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Sunlight gleamed through the window, it was hot, boiling.
Steve and Ponyboy were parked in an empty parking lot. Steve had been tasked with watching Ponyboy for the day, a job he begrudgingly agreed to with a sigh and an eye roll. Pony knew that Steve wasn’t his biggest fan. Frankly, he wasn’t Steve's biggest fan either, but Sodapop loved him so Ponyboy could hold his tongue and keep the sarcastic comments from coming out of his mouth.
Ponyboy wasn’t sure why Steve decided that Pony needed to learn to drive. They were sitting on the couch watching the TV when Steve suddenly proclaimed that Pony should know how to drive. Maybe it was because Steve was pissed off that he had to stay with Pony that day, but in only a few seconds Steve was up and throwing on his shoes yelling, “Get up kid! It’s‘bout time you learned to do somethin’ yourself for once!”
They piled into Steve’s old, red Ford Falcon that was being held together by duct tape and prayers. Steve had been saving up for this car since he was 11, and it was his prized possession. When he finally bought it at the dealership he and Soda had driven it around for hours. Ponyboy was worried that Soda was never coming back. Neither of them had their license at that time, and the way Steve came driving down their road it was a miracle they hadn’t gotten caught. Despite the shine of a brand new, completely owned car, the thing was junk since the moment Steve drove it off the lot. Once they had parked in the driveway it broke down. They couldn’t get the car to turn on. It took multiple days and nights of endless worrying to finally get it up and running again. Since then, Steve had hardly let anyone besides himself and Soda touch it. Frankly, Ponyboy was surprised Steve would let him even look at it, much less drive it.
Steve yelled at Ponyboy to put his seatbelt on, saying something like “I can’t have Darry on my ass about you,” and then he drove off. He took Ponyboy to a remote parking lot. The black pavement was surrounded by trees a mile tall, no other people were anywhere in sight. The sun beat down on them, reflecting from the concrete and into Ponyboy’s eyes. Sweat dripped down his forehead yet when he turned to look at Steve he looked unaffected, leaning back with his one hand around the back of Pony’s chair and the other hanging out the window. He had sunglasses on, so Ponyboy couldn’t see his eyes, but if he had to guess he would have suggested they were bored, uninterested.
“I’m not so sure about this, Steve,” Ponyboy mumbled. His hands were sweaty with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. He looked up at him, hoping to get some encouragement, but Steve continued staring ahead.
“You’ll be fine kid, I learned to drive when I was 12, it’s an important life skill. One you need to know. All you have to do is press down on the break and move the car into drive. Then, when you take your foot off the brake, you’ll automatically start moving.”
Ponyboy slowly does as he is instructed, “Okay, Alright. The car is in drive, now what do I do?”
“You drive,” Steve says, lighting a cigarette.
“But what if-” Pony starts but is quickly cut off.
“No,” Steve says.
“What do you mean?” Ponyboy asks, confused.
“I mean no! You think too much. You’re always in your head. Sometimes you just gotta work things out, and roll with the punches. Take your foot off the brake and start from there, if something bad happens, we will figure it out as we go. Now, drive.”
Ponyboy hesitantly takes his foot off the brake.
The car slowly crept forward until Ponyboy slammed on the brakes again.
Steve flew forward and slammed his hand on the windshield to keep from going any further.
“The hell was that for?” Steve asked, turning to look at Ponyboy with his mouth hanging open.
“I was nervous! I’ve never driven before!” Pony claimed, trying to come up with any reason why he would have stopped.
“Come on kid, we don’t have time to mess around. It’s not that hard, take your foot off the brake and let the car roll forward. There is nothing in your way. Now. Drive.” Steve instructed, bringing his eyes back to the empty lot in front of them, mumbling under his breath with disdain.
Ponyboy shook him off. He wouldn’t let Steve’s apparent dislike for Ponyboy get into his head. Pony knew how to do this. There were kids half his age driving cars around here. It was no different than anything he’d ever done before. He just needed to concentrate, and then slowly ease his foot off the pedal…
The car started to roll forward again, yet this time Ponyboy did not brake. He looked out of the corner of his eye for a sign of approval from Steve, but he remained impassive. Obviously, it was ridiculous of Ponyboy to think he would do anything differently. Pony refocused on the concrete in front of him. He had plenty of room to keep driving forward. With growing confidence, Ponyboy thought he might be able to go faster.
