Author's Note: Here's another one-shot, a bit humorous. Has nothing to do with The Chaperone, it happens about four-and-a-half years earlier; Ponyboy is ten, Soda is almost-thirteen, and Darry is sixteen. Let's say it's late-August, 1962. This is a "spin-off" of something that Pony momentarily thinks back to in my Ten Years Later story, chapter 7. Keep an open mind, and try to remember back to when you did something like this!

Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns The Outsiders.

Before the story, I'll put in my review thanks for The Chaperone:

Tsuppi: Glad you enjoyed, and thanks for the compliments! Hope you like this one!

Marsiska: Thanks so much for the review! Sorry you didn't go for the beginning – I was hoping to point out from Pony's perspective that Darry wasn't acting his usual self; my image for this was a twenty-one year old young man who works hard and doesn't get a chance to meet many women in his line of work, so on impulse he grabs a chance to "bump into" someone who caught his interest. Sorry it didn't work for you, but I'm glad you liked the rest of the story. Hope you enjoy this one!

CorneredInATub: Glad you liked the story and its premise! Wow, that's a good perspective; it wasn't intentional, but I think I've heard that there are something like eleven plots that exist, total. That might be off a little, but it isn't too many. Those must have been the ones I was leaning toward! Hope you like this little story.

Rock: I'm so glad you liked it! Thanks for the specifics, it's good to see which parts touched someone the most. I like Darry, and I think it's sometimes hard to pull him a bit away from the view that Ponyboy had of him for the one week of the book's timeframe, and give more of a young man quality to him. He must have had his moments! Take as long as you need to read/review, I'm not going anywhere. Except maybe to get some more food!

windyday6: Thanks, glad you liked it. Hope you enjoy this next story!

Keira: Glad you enjoyed! Yeah, I pictured Pony thinking that Darry was only going to the dance to keep and eye on him, and he's getting tired of being looked out for at every turn. The competition part was fun to write, it came so easily, and then at the end putting in another aspect of Darry that Ponyboy never noticed. I think the people who we think we know best are the ones who can surprise us the most.

Oblivious Misconception: Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed! Yeah, I liked writing all the parts at the dance, and keeping it light and funny. Thanks again, and hope you enjoy this next one!

merry: Thanks, glad you enjoyed!

kaz456: Thanks, that's a great compliment! Hope you enjoy this one!

Tehsylvania: Thank you, glad you enjoyed!

Tensleep: Glad you liked it! Those were some really nice compliments, thanks. Yeah, I think Darry is young enough to slip back to his non-guardian self every so often.

Chronic Sarcasm: Thanks, Darry isn't always so easy to write, especially when you're doing something slightly out-of-character with him. Glad you liked it, and hope you enjoy this next one!

BSBnACcHiCk: Thanks so much for reviewing! Glad you enjoyed, and thanks for the compliment. Hope you like this one!

virgil-t-stone: Glad you enjoyed. He's got heart in this one too, hope you like it!

myhubbyisob: Thanks, glad you enjoyed! Wasn't sure where to go with that one next, but I hope you enjoy this one!

korinstuff: Glad you enjoyed! I think it would have fizzled if I'd tried to take it any farther, but here's another one-shot – hope you enjoy!

On with the story:

Ponyboy's POV

I heard the door slam one last time before Mom poked her head in the bedroom doorway, where I was laying on the bare mattress. "Are you feeling any better, honey?"

I looked up from the book I was pretending to read. "I'll be okay, Mom. I just feel like staying in here and reading. Is…is everybody gone?" I asked, trying not to look like I really cared one way or the other.

"Dad and Soda left for the rodeo, and Darry is off to football practice." She gave me a sort of sad look. "I'm sorry you couldn't go with your dad, I know you were looking forward to today."

I tried to look sad, too. "Maybe next time," I said glumly, hoping Mom would go ahead and get out to the garden soon.

"Do you need anything? I could make you some soup…" She looked worried, and I felt a little bad since I didn't really have a stomach ache like I had said.

