♡ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜱᴀʏ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ♡

3 9

(Johnny's POV)

"I told them."

Cary's voice was hushed as she spoke, her eyes doe-shaped as if pleading for forgiveness.

I couldn't decide whether I was relieved or upset that she told them without me. Maybe both.

"Well?" I asked finally, matching her tone.

She sighed and put her chin in her hands. "They think we're going as friends."

I stayed silent. While that was the original plan, I knew Cary and I were both well aware we were past that point now.

"Is that what you told them?"

"No," she defended, "I just said that I was going with you." She folded her arms and sank further into the couch. "They drew that conclusion on their own."

Sure, Cary and I knew, but not even Ponyboy knew about the kisses and the cuddles and the confessions...

How would we tell them?

I chewed on my nails anxiously, thinking of all the possible ways this could go wrong, until I felt someone gently touch my leg. I looked up to see Cary with her hand on my knee, her face gentle and forgiving.

"It's okay, Johnny," she said, "Darry said he's fine with it."

"But he doesn't know, does he?" I blurted out.

She took her hand off my knee and looked down at her lap sadly, answering my question.

I continued, but wished I wouldn't have. "What are they going to do when they think we're going as just friends and find out about what happened?" My mind was moving a million miles an hour, conflicted between scared and angry. "What happens then?"

Cary looked up from her lap, and then I knew I'd gone too far. Her teal eyes were blue with hurt, panging my chest with the pain of realization. That look in her eyes hurt me enough, but knowing that I caused it was nearly too much to bear. I tried to explain myself, tried to apologize, but my voice seemed to be paralyzed.

Then she spoke, her voice quiet and small. "If you don't want to go, that's fine," she started, "but we can't keep hiding it."

Again, I tried to speak, but no sound came out. I watched in horror as she stared at me, as if looking for an explanation, before standing up from the couch and walking towards her room. Not angrily, calmly. As if this was just another Tuesday. As if she was used to this.

And that hurt even more.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, but soon, Two-Bit came out of the kitchen, looking strangely sober. He gave me a pitiful look, and I suddenly hoped he didn't hear our conversation.

He looked at me for a few seconds before taking his leather jacket off of the coat hanger and nodding towards the door. I hesitated for a second, but he opened the door and gave me a look that told me to follow him. I stood up and did so, and we let the screen door slam shut behind us.

Once we were out on the sidewalk, he pulled out a fresh pack of cigarettes and handed one to me, flicking open his lighter.

He didn't say much until we were about a block away from the house. I didn't know where he was taking me, but I didn't ask.

"Listen, kid," he said finally after taking a drag on his cigarette, "I didn't hear much of what y'all were talkin' about, but I think I got the gist."

A knot formed in my stomach. This is exactly what I feared would happen, and what Cary didn't seem to be worried about. Though I hated thinking that way, it was the truth.