He brings his foot to the gas pedal, pressing down. The car gives a jolt forward, going much faster than Ponyboy intended, before he pressed on the brake again, sending them back.
The momentum had knocked the sunglasses off of Steve’s face, so Ponyboy could see his furious stare.
“What the hell kid? You were doing fine, why’d you mess it up? God, you can’t do anything right, you want me to hold your hand through it? Again, this time, no gas. Just keep driving straight and turn when we reach the end of the lot.” Steve instructed.
Ponyboy nodded sheepishly. Ignoring the insults Steve constantly threw at him was easier when he could hide in his room or run to Johnny or Soda. It was much harder to brush them off when he was sitting in the passenger seat of the car he was trying to drive.
Taking a deep breath, Pony steadied himself. This was it. This was the time he was going to do it right. Ponyboy could do this, it was easy. All he needed to do was concentrate–
“Hurry up kid, we don’t have all day,” Steve said.
Ponyboy fought the urge to roll his eyes (he failed) and let out a huff of air (he failed that too) until he finally eased his foot off the brake pedal.
With the car in motion, Pony kept the wheel straight until they reached the end of the parking lot.
“Know turn the wheel, it doesn’t have to be a sharp turn, there is plenty of room to go,” Steve instructed.
And that’s how the rest of the afternoon went. Steve gave instructions and feedback as Ponyboy drove in circles around that empty parking lot. Eventually, when Ponyboy grew confident enough, Steve finally let him use the gas pedal again, (“press it down, very slowly,”).
By the time they were done, it was dark, but it hadn’t felt like the hours it must have been. Ponyboy could almost forget that it was Steve that was teaching him. Sometime in the hours they had been together Ponyboy had forgotten that it was Steve, Sodapop’s best friend, the kid that hated him. He had been replaced by Steve, a member of the gang, the person who taught Ponyboy how to drive.
“Alright kid, that’s enough for today,” Steve had said, and then hopped out of the passenger’s seat and walked over to the driver, “We have to get you home before Darry thinks that I’ve kidnapped you, not that it would make sense, you would not be worth kidnapping.”
Steve most likely meant that as an insult, and yet, Ponyboy didn’t take it as one. He laughed as he hopped out of the driver's seat and responded, “Yeah, you would have returned me within the hour.”
Steve smirked, a small quirk of the lips, for only a second before he made his face normal again. Pony gets back in the car and Steve drives them off, taking Ponyboy home.
Steve pulls up to the house but doesn’t go into the driveway. “Go in there kid, Darry and Soda are probably waiting for you,” Steve said, looking in any direction other than the house.
Ponyboy gets out of the car and starts to walk towards the house. When he reaches the gate he turns around to look at Steve, who has not pulled away yet, and says “Thanks for teaching me.”
He could still hear Steve’s chuckle as he stepped through the door.
~
Steve continued to give Ponyboy driving lessons after that. Once a week, they would manage to find time and go into the lot to drive. One time, Steve even let Pony out onto the road! (“Only because you’ve been doing well today, do not let this get to your head.”)
Ponyboy started to look forward to these weekly sessions. Something that would have surprised him months ago. Pony, looking forward to hanging out with Steve? No way. Not possible. You had the wrong Ponyboy Curtis.
But somehow, with all the time they’d spent together, they had grown more of a relationship other than ‘people that hung out because of their best friend/brother’ (long title, but fitting). They bantered back and forth, and yes, Steve still insulted him constantly, but it was less personal. He teased him the same way Soda or Dally would. And now, Pony could tease back. Most of the time, he is met with eye rolls or grunts, but on a few occasions, he had managed to get Steve to smile before Steve quickly smothered it with a glare.
Ponyboy hadn’t realized how much he hated having Steve hate him. Ponyboy didn’t like to be hated by anyone, the feeling always made his skin itchy and something crawled in the pit of his stomach. Whenever he was insulted by a soc, mocked by a fellow greaser for being ‘soft’ (he was not, how can you be soft as a greaser?), or even a jab from one of his school friends. Ponyboy hated thinking people didn’t like him, but he thought Steve was the exception. He didn’t mind when Steve hated him because he had hated him all his life. It wasn’t personal, it was situational. Steve would have hated anyone who was Soda’s younger brother. Pony was okay with that.
