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Ponyboy doesn't fear lots of things. But, he definitely fears vomit. And, it's not a secret. The whole gang knows. They like to tease him about it, which isn't unusual, but they usually knew their limits. Not with this, however.
"Pony," Steve said, a smirk on his face. The gang was currently having dinner at the Curtis's house, Darrel cooking.
"Huh? What's up, Steve?" The young teenager asked, putting his fork down. Sodapop could sense Steve was up to no good.
"Steve, what eva' ur' thinkin' about, knock it off," Sodapop grumbled, playfully slapping him on the shoulder. Steve just laughed.
"Hey, Darry. When's this food's due date?" The question made everyone's heads look up at Steve, especially Pony's and Johnny's.
"I don't rememba'. 'Probably in two days? Three at most," Ponyboy felt sick. He was really giving them food that was going to get rotten in two days?! Darry was out of his mind! Steve looked at Ponyboy, slightly chuckling at Pony's disgusted face. Johnny noticed it too, quickly putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Really, Steve?" Was all Johnny said. Darrel noticed his kid brother's face, and smirked as well.
"What's wrong, Pony? Wanna share it?" His question made Ponyboy feel trapped, as if he couldn't speak or move. He shook his head "no", and excused himself.
"I-I need a sec'! I'll be right back!" Was all Pony said before going to the bedroom and laying on the bed, trying to control his breathing. He couldn't even believe himself for eating that food. It could kill him! Pony just wanted to rest, real bad. And that's what he did.
Pony was awoken to movement on the other side of the bed. He assumed it was probably Two-Bit tryna prank him, but, nothing ever came. A soothing voice did.
"How ya' feelin', Pony?" Soda asked, lying down next to him.
"Sick and disgusted," Was his blunt response. Pony assumed everyone had gone home by now, that's why his older siblings were going to sleep. Sodapop sighed, and wrapped an arm around Pony.
"Do ya' know what's wrong with ur' mind that tricks you into this?" Soda tried to sound "smart". Pony giggled, and tried to explain.
"I guess it's called Emeti-Emetophobia," He started, the middle child getting comfortable as if this was a bedtime story.
"It basically has something to do with sensitive senses and anxiety. Basically, you are afraid of anything to do with vomit," Pony said, Darrel now listening. "You are afraid of anything to do with it. So if you know something could make you sick, or you imagine the food as something else, it sets you off and give you a panic attack," Pony ended, rubbing his temple with two fingers. Soda nodded, kind of understanding bits of it.
"So, what I'm gettin' out of that is you're afraid of throwin' up?" Darry's voice startled Pony, but he nodded nonetheless.
"Yeah. It's a real pain in 'da ass," Pony sighed lying into the pillows. The two siblings laughed, Soda falling down as well.