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Sodapop raised his shirt up and looked away. “Just put it in, already. Do it, do it, do it!”
Darry chuckled, pulling the needle out of the box. “Calm down, I’m not even ready yet. Are you sure you don’t want to try it yourself this time? You’re gonna have to start doing it eventually.”
Soda wasn’t scared of many things. Hell, when Darry forced him to go to the doctor a month ago and the test results came back positive for diabetes of all things, he took it in stride. He’d been through a lot in his 17 years. He could handle low blood sugar. That was nothing.
What he couldn’t handle apparently were the twice-daily injections of insulin. His stomach and the side of his abdomen were tender and already starting to bruise in some places.
“I think I’m never gonna move out. I’m gonna live with you forever so you keep doing this for me- ow!”
“Buddy, I didn’t even do it, yet, I’m just feeling around for a good spot.”
Ponyboy came into the kitchen at the sound of Soda in pain.
“What’s going on?” He eyed the needle in Darry’s hand and the nausea that Soda was trying to hide on his face. “Oh.” Pony sat down at the table. “Want me to try this time?”
“NO.” Both Darry and Soda said together.
“God, okay. I’m just trying to be helpful.”
“You know what would be helpful?” Darry said, drawing the insulin into the syringe. He didn't look up as he said to Ponyboy, “Distract him. Make some shadow puppets or something. You know what doctors do with babies during check-ups? He’s gonna need that because he’s acting like a big baby .”
Darry didn’t say it to be mean and Soda actually cracked a weak smile. “Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll make you a deal. You do it for me just throughout the end of the month? And then I’ll try.”
Darry rolled his eyes.
“It just hurts so much!” Soda whined.
“Hey, I know how to distract you! Wanna hear what I learned in school?” Pony says.
Soda raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I would just love to hear what you learned in school right now.”
“You’re being sarcastic, but this works, I swear. So I was in gym, and you know Ryan?”
“How would I know Ryan?”
“Well, I guess you wouldn’t know Ryan. But he’s annoying, right? Like his folks own some fancy business or something, and he has perfect hair, and he thinks he’s so great because he made the football team every year, and he just got a new car but it’s an ugly color but it’s whatever you know?”
Soda waved his hand in the air like get-to-the-point .
“ANYWAY, we were doing those climbing bar things and he said he couldn’t go very fast because he hurt his shoulder in basketball practice- did I mention he plays basketball too? And you know what coach says to him?”
“Hm?”
“Coach said that your body can only focus on one point of pain at a time, and that it’s usually whichever one is hurting the most. And that if his shoulder was hurting too much to climb, he should twist his ankle on purpose or something so that he wouldn’t feel the pain in his shoulder anymore!”
Darry stopped what he was doing and looked up. “Your coach actually said that?”
“Yep! And guess what? The fear of that threat was so painful that Ryan forgot that he was in too much pain to climb, and guess what? He did it anyway. He also got second place because even when injured he has to be better than everyone else.”
“Is that true?” Soda said.
“Yeah, he got second and this kid called Parker got first. I didn’t place. But I wasn’t last! I was like somewhere in the middle.”
“No, I mean the thing about the pain. Is that true?”
“Beats me.” Ponyboy shrugs. “The point is this. If you’d like, I can stomp on your foot really hard at the exact same time Darry pokes you. I guarantee I can do it harder than he can. And then, guess what? You won’t even feel the needle.”
Sodapop went slack jawed. “Ponyboy, that is a TERRIBLE idea!”
“I dunno,” Darry said. “I kind of like it. On three, Ponyboy. Ready? One. . . two. . .--”
“No!” Sodapop jumped out of the way. “What is wrong with y’all? I’ll do it my damn self.”
“No need.” Darry handed the empty syringe to Soda. “I got it done while Ponyboy was talking about that Ryan kid. You didn’t even notice.”
“Hey, the distraction worked!” Ponyboy exclaimed.
“Sure did, buddy.” Darry fist bumped Ponyboy as he walked out of the kitchen. “Good job, kid.”
“Thanks.”
After Darry left, Soda turned to his younger brother. “There is something seriously messed up with y’all.”
Pony shrugged. “Probably runs in the family. But hey, the offer still stands if you need help again tomorrow!” Ponyboy grinned and went back to his room, leaving Sodapop alone in the kitchen with the needle in his hand.
“Maybe Darry’s right,” he muttered. “I gotta figure out how to do this myself.”