Except he wasn’t.
Only after Ponyboy didn’t mind Steve’s presence, did he realize how much he dreaded walking through his front door and finding Steve on the couch talking to Soda. A pit formed in his stomach and an ache started in the back of his head. He had always chalked it up to annoyance, Steve took his brother from him, but now Ponyboy knows it was something much more than that.
Which was stupid, he was a greaser, he lived his life in fear, he had been jumped a few times in his life, and he was surrounded by people who were cold, hard, and mean. He was tuff, and he shouldn’t let Steve affect him so much.
But Steve did, and now he didn’t. So that was a problem solved.
Steve and Pony’s evolving relationship had been noticed by the rest of the gang as well. Soda shot Steve a worried look when he didn’t immediately object to Pony being their tag-along to the drive-in. He had furrowed his brows and placed his hand on his forehead, pretending to check his temperature. Steve had thrown Soda off, grumbling about how he was being ridiculous and that of course he didn’t want Pony to come, (which had caused that pit in his stomach to form again) but he knew that Soda would want him to come anyway, so he wasn’t going to fight it.
Steve had given Ponyboy a long look after that, almost like he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to. Ponyboy looked away, embarrassed and awkward, but when he turned to look at Steve again he was already walking out the door.
And just the day after that, while Soda was out with Sandy and Darry was at work, Steve took Ponyboy driving in that old parking lot.
~
Ponyboy paced anxiously through the house while he waited for his brothers to return home. Dark clouds continue to roll through the sky, and occasional flashes of lightning brighten up the sky. Darry had warned Ponyboy of the storm that morning. The sun had shone down, heat baring down on Ponyboy as he walked out the door to go to school. There was not a cloud in the sky. Still, Darry had made Pony promise that he would come straight home after school. The gray clouds had started to come in as he walked home, and now, after he finished his homework, the storm threatened to spill over any second now, and yet, Soda and Darry still weren’t home.
Pony tried to reason with himself, he knew his brothers’ would be okay, they were smart enough to know to get home before the storm. Soda was probably seconds from bursting through the door, dx shirt unbuttoned, with Steve grinning at some joke Soda had said. Darry would come after, he’d kick off his shoes and sit in his chair reading the newspaper while the storm raged on outside. But the more time the door sat closed the more Ponyboy began to worry.
Another crack of thunder made the house shake, the storm was getting closer. Ponyboy looked out the window to see if either of his brothers were near, but, with a jolt of horror, he noticed that Darry’s car was in the driveway.
Pony felt his heart drop into his stomach at the sight of his brother’s car, that meant that Darry must have come home, he was home but had not come inside. Where was he? What was he doing? Why hadn’t he come inside and wrapped Pony in his arms and told him that he was fine and that they weren’t hurt or dead in a ditch?
No, Darry didn’t comfort Ponyboy, not since Mama and Dad died.
Either way, Darry had come home, and left, and Ponyboy doesn’t know where he is.
Ponyboy was thinking emotionally, he was being dramatic. Come on, he was a greaser, he knew how to think with logic, how to use his head. He needed to stop getting worked up over things that could be easily fixed.
Ponyboy opened the door and was met with a gust of wind that threatened to throw him backward, “Darry?” Ponyboy yelled to the world, but his voice was lost in the wind. “Darry are you there?” He tried again, but he couldn’t hear himself over the storm that crept closer and closer.
Ponyboy jumped off the steps, the door slamming behind him, and walked around the car, the house, the sidewalk, looking for Darry, except he couldn’t find him anywhere.
His heart pounds in his chest, growing faster and faster as his search gives no results. He feels a sharp sting on the bottom of his foot and then looks down to realize that in his haste, he had forgotten to put shoes on. A small rock stuck out of his foot, and it fell away with a swipe of his hand. Blood started to well around the mark, but Ponyboy couldn’t feel it anymore. He couldn’t feel anything, only the cold wind that whipped around him, ruining his perfectly greased hair.
