The young lovers ( ponyboy fanfic)

3:Getting closer

"Mornin' Kaylee ! Gotta get up!" Soda yells in the doorway.   

"Go away. I don't wanna get up," I mumble. He walks in the room and continually shakes my arm.   

"I know you're tired and all, but you gotta wake up," he says. After non-stop shaking my arm, I playfully hit him and sit up.

"There you go!" he says cheerfully.   

"You're gonna get it," I threaten weakly. He smiles and walks out. I get dressed for the day, still feeling weird about this whole situation. But something inside me is saying that this is right and where I belong. Another something is saying it's all wrong and stupid. I wish I knew what I could believe.   

I sit at the table with them. They begin passing around chocolate cake. It seems weird, but I know. (I read the book!) I allow them to explain though. It's kind of a tradition they developed after their parents had died. I feel bad for them. They don't deserve it. None of the others deserve their circumstances either. But sometimes life isn't fair.   

"Did you get any sleep last night?" Soda asks. I feel as if he's the most talkative. I'm not proven wrong yet.  

"Yeah. Thanks for asking," I answer.   

"I've been trying to think about a way to help you out here, kaylee," Darry speaks up. This is a rare thing for me to feel intimidated. His cold stare makes me wonder what's going on in his mind that causes such a bitter look.   

"What do you mean?" Pony asks.   

"I don't know, but we'll talk about it when we get a chance. Alright?" he says. I nod. What could he mean? He probably wants to get rid of me. I'm an extra mouth to feed, kid to keep up with, and a girl. But I forget about it, not wanting to get my hopes in a bind.   

Soda and Darry yell their goodbyes and leave for work. Pony looks at me and shrugs.   

"It's just me and you again," he says as he picks up the dishes, and we clean them together.   

"It looks like me and you are gonna end up being real close," I tell him.   

"I guess so.""You don't talk much, do you?"  

"I don't guess so. I just ain't got much to say. You dig?" he asks.   

"Yeah. I just don't shut up." He grins a little... for once.   

"I don't know what we're gonna do all day," he says.   

"That's alright." I dry my hands on a towel and then shove them in my pockets. I sit on the couch. He sits in the floor across from me and leans against a chair.  

"What do you like to do?" he asks.   

"I like to read and draw sometimes."  

"Do you paint?"  

"Yeah. When I can find the time and stuff for it," I explain.   

"I read too. I bet I've read all the books I have at least twice."  

"What else do you like, Ponyboy?"  

"I like to watch the sun rise and set. I don't tell very many about it. Maybe just Soda and Johnny. And I guess you too. By what it sounds like, you like 'em too," he says.   

"I do. How did you know?"  

"I guessed," he answers honestly.

"Anyways, I don't know why I like 'em so much. But there's something by Robert Frost..."