Hello, My Name is Crazy.

Saying No.

-Photo credits to myself. Hope you guys are enjoying this fanfic so far!-

Ponyboy's POV

We sit quietly and he smokes like a champ, cigarette after cigarette. He finishes a pack and opens a new one. I think he knows he freaked me out because he isn't talking anymore. I'm petting Darling and he's just watching, not showing any kind of emotion. Eventually I get tired of the quiet for once and I decide to try and get to know him better.

"So, where are your friends?" 

"I got shot last night. Do you really think I'm the friendly type?"

"You've been fine to me."

"Because you're a kid and you aren't from around here. You ain't fucked up, in a gang, or on drugs. You have nothing that could backfire on me."

"Aren't you just the most comforting man alive?"

I shake my head and pick the puppy up and rock her like a baby. It feels so nice to play with her. Like I mentioned, I've always wanted a puppy. He seems more and more amused, the more I pay attention to her. And the more she kisses me and comes running to me. He seems almost amazed by her reaction every time I look at her and she wags her tail. He actually smiles a few times.

"Are your brothers weird like you? Or do they actually talk to people?"

"Well, Soda talks to everyone and anyone. And Darry used to be the quarterback at our school before mom and dad passed away, so he knew lots of people. But he couldn't take the scholarship he was offered because he had to work to pay our bills and buy groceries and stuff."

"How'd you end up here, in New York, if you lived all the way in Toronto?"

"Our house was big and expensive and in a really pricey neighbourhood. My dad was a really successful business man and my mom owned a private salon. But they weren't stuck up people, don't get the wrong picture. We had what we needed and most of what we wanted. But when they died, Darry sold the salon to help with bills and everything, and it was getting us by. But he decided living there was too expensive and he wanted to come somewhere cheaper so we'd never have to worry. So he sold our house and bought this place. He has enough money from the salon and the house being sold to pay the bills for at least the next two years. Sodapop's a drop out, but he's working at a café gas station place in town and Darry just got a job as a lawyers assistant. So aside from the shitty neighbourhood and shitty house, we're financially stable for the next few years. We're comfortable. I think it was a stupid idea. But it is what it is. There wasn't really a reason we ended up here either than Darry. It was what he thought was best for us."

"Wow."

"Wow what?"

"You can really talk when you wanna talk. Jeez, and here I was thinking you were a mute or something. And hey, you can't hate it here too much, you've become a dog mom."

I look at Darling and she's wagging her tail and hes giving me a smug grin and I can only shake my head. I guess I started to ramble. Sometimes I talk too much when I overthink. When I talk about my parents I either can't find any words or I can't shut up. It sucks. Soda says it's from the stress and trauma because I'm young. I just think I'm stupid.

"Why'd your brother drop out?"

"He says it's because he wasn't passing anything but auto and chemistry class. I think he was just too stressed out after the accident to focus on school, honestly. When Soda's sad he doesn't show it. He smiles and hides it pretty well. And after they died he started faking a lot of smiles."

"What's your brother Darry like?"

"He hates me."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he does. We got along just fine until mom and dad died. Then he just...changed. I know he's got a lot more to worry about now than he used to, but he's different. He gets mad at me about every little thing. Hes always talking down to me and screaming. I hate when he yells at me. Nothing I ever do is good enough for him. If it weren't for Soda, he'd have thrown me out long ago."

"That's harsh. Hes probably just mourning the best he knows how. I never had any parents or anything, but I can imagine it must be really messed up to lose them. Devastating. How are you dealing with it?"

"Me? I uh... That's a tough question. I vary depending on the day. The night the cops came and told us, I locked myself in my room and didn't come out for three days. I didn't eat, I didn’t shower, I didn’t talk to anyone. I cried and I smoked more than I should have and I cut myself. After I came around, I just went through the days slowly. I failed every class this semester. Got diagnosed with chronic depression. And now I'm just living. I don't really deal with any of it. There's nothing I can do."

"You cut yourself?"

I look up at him and he's been listening to me ramble again tentatively. He looks focused and he looks interested and curious. He smokes and stares at me and I tug the sleeves of my sweater up to show him my arms. The cuts are all healed and have become scars.

"Not anymore."

"It's not a good thing to do to yourself." 

"It wasn't really helping and I kept staining my shirts so I stopped a few months ago. Well...and it really scared Soda. I hate making him sad. Hes the world's best guilt tripper."

"I don't know much about this stuff. I know it's supposedly good to talk about it though. And I know it's good to accept that it happened. So you're doing okay, I'd say."

"I guess."

"If you're not you can talk to me."

"I don't know you well enough to talk to you."

"Get to know me."

"Why don't you have parents?"

"Ask me something else."

"Why?"

"Just change the question. I don't want to answer that."

"I'm confused."

"Please..."

He looks at me with a pain in his eyes and I can tell this isn't a conversation we need to have right now. I hand him the puppy and nod at his request.

"How'd you get the scar on your stomach then?"