The first few raindrops started to spill from the sky as Ponyboy moved to the car again, double-checking Darry wasn’t asleep inside. He had never done that before, but Ponyboy had to make sure. Or else why would his brother leave him? He knew that Ponyboy had a fear of storms. A very, very, tuff fear of storms that could send him crying under his covers.
Ponyboy peered through the window of the white truck, only to find the keys sitting on the front seat. Pony tugs on the door handle, and it opens with little resistance.
Shakily, Ponyboy reaches out to grab Darry’s car keys, the rain starting to fall harder, running down his forehead and onto his chin before hitting the ground. Another bolt of lightning hits closer, and Pony can feel the world vibrate around him. Ponyboy jumps in the car to shield himself from the weather. He looks down, when did his hands start shaking? His breathing picked up as the rain poured down faster. The wind shook the car, and Pony froze. Darry and Soda can’t be walking out in this. They could get hurt. Pony can’t lose anything else, anyone else. He can’t lose them. He can’t lose them
He can’t.
Lose.
Them.
Without thinking, Pony pushes the key in the ignition and twists. He turns on the wipers just like how Steve had taught him. Pony had to move the chair closer to the wheel, Darry was much taller than he was. He moves the gear into reverse, places one shaking hand on the wheel, and pushes his bare foot on the pedal. Ponyboy makes a mental note to thank Steve the next time he sees them, and puts the car into drive.
Water had dripped from Pony’s hair onto the driver’s seat. His clothes had clung to his skin, making him feel itchy. There was a squelch that sounded every time Ponyboy moved, Ponyboy couldn’t help but think that, if Darry were here, he would be yelling at him for getting his car wet.
Pony had never driven in the rain before. It pounded on the roof of the car, it was so much louder here than it was in the house. Every thump of rain or crack of thunder reverberated through Pony, making him jump. His wild eyes scanned the road, constantly looking for any other person, car, or whatever else could be out in this storm. Pony tried to blink the tears he could feel welling in his eyes away. He couldn’t cry while driving, he was tuff, he was Ponyboy Curtis, Darry’s little brother, Dally’s friend. He wasn’t afraid of any lightning.
Yet still, with every crash, and every flash of light, Pony feels his heart stop and his hands clench.
Driving Darry’s truck was different than Steve’s Ford Falcon, although Pony couldn’t tell if that was because of the difference of cars or the difference of situations.
When Pony was driving with Steve, it was always sunny and bright. He had Steve in the passenger seat, giving him condescending suggestions. Even though Pony was sure Steve never complimented him, there was a comfort in having him next to Pony. Steve was his safety net, and now that was taken away from him.
Pony tried not to look where Steve would normally be sat, it would only make his erratic heart beat faster. He tried to pace his breathing and peer through the storm, but with the wipers moving as fast as they could Pony could still hardly see. He had underestimated how hard it had been raining. He could only see a few feet in front of him. He tried not to let the thunder rolling through the sky frighten him. He can’t be scared while driving, that could cause him to wreck. He can’t get in a wreck.
He can’t die just like his parents did.
Ponyboy wasn’t sure where he was driving, but it was almost like his mind when on autopilot, going to the first place where they could be.
Ponyboy could feel his blood pounding from the bottoms of his feet to the top of his head. He had become attuned to all of his surroundings. The quiet whir of the ac, the rustling of the branches outside, the shallowness of his breath.
Ponyboy followed the route in his mind, turning left here, then right there, until finally, Ponyboy had managed to reach his first destination.
The DX lights were still shining brightly through the rain. Ponyboy slammed on the brakes, not expecting the entrance. He prayed his car didn’t skid, something he learned could happen from one of his driving lessons, and to his luck, the brakes worked fine. He pulled in and parked taking up two spots. He clenched the keys in his fist and ran towards the DX.
Pony burst through the door to find Steve, Soda, and Darry huddled inside. Darry was wrapped in a towel drying his arms while Soda and Steve sat on the counter. They looked to be in the middle of a conversation when Pony ran in, now they stared at him as if he was a ghost.
Pony felt his heart lurch into his throat, making it a struggle to swallow.
“Pony, what the hell are you doing here? I told you to stay home–” Darry started to lecture, but he stopped when he saw Soda lurching forward to scoop Pony in his arms.
