Chapter Thirty-Seven

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They let me out of the jail the next morning.

My welcoming committee consisted of the entire gang, plus my mother, and their cries of relief and whoops of joy bouyed me up to a high I hadn't been at in a while. I smiled at them all for the first time since Darry died, feeling a little guilty as I did so. Was I forgetting him already? Was I allowed to feel happy if he wasn't there? Was it okay that I felt sort of okay again?

"Hey, kid! You busted out," Two-Bit cheered. He clapped me on the shoulder with a wide, toothy grin.

"I didn't bust out, they let me out," I reminded him, even though I knew he was just joking.

"Thank goodness." Steve draped a protective arm around me, and the guilt souring my belly ramped up a few notches as I leaned into him.

"Toldya they wouldn't be able to keep you in there without charging you with something," Two-Bit said. "What did they have on you, away?"

"Not much," I admitted.

My mother grabbed my hand and squeezed it gently, but I could tell she was beyond excited that I was free again. Already, those few days I had spent behind bars were beginning to feel like nothing more than a bad dream, like just an interlude in the nightmare I had awoken to since Darry's death. I squeezed her hand back in gratitude for the strength just her presence was lending me.

Ponyboy and Soda hovered close to my shoulder, obviously wondering if I was going to break down like I had when they had visited me last. I gave them both a small smile: I was fine for now.

"The cop said you were released because they're arresting someone else?" Bryon asked me. "Did you tell them what really happened?"

I swallowed. "Yeah, I told them Arnie did it."

"Probably wise," Soda said. "We should've just told the truth at the beginning, then you wouldn't've been arrested at all."

"Yeah, well, none of the cops were happy with my story. They said they would arrest Arnie, but he would probably never see trial, since the grand jury wouldn't vote to indict him with murder." My voice shook a little bit. "His father's a bit too influential in this town, it seems."

"Yes." My mother sounded far, far away, in a different time.

"At least you're out," Steve reminded me firmly.

"Sure, but I'd rather be in jail for the rest of my life than let the guy who killed Darry walk free," I said.

"Darry would rather you be out of jail."

"Dear," my mother broke in, "You're crushing my hand."

"Oh! I'm sorry." I released her hand. I had been unaware of just how angry I was, and I tried to shake the frustration away. I was supposed to be overjoyed! I had just been let out of jail, after all- but I couldn't help but feel indignance poisoning my excitement. Darry would be receiving no justice after all.

"Let's go to the Shepherds' bar," Bryon suggested, obviously picking up on my forlorn silence. "Get a few drinks, dance a bit."

"No, no, that's alright, we can just go home," I burst out quickly. I couldn't stomach going to the bar right now, not when I was missing Darry still. I could still remember that night we had danced together- the slight smell of alcohol, the warmth of his arms around me, the soft neon lights- and how he had kissed me for the first time. No, it was too painful for me.

Soda seemed to understand, because he nodded along with my suggestion a little too enthusiastically. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just head back to our place," he said. "It's only ten o'clock anyway."

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