"I'm okay. You can go ahead and do the gardening. I'll probably go to sleep," I lied.

Mom finally gave in. "Alright, I'll be right out back if you need anything. And let me know if you notice that the dryer stopped, so I can bring the sheets and blankets back to make your bed. Okay?" She kissed my forehead and a couple minutes later I heard the back door open, then close.

I got up out of bed quietly and snuck down the hallway. I wanted to make sure the house was really empty. I knew Mom would be out back for a while – once she starts with gardening, it's like me with a book. She forgets everything else going on around her and gets lost in it. Dad and Soda wouldn't be back until tonight, and Darry's practice would be at least a few hours.

I crept back into the bedroom, feeling a little guilty. I hate lying, but it's really hard to get any private time around my house. Me and Soda share a room, and somebody's usually knocking on the bathroom door if you're in there for more than two minutes, so I had been waiting for today since three days ago.

Last Wednesday morning I had been lying on the bed, and I guess Soda thought I was still asleep, but anyway, he forgot to take his clothes with him to the bathroom when he took a shower. So he came into our room and took his towel off to get dressed. I just laid there real still and quiet, because I didn't want him to know that I was watching him, even though he probably wouldn't have cared. I don't know how he can be that way, not care if someone sees him with no clothes on. We used to take baths together when we were little kids, but that was a long time ago, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him like that. Maybe that's strange, since we share a room, but he usually gets dressed in the bathroom after his shower. Besides, most days I'm up and dressed by the time he's getting ready.

So I was really surprised at how he looked. There were muscles in places there hadn't been before, and hair in places where I didn't know hair grew. I quick closed my eyes before he saw me looking, but by then I started wondering if I was going to look like that someday. Maybe I was already starting to look like that. I never really paid much attention. So by the time Saturday came I really needed some time for myself, to just look and figure things out.

Peering into the hallway one last time, I closed the door quietly behind me and pulled my shirt off. I felt like I was committing some sort of crime. I was in my own bedroom, but it took a few minutes to work up the courage to take off the rest of my clothes. It was weird at first, like I was standing in front of a room full of people, but it was just me.

I walked slowly to the mirror that hangs on the closet door. I started with my arms. They looked kind of skinny and straight. Soda's had been kind of bulgy in places. I won't even start on what Darry's arms look like, but he's older and I've never been able to compare myself to him. I tried flexing my arm, bending it at the elbow and tightening it so hard that I almost got a cramp. There was something there, when I did that. I could feel it with my other hand. I know I'm strong for my age, just from wrestling with my brothers, but I never looked to see if the muscles looked like anything.

I went down to my chest next. I looked really closely. It was completely flat. That kind of disappointed me. Soda had had some bigger areas on his chest, like more defined spots where I could see the muscle under the skin. I've seen him with his shirt off plenty of times, but for some reason I never really paid attention until the day in the bedroom, when I could see everything at once.

Lower down, my stomach didn't look all that impressive either. I don't mean my stomach. I mean my abdomen. The part between your chest and your…well…anyway, you know where I mean. It was just flat, but I couldn't find any noticeable muscles.

I finally took a deep breath and went one step lower. I looked as close as I could, standing in front of a mirror and all, but there weren't any hairs or anything. Does everybody get them there? It seemed stupid. What was the point? But there wasn't anything.

I started to wonder if there was something wrong with me. I took a close look at my…um…stuff, too. Everything looked small compared to Soda's. Maybe there is something wrong with me. Soda says you have to take showers with other guys when you get to high school, and the thought was making me feel sick. People would laugh at me if this was how I looked. What if I never got bigger muscles or a bigger…I glanced over me in the mirror then and froze.

Darry's POV

Darn Soda, never puts anything back where it belongs. I was ready to strangle him.

I had been halfway to the school when I realized that I didn't have my wallet. It took just a few seconds of thinking back to remember that Soda had been asking to see my driver's license this morning. I only just got it recently, and Soda just can't wait to get his. That'll be a scary day for motorists everywhere.

