1 Soda's POV
I hung the phone up, after what felt like an hour since Pony hung up on me. What did he mean? What do I not understand about this?
But then I had to tell myself that Pony thinks differently from Darry and I. He's way more sensitive than he lets onto, he loves to read, and he's always talking about colors or sunsets or something like that. But since everything happened, he probably didn't have anyone to talk to about that stuff. I immediately felt bad.
I wanted to call him, but I didn't have his phone number. I didn't know where he was, I didn't know if these people where good, or anything. Just the fact that he's still alive.
When the whole gang came back home they found me, sobbing. Steve was at my side in a second, followed by Darry.
"Soda, what's wrong? Did Pony call?" Steve cut to the chase, wanting to know if I knew if something bad had happened to Pony. All I did was nod.
"What did he say?" I swallowed the lump in my throat, and told them what happened. Except for the fact that he basically hates me now. But I old them that he was never coming back. Not until he was ready. Which meant never.
"But you don't know where he is?" Darry had stepped up to the plate, when Steve had shrunken away, clearly upset about Pony.
"No. He didn't say."
"And he didn't say when he was coming back?"
"Only when he's ready." Darry nodded, knowing that meant never too.
"But he isn't hurt?" That's the first thing that I heard that came out of Darry's mouth, that sounded like he actually cared about Pont.
"No. Well, he might of been, but he didn't say anything about it." Darry nodded, and stroked my hair, while I fell asleep.
That was the first night after six years that I had a nightmare.
It was hard living with two women in the house. I was just so use to not having mom around for almost two years now, that I almost forgot how different they are. Like Sharon and Mary had all this extra makeup and junk for their faces in the bathroom. David laughed at me when I found some of Mary's pads, or whatever they're called.
I woke up the next morning, hearing rock and roll music. It was coming from Mary's room. I got up and peeked in her door, just wondering what she was up to.
She was writing something, while banging her head to the music. She only wore her nightgown, which made her look softer than her other clothes. But she still had black eyeliner on.
I walked away, and went to the bathroom to take a shower. I've been here for a week, and I'm already comfortable with this place. Everyone seems to want me, but Mary keeps pushing me away. She isn't mean to me. But she isn't nice to me. She notices that I'm here, but she ignores me. I wondered why.
I took my shirt off, and ran my hands over my damaged torso. My stomach sunk in, leaving my ribs poking out. The skin over my ribs was black, blue and purple. My stomach looked a little yellow. But I was slowly starting to heal. Since I've been eating actual meals, my stomach was looking better than before. Plus I wasn't as depressed as I use to be. Being around happy people, and not being hit or sworn at every time I turned around helped.
I wanted it to stay like this. For a long time. But I had to go back sooner or later.
But I had to live my life the right way first.
Soda thought that I should joining rehab. But I said no. I was going to fix myself by myself. So I threw out all my beers and drugs, and forced myself not to break down. So I though of Soda and Pony. Mostly Soda, because every time I thought of Pony, my heart sank, and I felt guilty. So I thought of Soda, and how much he needed me right now, and then if I did want to think of Pony, I thought of how much I wanted him back, and that this would help.
I would do whatever it would take to get him back. I love him. I will do anything to get him back.
Sequel on the way. Oh, and sorry it was short. I just really needed to finish this story, so I could start writing the sequel.