Chapter Text
Forgive the formatting. Ao3 always does me dirty.
S.E. Hinton owns the Outsiders. Thanks Suzie.
Neon lights are rare now. Most 'neon' lights aren't actually Neon. They're just electric.
Chapter 1
Soda had never been the one to worry about. Yeah, sure, he got into scuffs, fights, drag races. He'd dropped out of school. He even had dealings with the Shepard gang. He hustled pool, played cards at speak-easys’ and clubs, but Soda was always okay. Soda knew how to take care of himself, and if he didn’t, he got out of there. He was always the one that was alright.
It seemed like the title for being the one to worry about went to me. Soda and Darry were always worried about me somehow. And even if I tried to stay out of trouble, trouble seemed to find me. But my brothers also always let me know how proud they were of me. How I was doing at school, and track. Soda was always saying I was the brains of the family. But Soda, Soda was the living, breathing heart of it.
Until he wasn’t.
Soda was the one who kept his cards close to his chest. He had good sense. He knew when something was trouble that wasn’t worth it. He knew how to stay out of it. It was like he had his own radar for staying out of trouble. He even had a kind of radar for keeping ME out of trouble too. I depended on that wisdom a lot. At least when he was near me.
If I wasn’t with Soda, anything could happen. I’ve never figured out completely, if that’s just me, not-using-my-head, like Darry says, or that I’m just some kind of magnet for trouble and it finds me. But when I was with Soda, I was always safe. I don't know what it is. I wonder if I’ll ever know. Yeah, Soda was always alright. Until he wasn’t.
*
It was Saturday night. Soda and I had finished work at the stable. Steve and Soda had gone out on the town, and I’d gone to the movies with Ryan, leaving his little sister, Ruby at home.
Ryan was happy to get out. His home life wasn’t always the best. His dad made life difficult for his entire family with his drinking, his violent behavior. So getting away was always welcome for Ryan.
We went to the Circle Cinema downtown, to see Bonnie and Clyde. I wanted to see it; I’d heard it was a really good movie. It was kind of controversial, and I wanted to see why. I’d seen pictures of the real Clyde Barrow and Bonnie Parker. They weren’t nearly as glamorous as these two movie stars. The real Bonnie and Clyde were little and kind of scrawny looking. Their escapades had even brought them into Oklahoma during their time. So, I was curious. But it was a good flick, and the ambush shoot-out at the end was really something. You had to be 18 to see it, but we had snuck in. Ryan and I were talking about it as we walked home.
“That shoot-out was really something,” Ryan said, looking excited. “What was that, over a minute long?”
I agreed that was one of the most impressive shoot-out scenes I’d ever seen. In fact, I’d never seen anything like that. I knew I’d be thinking about that movie for a while.
The Circle was a good distance from my neighborhood. It was down-town and a bit of a walk to get home. Most of the aggressive greaser stalking had phased out over the last couple of years or so. The social division had changed, because times were changing, and kids who used to dress up now were dressing down; looking like poor kids, only their 'poor clothes’ were designer clothes and expensive, while ours were still just what we could afford. We didn’t spend much money to be in ‘style’. The definition of irony, I guess.
Still, we kept a careful eye out as we walked the edges of downtown as we started home. There were still hoods who would roll you, whether you were a greaser or a soc. Businesses were shutting down at this hour and the streets were getting quieter. It was lonely here at night, but it still was occupied. It’s just that most of the occupation happened inside. Inside the restaurants, bars, the pool halls and clubs. The shops were starting to close up, the lights turning off. The neon signs of establishments catering to those who linger at night, stayed lit. There’s a particular glow to neon that plain old electric lights don’t have. Some kind of inner radiance that glows from them. I always liked the way they looked.
We were walking by a run-down bar with a Hamm’s sign in the window, when the door swung open fast and Soda and Steve stepped out. They were moving quickly, moving away from the bar, all but running. They were talking to each other in tense tones, but I couldn’t catch the words. They were walking away from us and hadn’t seen us. I could see Steve’s car parked up ahead half a block, sitting under a halo of streetlight.
“Hey! Soda! Fancy meeting you here!” I called out, grinning, and lifting my arm to wave. Soda turned around fast, almost like he was expecting an attack. He seemed surprised to find it was me, like he was expecting something else. His eyebrows scowled downwards.
Steve was frowning. “Shit, Ponyboy! What are you doing here?”
I stopped. So did Ryan.
“Well, damn, Steve. Howdy to you too.” I said.
Nothing like Steve to make me feel welcome. I knew Steve didn’t like a tag-a-long, but heck, I was just walking home.
“Oh, hey, Ponyboy,” Soda stepped forward. He put his arm around me shoulder and squeezed. “What are you doing here? This is no place for you to be hanging around, what are you doing here, this time of night?.” He looked at Ryan.
“Hey Ryan!”
“Hey,” said Ryan, uncertainly.
“We were just walking home is all.", I said. "Didn’t expect to run into you, you know? Everything alright?”
Soda looked at me. He grinned, but he seemed tense. He glanced towards the bar door, like he was expecting someone to come out of it.
“Sure, sure.” He switched tact. “Hey, how are you guys doin’?”
He shifted so that he was facing towards the bar.
“Fine. Soda. We just caught a movie. We’re heading home now.”
Soda’s frown pushed itself into a grin. I thought it seemed a little forced. He ran a hand through his still long hair, making a mess of it.
“A movie? Great? Why don’t you let us drive you home and you can tell me about it Okay?” He began steering me towards the car.
“You too, Ryan.”
Soda was pushing me along and when we reached the car, we climbed into the back seat. Steve was standing in front of the car, still glowering. Soda joined him there. They spoke in lowered voices that I couldn’t hear, with frequent glances back at the way they had come. But some words drifted to me.
“Steve, we gotta get them home….”
“Damnit! Soda, you know…….”
“Well, we can’t leave ‘em here! You know…”.
“Let’s just get them home! I’m not leaving my little brother out here in this!”
I glanced uneasily at Ryan. He raised his eyebrows, in question. I shrugged.
“Steve hates me.” I said, by way of explanation. Ryan grinned.
Steve nodded his head, but his expression didn’t change as he got behind the wheel. He said nothing. He started the car, it’s V-8 engine rumbling to life and pulled out into traffic. Soda twisted over the passenger seat and asked me questions about the movie. He agreed that the shoot-out sounded cool.
Steve kept checking the review mirror.
“Maybe I’ll see it, sometime.” Soda grinned.
I still felt like his mind was on something else, but he wasn’t telling me what it was.