~Emily~
The walk home last night was so awkward. I clearly looked upset, and Ponyboy genuinely looked like he had no idea why.
"I can't believe two Socs talked to me!" He said to me excitedly. "Not one, two!"
"Me either." I had replied glumly, kicking a rock.
"Something wrong?" He had asked.
I blinked hard. "Nope."
It was later than we expected, so Ponyboy walked me home and Dally was already there.
"Can we talk? Dally had asked while bouncing his foot up and down.
"No." I kicked off my shoes and went up to our room to get my pajamas. I got in the shower, and while the hot water ran over me, hot tears poured out of my eyes. I hate crying. Greasers aren't supposed to cry, they have to be tough. At least, that's what Dally always tells me.
I stayed in there longer than usual. I used up all the hot water, and Dally hates it when I do that so I usually try not to. Not this time.
I put on my pajamas and walked back to my room.
As I entered, I saw Dally inside sitting on the edge of my bed. "Look, I'm really sorry, okay? I'm just trying to keep you safe-"
"Save it!" I shouted while sitting angrily on our bed. "Just don't..."
More tears came out. These weren't silent. I let out loud, choked sobs. Shoot.
"Emily..."
"I'm sorry..." I said. "I know that I should be tough and I know that I shouldn't cry but it's just that you're mad at me, and I had a terrible time at the movies, and-"
Dally cut me off mid-sentence. He scoffed. "Literally shut up." He stood and walked out of my room, slightly slamming the door behind him.
I wasn't shocked. Not in the slightest. That's something that my brother would say, my brother who has cold eyes and a hard personality to basically everyone. My brother who was thrown in the cooler for the first time at age 10, my brother who got in fights and robbed stores and slashed people's tires for fun.
I'm surprised that he even tried to apologize to me about earlier.
Deep down I knew he cared about me, he just didn't know how to show it. He had seen to much in his years. Too much. He's been through it all and I'm honestly so surprised he's not dead yet.
I grabbed my diary and a pen from my desk. I wrote about everything, about how Soda told me Ponyboy wanted to get closer, how when we got to the movies Cherry started flirting with him, everything Marcia said.
I lay underneath my covers and scribbled down all my thoughts which is something I did very often, especially when I was upset. The stomach in my brain threw up all my angry words onto the page.
That was all last night. Now it's Saturday morning. I woke up to see Dally was gone. I walked into the kitchen and saw he was making us breakfast.
"Good morning, Em. I made your favorite, blueberry waffles."
"Thanks, Dal'." We sat at the table and ate in silence for a bit.
