How things really are. // Johnnyboy

mistake or fate?

As I expected, the movie isn't too enjoyable in the afternoon. It's too hot and stuffy, and the screen isn't clear. But I stay anyways, because I have nothing better to do.

By the time the movie is over, I'm a puddle of sweat and Johnny isn't too much better. At least he left his jean jacket at home.

We start walking home, getting as close as we dare to random people's sprinklers to cool off. I wish I had brought some quarters to get something to drink.

"Let's agree to never do that again." Johnny says, sounding sluggish. He wears a white tee with jeans. His shirt is too small, so it hugs his chest and...some other things my brain scolds at me for noticing.

"Yeah, I think we should stick to the evening showings. Way cooler." I say.

"Don't say cooler. You'll just remind me of how hot I am."

I stay silent.

Halfway home, we walk past the park where we ran to the night of The Incident. They have some sprinklers going off, and since it's public property Johnny and I go to cool off. The water is the best thing I've ever felt.

"I promise I didn't know it was going to get so hot." Johnny says.

I believe him. Weather in Oklahoma is about as predictable as jazz music.

We get up to start walking home, but Johnny trips over a branch. He hits the ground hard.

"That was some fall, Johnny." I say teasingly.

"Can it, Pony. I get dizzy when stuff like this happens."

A pit forms in my stomach. In school, we leaned the word for this, vertigo. It's something a lot of abuse victims suffer from after so many years of abuse.

My tone softens. "Let me help you up, buddy."  I extend my hand.

He takes it, and with surprising weakness, he grips it. I pull him up.

Suddenly he's way too close, and it vaguely registers in my mind that I might have pulled too hard.

I don't move away, and he doesn't either. He's so close I notice that he has flecks of gold in his deep brown eyes. It's breathtaking.

I clear my throat, and I step away, but not before I see the deep blush on Johnny's face. We walk home in silence.

When I walk in, I'm surprised to see Soda home. He should be at the DX by now. Even more surprising, he's smoking.

"Soda?" I say, the heat adding to my confusion.

"Oh, hey Ponyboy. You're home early." His voice breaks on the last word, and I notice his hand shaking.

"Something happen?" I say, my voice cautious. I sit next to Soda on our couch. "Why aren't you at the DX?" I hope I didn't memorize his schedule wrong.

"Oh, I was. But uh..." He looks away, but not before I see the tears in his eyes. "Sandy was at the DX, too."

That confuses me. Why would he be so shaken up about that?

"Okay..." I say, trying to cue him to go on.

Soda gets the hint. "She was there, with some other guy. A Soc. A godamn soc of all people." He shakes his head and takes a long puff of his cigarette.

Betrayal is written all over his face. I feel so bad for him that I have to stop myself from hugging him spontaneously. That would get him crying, then I would start crying, and then Darry would come home to his two bawl-baby brothers he's working his butt off to support.

So, instead, I say in my gentlest voice. "I'm so sorry, Pepsi-Cola." That was our dads nickname for him. Suddenly, I feel like crying too.

He shakes his head. "Oh, don't be, baby brother. I had a feeling. She was smiling so much more, spending less time with me, and one time when I called her a guy answered. She told me it was her dad, but her dads a drunk. He's never awake."

His voice is so pitiful that this time I do hug him. He cries in the quiet way he thinks he has to, and I sit there, heart bleeding for him.

"Any girl ever does this to you, Pony, you just let me know. We'll blow my paycheck on snacks from the convenience store." Soda says, and I laugh despite myself. This particular scenario wouldn't happen with a girl at least, but the sentiment warms me.

His statement brings me back to Johnny. I find myself comparing how I act around him to how Soda acted around Sandy. It's shockingly similar. The nervousness. The red face. The stuttering.

I didn't move away today when he was that close to me.

I sigh. Well, crap.