The Little Winston

Chapter 14-I Get Stitches

 Pony took my threat very seriously, and no one ever found out about my feelings for Sodapop. Weeks were great, and passed happily. I started to read more, and I got really good at stocking quickly. It was a fun time. Until one night.

"Thanks for doing the dishes."

"No problem, Pony. And don't worry, Darry won't know." He looked up at me from his book, and I winked, which made him laugh. It was fun making him laugh, since it wasn't something you heard very often from Ponyboy.

I grabbed a plate and dried it, before walking over to the cupboard. I could never reach them, since they kept the plates on the top shelf. One of the guys had to get one down for me, which would end in all of them making fun of me for being short. I could almost reach it if I got on my tip toes, and I hated asking for help with things I offered to do. I could do this.

"You want some help there?" Pony started to get up to help me.

"No, no," I replied quickly. "If I just...." I jumped in an attempt to get the plate on the shelf but it fell. The plate slipped and shattered to a million pieces on the floor.

"Oh, my god! Are you okay?" Ponyboy ran over to me, and his eyes seemed to keep returning to my leg. Sure enough, embedded in the front of my calf was a three inch piece of glass. The pain hit in that moment, and it felt like my whole leg was covered in flames.

Ponyboy kept repeating that I was okay as he put my arm over his shoulder and helped me to the couch, the pain growing with every step I took. We made it to the couch and he went to the kitchen, returning with a pair of scissors. He cut the leg of my pants off, before carefully removing the plate piece. That was the worst part of it, the removal. He grabbed the first aid kit and looked over my cut.

"It looks like you're gonna need stitches. I can call-"

"No, Pony, just do it." I knew they would take me to the hospital no matter who they called, and they didn't have the money for that. Besides, I'd had stitches before and they didn't hurt that bad.

Pony looked terrifed as he took the needle to my skin. I grabbed the side of the couch and tried to give him some reassurance, telling him he was doing a great job. His hand was shaking, there was no way he was gonna be able to get through this.

"Give me the needle." I stuck my hand out and put my knee to my chest, giving me the best view possible. He didn't ask questions as I laced the thread. It hurt like hell, but it was over quicker than it would have taken Pony to do it.

I laid my head back on the couch, gathering myself. "Uh, I know I'm gonna regret asking this, but how are you so good at giving yourself stitches?"

I sat up so I could look him in the eyes. "I had to be. No one was there to help me. You're lucky kid."

"What about your parents?" I laughed, knowing the answer to the question. He sat there, knowing it wasn't because they were busy making Sunday night dinner. I wasn't surprised Dally hadn't said anything about them.

"You really think they give a shit about me? The only person who cared was my mom. When she died, my dad never won a father of the year award." He gave me a sympathetic look. It wasn't a happy story. I tried not to talk about my parents with the guys.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Me and Dallas have made peace with it, so it's okay." I gave him a small smile. We both knew it wasn't okay, but there's not much you can say about it. 

Pony put the first aid kit back and we were both sitting on the couch when the door opened. Dally walked in, and looked down at me in my underwear. "Woah, what's going-What happened to your leg man?"

"I fell." I said it nonchalantly and Pony laughed again. Dally squeezed in next to me on the couch and gingerly touched them. It didn't hurt too bad, but just enough to make me flinch. He didn't do it again.

"Did Pony give you these?"

"Nah, I did it myself."

"Jeez kid, that's tough." He smiled at me, proudly. His smile was so different than the one I remembered. It wasn't as happy. He had seen too much to be happy, and that made perfect sense to me. "What? Do I got food in my teeth man?"

"No." I chuckled lightly, not sure if I wanted to start a conversation like the one we had had that night on the porch. But sometimes I just can't help myself. "It's just your smile, it's different. It's not as bright as it used to be."

"Yeah, pain makes people change."

"Why didn't you ever come back for me?" I impulsively blurted. I knew it was a bad idea the second I said it.

"Shoot man, I don't know. Maybe because you were a reminder of a life I wanted to forget."

"Do you still feel that way?" My brother wanted to forget me. He wanted to forget the one person who had stuck with him. I tried to calm myself down, but just like Dally, once I get fired up it's hard to stop.

His eyes showed sympathy, and he didn't have to tell me his answer for me to know. I was just a weight to him, a reminder of the kid he was. A reminder of how he used to care, of how he once had feelings.

"Do you even want me here Dallas?" I stood up as fast as I could, but that wasn't very fast I imagine. I grabbed a pair of shorts from a bag I had next to the couch and slipped them on. "Do you even care at all about what you put me through, having to lose mom, and then you too?" I was yelling now, and the second I brought up my mom, the fire in Dallas' eyes was out of control. I couldn't even imagine what my eyes looked like now.

"Of course not!" He stood up and went to the other side of the room. I was furious. I never would have left him there, never would have left him to fend for himself. It was in that moment I faced a truth I had been pushing down. I resented Dallas. I resented him for leaving me. "You think I want you here? You think I want you as a constant reminder of how fucked up I've become? I wish you never would have came!" He screamed at me. "But no, here we are because you got a wild hair up your ass and decided to make your problems," He pointed at himself, "My problems!"

"Dally, calm down man." I hadn't noticed the guys come into the house, but sure enough they were all standing there. They didn't dare try to touch one of us. Johnny was trying to reason with Dally, but that didn't work. Nothing would.

"You know what, Dallas, if you don't want me here, I'll just leave."

"You should."

"Fine."

"Fine! I'll make sure to send you a postcard." I screamed and grabbed my jacket, putting it on and limping to the door. The room was silent.

"I won't miss you, no one will!" I know he didn't mean it, but I made sure to slam the door behind me.