The Outsiders: Book Two

Shutyerface

Just to clarify - Ponyboy's POV. Okai? Okai.

The next morning, I woke up, and Soda was gone. He must have gotten up pretty early—the other side of the bed was cold. I rolled out of bed, stretching, and grabbed a towel and some clothes from the dresser. I padded down the hallway to the bathroom, and passed Soda's room.

I wondered how Red was. I poked the door open quietly and peeked in, and then nearly gagged from surprise. I backed out, quickly, and went into the bathroom, slamming the door. I can't believe this. That stupid...stupid ass...of a brother I have! He'll just take any opportunity he has to pounce on her! I fumed there for about ten minutes when there was a quiet knock.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “What?” I asked, a slight bite to my voice.

“Pony? Are you alright?” Red asked softly, her voice crackly and thick with sleep. “I heard the door slam...”

I took exhaled slowly. She didn't need to know I saw them. “I'm fine. Stubbed my toe and was tryin' not to holler. Guess I took it out on the door.” I looked into the mirror, regarding myself like I didn't know me. How did I look to an outsider? Did I look like someone who lied so easily?

No. Seeing myself, I looked like I didn't care. I looked hard and unfeeling. I looked...I looked like Dallas Winston, even though I bore no resemblance to him whatsoever. I looked cold, like I didn't care. But upon closer inspection, I could see the hurt in my eyes. I wasn't like Dallas Winston.

Dallas Winston. Now, when I thought his name, it didn't hurt to think of him. It didn't bring back a rush of memories. Instead, I saw something else. I saw his face, gaunt and clad with cuts and bruises. I saw his form rested limply in an alley, against a dumpster. I saw his eyes looking up to me in recognition and relief. His blazing, icy blue eyes that couldn't focus on my face, but gazed through me.

Red was silent for a minute, as if she were contemplating what I said. “Okay. I'm gonna make breakfast, what do you want?”

“It's okay, I'll get my own.”

“No. Decide or I'll decide for you.”

I sighed. “I'll eat whatever. Thanks, Red.”

“Sure thing, Pony.”

I stepped into the shower, and turned it so hot it nearly scalded me—but I didn't care. It was relaxing my muscles slowly, and I realized how sore I was. Gee, I'm starting to get as tense as Darry. After I was finished, I put on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and went to the kitchen, following the aroma of bacon. When I entered the kitchen, though, Steve and Red were bickering. Red was wielding a spatula, and Steve was pointing at her accusingly.

“What's up?” I asked. “What did Steve do?”

Steve snorted indignantly. “Steve? What did Steve do? Red—”

“Steve hid food and he won't tell me where he put it. And I kinda need to know. Today's Wednesday,” Red said.

“What's special about it being Wednesday?” I asked, tipping some scrambled eggs from the pan onto a plate.

“Because tomorrow is Thursday!”

“I figured. Well, tomorrow is Thursday. So?”

Red rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Thanksgiving, smarty.”

I paused. “We don't celebrate—“

“Steve and Soda have already informed me of your anti-holiday habits. But I need to be useful and entertained for a while anyway, so why not do it through gluttony?” she asked nonchalantly, fishing through the cupboards and retrieving all sorts of pots and pans and bowls. For guys, we sure did have a lot of interesting cookware....