I need a drink." I say. Curly nods and leaves the room. I'm surprised his sister Angela isn't attacking me yet. She's got the hots for me bad, but I have the brains to stay away. Curly came back a minute later with two bottles of whiskey and puts them on the table. "Thanks." I say before grabbing a bottle and ripping the top off. I take a few swigs and savor the burn it leaves in my throat and in my chest, all the way down to my stomach. "Do you wanna talk about it?" Curly asks awkwardly. "There's nothing to tell really. Soda's leg got blown off and he hates me because I never wrote or said goodbye when he left and stuff and he screamed at me to get out once he got out of surgery." I say, chuckling a bit. The whole situation almost doesn't seem real. "I might need a drink too." Curly says after a few moments of silence before grabbing the second bottle off the table. "Poor Soda. He's been through so much. Man, that's crazy. I grew up with you guys! It doesn't seem possible that something so bad can happen to someone you know so well." Curly sits in a chair by the kitchen table. I lean against the wall and let myself sink down to the floor. "You got that right." I whisper, before chugging a fourth of the whiskey. Curly and I drink in silence together and I don't know what I would do without him. He knows when to ask what's wrong and he knows when you just need someone to drink and be sad with. He knows just what to say when you need it most. Curly doesn't think he's a good person but I know better. Yes, he has his flaws but so do I. A little while later, there is a polite knock on the door. "I'll get it." he says, standing up and taking the whiskey with him. He bumps into the wall and to the couch but then eventually completes his messy, drunken journey to the door. He opens it excitedly, "Hey, Cherry!" he says. "Hey, Curly." she says. They met each other the day of the trial. "I need to talk to Ponyboy." "Well, come in!" he says, swaying slightly. I can't see Cherry or Curly but I hear footsteps coming in this direction. I continue to stare blankly at the wall. Cherry comes into view a few seconds later when she crouches down next to me. "Hey, Darry called and explained everything. I'm supposed to drive you back to the hospital." she says gently.
"Nope." I tell her before I take another sip out of the bottle. "I'm not ready to go back. Did I ever tell you that I hate hospitals?" Cherry looks at me with a sad expression on her face before standing up. "Then we won't go. I just need you to come with me." she says and I agree reluctantly. Cherry says something to Curly and they both grab me by an arm and pull me upwards. The world goes in and put of focus and I suddenly get very dizzy.
Cherry puts her arm around my waist to steady me before she rips the whiskey out of my grasp and hands it to Curly. "Ponyboy Curtis, you are sixteen years old. You shouldn't be drinking." she scolds. She guides me out of the kitchen, through the living room, and out the front door to her tuff car. By the time we get to her Sting Ray, Cherry is out of breath and throws me into the passenger seat. "You know I hate drunks." she says, slamming the car door shut before getting in the driver's seat. She tears off down the road and seven minutes later, we arrive at her house. "My parents aren't home but if you throw up on the rug, I will kill you." She says seriously before helping me out of the car and dragging me inside. We walk into her room and everything is neat and put away, just like i remember. I sit on the bed and let myself fall back against the collection of pillows, making myself right at home. Cherry pulls off her shoes before taking off mine and then climbs into the bed next to me. She smells like flowers. I put an arm around her and immediately relax. This is what we used to do all those years ago after Johnny and Bob died. I would sneak into her room whenever I couldn't sleep and we would talk and talk all night. She rolls onto her side so now her face is level with mine before reaching up and wiping away the tears on my face I didn't know were there. Finally, I let loose and let it all out. "I messed up so badly. The man who woke up today is not my brother." I say, sobs racking my body. I gasp for air and cry some more and she just lays next to me, holding me as I let go. When I calm down she takes my hand and intertwines our fingers.
"I can't say I understand what you're going through but you have to understand I'm not letting you go through this alone." Cherry says, snuggling closer to me.