I went through the front door and scanned the living room. Not on the coffee table. Not on the end tables. It wasn't in the dining room or the kitchen, either. I even checked inside the cabinets and the refrigerator. With Soda, you just never know.

He probably left it in his room. I walked up the hallway and opened the door without knocking. I knew Ponyboy was home, but I couldn't remember why – when you're sixteen, you don't pay that much attention to what's going on with your ten-year-old brother, that's Mom and Dad's job.

I walked through the door and stopped instantly. I thought he had been reading or sleeping or something when I left. Definitely not this. And he didn't notice me come in.

Pony was standing buck naked in front of the mirror, analyzing every square inch of his body and looking none too happy about it. I almost smiled, remembering doing the same thing around that age. The memory of it was enough to keep me from saying or doing something that would embarrass him to no end. Soda probably would have, and Steve definitely would have, but I was getting too old for that kind of stuff anyway. I tried to figure out how to exit without letting him know I had been standing there.

If I backed out the door and closed it, he would probably hear and know that one of us had seen him. He'd be a mess at dinner, trying to figure out who not to look at and when the teasing would start. That'd give it away on its own.

I didn't need to put any more thought into it, because just then we made eye contact in the mirror. Poor Pony froze like a deer in the headlights, face suddenly bright red and one hand still holding his…well, let's just say he had made his way all the way south in his self-exploration. I almost laughed at how funny it was, like we were two wild animals, prey and predator, and he thought if he didn't move maybe I would forget he was there and go about my business.

Seeing as he was embarrassed as hell and couldn't move, I took it on myself to say something. "Seen my wallet?" I asked, like nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

Ponyboy's eyes darted around the room, but I had a feeling he wasn't looking for my wallet. There were no blankets or sheets on the bed to grab, Mom washes them all on Saturday, and his clothes were…I looked down to find them in a heap by my foot. I looked up at Pony again, who gave me a pleading look. He wasn't sure if I was going to tease him or help him.

I picked the pile of clothes off the floor and tossed it all to him, then spotted my wallet on the dresser next to him. I walked around the beds to the dresser and grabbed my wallet while Pony scrambled through his clothes. I turned around and we nearly rammed into each other as he fought with his shirt. He had gotten his pants on – I noticed his underwear was still on the floor – and his shirt was inside-out and backwards. He stared at the floor looking like his ears were going to ignite. Why couldn't dad be here now? I'm not the person who should be dealing with this.

I sighed deeply. I couldn't just leave him here like this, he'd never be able to look at me again. Or at least not until he was fifteen. I sat down on the bed, thinking back to what kinds of things were going through my head at that age and not sure I remembered well enough.

"Pony, is there anything you wanna ask me about?"

He lifted his chin just enough to look at me and see if I was serious, or mocking him. I guess he made the right assessment.

"Is there anything wrong with me?" he asked quietly.

"Wrong? Like what?" I thought I might have some idea of what he was talking about, but I didn't want to put words in his mouth.

Pony shrugged. "Soda looks different," he explained awkwardly. "He don't look like me anymore."

Yeah, I'd hit the nail on the head. "Pony, Sodapop is older than you."

"Only three years," he replied, confused.

"Yeah, but when it comes to puberty, three years is the difference between a little kid and a man," I blurted out, and was immediately sorry I'd said it. He looked like I'd slapped him. "Look, what is it you want to know? Specifically?"

He sat on the bed next to me. "I don't have big muscles," he started, looking downcast.

"Pony, you're still growing. Your muscles will get bigger someday." He didn't look convinced. 'Someday' wasn't helping him right here, right now. I reached over and gave his arm a squeeze, then around his middle, commenting helpfully, "You've got some muscle in there," and in the process Pony went over backwards on the bed beside me in a fit of giggles, curling up defensively.

I swear, I can't pat the kid on the head any more without it tickling. I hadn't intended to get him all jumpy, but since I was already halfway there I went ahead and followed through with it. "Here's another muscle, and wait, there's one back there," I continued in an even tone, tickling him into a tight ball in the middle of the bed.

