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A rare quiet had befallen the Curtis household.
Steve and Sodapop were the only ones there at the moment; Darry was working and Pony was . . . somewhere. Soda didn’t know where, but he wasn’t too worried anymore. He knew Pony was safe. The morning before, he’d seen his brothers hugging it out on the back porch. That meant Darry knew. And if Darry knew, he’d want to fix it, and when Darry really wanted anything, he’d make it happen. But Darry didn’t know about what Steve had said. And Soda wasn’t about to break his best friend’s trust by blabbing about his business to his older brother just because some death wish was too scary for him to handle.
So yeah, he had to do this on his own. No big deal. And maybe he wasn’t in the best state of mind for this, all frayed at the edges and sleep-deprived, but if Steve was in danger then he didn’t have time for Soda to get a full night’s rest. It had to happen, here and now, at the kitchen table in the middle of their day off.
Steve, on the other hand, was absolutely ready to never talk about his feelings ever again. Once with Ponyboy was more than enough for him, but it seemed like his best friend had other plans for that day.
“Steve,” Soda said apprehensively, “What did you mean when you told me you got how Ponyboy felt?”
Oh. They were actually gonna have this conversation. Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“I didn’t mean nothin’ by-”
Soda slammed his hand on the table and stood up so fast it made him flinch.
“Like hell you didn’t mean nothin’ by it!” he shouted. Steve shrank back in his chair. Soda’s voice dropped dangerously low, each syllable shooting like a dagger into his adversary.
“I know what you look like when yer lyin’, Steve, don’t you fuckin’ act like I don’t. You were tellin’ me the truth. You understood what Ponyboy meant when he told you he wished he were dead, an’ now you’re gonna tell me why you think that way, or so help me I’m gonna make you do it.”
He could feel his chest tightening, his windpipe closing up, but he kept his breathing level. His dad hated it when he started hyperventilating.
“I don’t think that way, I swear it, I-”
Soda took a sudden, sharp breath and Steve reflexively flung his hands in front of his face, shutting his eyes. Shit. Shit! This wasn’t his dad, this was his best friend! He wanted to undo it. He wished he could hide it, but even as he drew his arms down as fast as he could Steve knew it was far too late. Soda had already seen it.
Suddenly, everything was silent. Sodapop looked like he was going to throw up. His mouth was sewn shut and he was forcing his gaze on the ground. He took three steps back, then the back of his knees hit the empty chair he’d left, which scraped the ground. Steve realized he still hadn’t moved. He couldn’t move. He could feel his heart trying to pound its way out of his chest, he could feel his hands trembling out of his control, but he just couldn’t move.
In the end, Soda broke the stalemate first. Without another word, without even a glance at Steve, he walked out the front door. He left. Steve was reminded of the time a few months ago when Darry had sent Soda to Two-Bit’s house, afraid to say the quiet part out loud. But Soda didn’t hit. He’d never hit. And Soda wouldn’t leave just because he was overwhelmed, which meant- oh no. No, no no no.
Sodapop was bringing in the cavalry.
Steve wanted to run. He was begging himself to just get his ass up and run, but he still couldn’t move. Now that he was alone, his subconscious couldn’t find a reason not to hyperventilate, so now his breathing was picking up and he quickly started to wheeze. He couldn’t fucking move.
When he and Ponyboy arrived, Soda didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disgusted with himself. He knew his best friend. He knew not to slam on tables or scream around him or act like his father. He knew that, but he did it anyway, because through and through Sodapop Curtis was an idiot. He was an idiot, but he at least knew he wasn’t wanted here. He would only make things worse. He knew that much, so he left while his little brother cleaned up the mess he made of things.
It wasn’t until far longer than Sodapop would have ever wanted it to be that Pony came out onto the front porch, where he was camped out.
“He’s okay,” he said before Soda could ask, “He wants to talk to you.”
Soda nodded, standing up and hugging his brother.
“Thank you,” he whispered before pulling away and entering the house.
Steve was on the couch now, looking like he didn’t know what to do with his body. His hands were clasped together and his shoulders were tense. He was looking at the ground as though there was something interesting there and not a completely normal piece of flooring.
“Hey,” Soda said, coming to a stop a few feet away from him. He didn’t comment on how Steve’s eyes were red. His best friend didn’t need a reminder of what he’d done to him.
“Hey,” he said back.
“ . . . I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Soda sighed.
“It’s not.”
Steve looked up at him.
“I know that you don’t like gettin’ yelled at. It ain’t right of me to ignore something like that. An’ especially not when I’m askin’ you to talk about . . . that. I’m sorry. It ain’t right.”
Sodapop could feel waterweight accumulating on his lower eyelids as his vision blurred.
“I get it,” Steve said, which was the last thing Soda expected to hear. “When you hear somethin’ like that, that someone wants to die, it’s . . . it’s scary. And when you’re scared the first thing you do sometimes is the one thing you’d never do otherwise. It’s why Pony told me, I think. He ain’t never talked to me like that before.”
Steve patted the spot beside him. Soda took the hint and sat down.
“I was scared,” he admitted, “I was scared because I don’t want you to die like Dally did. An’ I guess I realized that I ain’t gotten around to tellin’ you how important you are to me yet. I can’t lose someone else. It’s like how Darry was with Pony before all that shit happened. He got so scared that he couldn’t do anythin’ but yell about it. I still shouldn’t’a done it. I’m sorry.”
“Soda.” Steve put an arm around his shoulder. “There are lotsa things that I wish had happened differently. I don’t always know if it shoulda been me or not. But you gotta be a damned fool if you think I’m gonna up and leave ya like that. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. And for Christ’s sake, stop sayin’ sorry. It’s fine. You ain’t my dad an’ we both know it.”
He finally let the tears fall freely.
“Good lord,” Steve laughed, “You’ll never stop earning the title of bawl baby, huh?”
“Shut up,” Soda said back, but he didn’t mean it.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Steve told him.
“Yeah.”
“We’re gonna get through it.”
“We will.”
So yeah, Sodapop had definitely gone about that the wrong way, but at least it had all ended with them working it out. Steve knew now how much he cared about him. And Soda knew that he would never lose his best friend to himself.
Things would, eventually, be okay.