Soda, who was more in tune with everyone else’s emotions than his own, grabbed Ponyboy to his chest and held him tightly.
“It’s alright Pony, we’re all fine see?” Soda comforted, whispering into Pony’s ear so that no one else could hear him. Pony fisted his hands in Soda’s shirt, dropping the car keys onto the floor. They both ignored the clatter, and Pony could feel his breathing return to normal. The hole that had formed in his stomach resolved. A few tears slipped through his eyes, but Ponyboy could just blame that on the rain, but from the way Soda held him tighter Pony knew that Soda knew.
Finally, taking a deep breath, Pony pulled away from Soda. Soda kept his arm around Ponyboy assessing him up and down.
Ponyboy tore his gaze from Soda to Darry, who seemed to be coming to a realization of his own. Darry's face crumples looking at Pony, and he takes a step closer to him. Once Darry reaches Ponyboy, he runs a hand through his hair, all the grease came out in the rain, “Hey kid, what’s wrong Pony?” Darry asks, his eyebrows creased as he continued to mess with his wet hair.
“Oh, nothin’” Pony tries to say, but the lump in his throat makes it difficult to talk, “Just worried I guess.”
Darry face softens, “Well we’re alright, see?” Darry takes his towel off and wraps it around Ponyboy’s shoulders, he picks up the car keys, but before he can ask the question Ponyboy knows he wants to ask, Ponyboy asks his own.
“Your car was in the driveway, but you weren’t anywhere, why’d you walk here?” Pony asks.
Darry lets out a loud sigh and places his hands on his hips. Soda still held his arm around Ponyboy’s shoulder as if Ponyboy would collapse if he didn’t.
“Well, I got home before the storm started, but I realized that I forgot to tell Soda about it, and he never looks at the forecast. I didn’t want him walking alone in the storm. I should have told you Pony, I forgot that you were scared of–” Darry was cut off this time by Ponyboy, who had quickly shot Darry a frantic look. Steve and him may be on better terms, but he didn’t want to let anyone else know that he was scared of storms.
Darry looked confused but continued his story, “Well anyway, I walked here to tell Soda, I didn’t want to drive in case the storm got so bad while I was driving I crashed, but I needed to tell Soda. And Soda said a few days ago their phone had broken, they hadn’t gotten a new one,” Darry explained, “I should have told you Pony. I wasn’t thinking. I had seen you through the window so I knew you were safe. I just wanted to make sure Soda didn’t do anything stupid. I thought that we could make it back in time, but the storm started and we decided it would be best to stay in here.”
Ponyboy nodded through Darry’s story. Soda had leaned his forehead against Ponyboy’s temple. Pony had stopped shaking, but with every new bolt of lightning Pony still jumped. Pony could see the guilt in Darry’s gaze, so he reached out to grab Darry’s sleeve and said, “It’s alright Dar, I get it.”
Darry smiled at Ponyboy, and then pulled the keys up in front of Ponyboy’s face, “Now, how exactly did you get here Ponyboy?” Darry asked.
“Oh come on Dar we were having a nice moment, why do you have to ruin it,” Soda complained, shooting Darry a playful glare.
“Ponyboy you can’t drive! What in the hell were you thinking? You could have killed someone, you could have killed yourself! Come on kid, you have to use your head!” Darry starts, but Ponyboy interrupts him.
“But I do know how to drive!” Ponyboy starts.
Darry raises a suspicious eyebrow, “Oh you do know? How then, how do you know Ponyboy?” Darry asks, trying to keep his voice calm.
“I taught him,” Steve says from behind Darry. He had been so quiet, Ponyboy had forgotten he was there.
“You taught Ponyboy how to drive?” Soda asks incredulously.
“Yeah,” Steve says sounding strained. “I figured he ought to know how, and you guys weren’t teachin’ him. Figured it’s time he learns how to do something for himself.”
Darry puts his hands to his temple, “By god, when this storm is over and we are home I will have words with both of you,” Darry says, giving both Pony and Steve a glare. Steve just shrugs and pulls both his feet onto the counter, sitting cross. “And lord Ponyboy why are you not wearing shoes?”