He was completely helpless, I could have gone on for an hour until he was a quivering giggling sobbing pleading wreck, but I guess that's the thing about having little brothers. You learn how to lay off when it's time, how to know when enough is enough, so it's just fun – well, maybe someone gets a little ticked off sometimes, but they see you as their big brother instead of the big controlling jerk they have to live with.

Pony peered at me and wiped his eyes.

"I'm done," I assured him.

Slowly, still grinning, he unfolded himself and sat up. I'd noticed that for a ten-year-old, he did have some pretty decent muscle tone. He'd be someone to contend with by the time he was sixteen. Heck, he'd probably be holding his own in a rumble by the time he was fourteen, if he didn't stay too small.

"So what else?" I asked warily, almost afraid to know.

Ponyboy looked down at his hands. "Well, my…um…you know" – I knew exactly what he was talking about, and he was moving into territory where I had no desire to tread – "…my…thing. You know…"

"Alright already, Pony, what's your question?"

"Will it get bigger? Soda said it should get big because girls like it that way."

"I thought you don't like girls."

"I don't. But will it?" he persisted. His curiosity was overriding his embarrassment, and I was the one suffering for it.

"Yeah, it'll get bigger. It's debatable whether girls like it big or not, they say they don't care; but you won't have to worry about that for a while anyway."

Pony looked at me like he wanted to ask something else. At this rate we'd be here all morning. "Shoot," I told him resignedly.

"Um…what does it have to do with girls? It's not like I'll ever let one see it."

I almost laughed. The kid really is lost. Then I realized he was waiting for me to give him an answer, and it wasn't quite as funny anymore. "Well, Pony…um…when a man and a woman…I mean…" I realized I was compulsively running my hand through my hair and stammering like an idiot. "Pony, why don't you just ask Dad about this stuff when he gets home? I have to leave."

"He don't tell me nothing. He just makes jokes."

I remembered that well enough. Dad was as bad as Soda about taking anything seriously. By the time he'd decided he was ready to sit and have "the talk" with me, I already knew everything, so there wasn't much to talk about. I'm pretty sure he'd planned it that way.

Pony shifted around. "Please, Darry," he begged. "Steve thinks I'm dumb for not knowing this stuff. He tells me things and I don't know when to believe him."

There was a shock. I liked Steve well enough, but he was constantly antagonizing Ponyboy. I wondered what sort of garbage he'd been feeding the kid. I almost told Ponyboy to forget it, he'd learn everything soon enough; then it occurred to me that he was walking around with my last name. It wouldn't look good for me if my little brother was going around spouting out backwards nonsense and looking like a fool. I'd be a laughingstock.

"Alright, Ponyboy," I gave in, "get ready for the truth."

For the next forty minutes I sat there with Pony and explained everything to him in more detail than a kid his age ought to know, and I made sure to use all the street terms so he wouldn't sound like a little walking textbook. I couldn't imagine he'd be repeating any of this information soon, but at least he would know what Steve was talking about, and when he was being fed a load of bull.

'So that's it," I finally finished. Pony looked somewhere between captivated and disgusted, like he'd just watched a lion kill an antelope on a nature program. Maybe teetering a little more toward disgusted, though.

His face was bright red, and he was shaking his head. "I'll never do any of that, Darry." He looked up at me suddenly, horrified. "Do Mom and Dad do all that stuff?"

Okay, that's the end for me. "Let's just not even go near that one, Pony. Just make sure you always knock before you go walking into their room at night."

Ponyboy gave a little shiver, and I almost followed along. "Look, I'm an hour late for practice and the coach is gonna make me run extra laps for it, so you'd better appreciate all this," I told him.

I stood up to leave the room, turning around one last time at the doorway. "Hey Pony." He looked up at me. "Just so you know – there are twelve-year-old boys who would give their eye-teeth for a build like yours. So don't sweat it." With that, I turned and left my baby brother sitting there grinning proudly.