Chapter Text
Soda's POV
The DX was normally my safe space. I mean, cars and work and distractions from my life outside the shop. But, God, it's not quite working today.
I didn't eat breakfast this morning, and forced myself to throw up last night's dinner. Maybe it meant a waste of Darry's great food, but if I ate it, the numbers on the scale would move up.
The obsession had started a few weeks ago, needed something I could control. Sandy left, the boys went missing, and the one thing I could control was that goddamn number. After the boys came back, I couldn't stop. I dont wanna lose my 'movie-star' looks, it's the one thing that people keep me around for.
I could feel it catching up to me as my brain was pulled in plenty of directions. Steve needed a tool. A car needed oil. A customer needed someone at the register. The floor needed to be cleaned.
All at once, I needed to do all these things, but I couldn't just pick one and do the first. It's like my brain shut off and just froze.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder and flinched, even though it was only Steve. I look up at him and I need to look down right away so he doesn't see the way I look at him. Because it's wrong. Not allowed here in Tulsa. Not allowed among Greasers. At least as far as I know. I can't lose him, can't tell him, so it's easier to hide my feelings.
"You okay man? You look sick." Steve says, worry in his voice in the way you feel for your closest friend.
"I'm just tired dude, I'm gonna go sit down for a minute." I answer, my voice not feeling like my own. My usual Sodapop smile is on my face, happy and perfect on the outside. I could never let them know what's really happening in my head, they'd think I'm broken or some shit. I'm part of the gang cause I'm happy all the time. If I don't do that, I'm not needed.
Steve just nods, still looking unsure. I head over to the break room, just to sit for a moment. The dizziness starts to hit again, that feeling I always get after not eating for a while. It normally feels like success to me, but today it feels different. Too harsh.
The lights of the DX start to blur. Damn, get your shit together Sodapop. I need to get up. I need to go help Steve with customers. I need to smile. I can't mess up now. If I do, they won't want me around.
I force myself up, using a shelf for support. I walk out to the register and help customers. I smile for the girls, joke with the guys. Each person that comes up gets the full happy-go-lucky Sodapop treatment.
By the time we need to close up, I'm nearly dead on my feet, but I'm still smiling. I crack jokes with Steve and I clean up the shop. Yeah, I can't focus fully, going between 4 tasks at once, and yeah I can barely stand straight, but I'm smiling.
I know that I'll go home, pretend to eat dinner, deal with Darry and Pony arguing, but at least for now, I'm with Steve. My best friend. The boy I love more than I ever loved Sandy. The boy I can't tell my deepest secrets to because he won't want me after.
Once I finish cleaning up, I meet Steve at his truck for a ride home. Normally, he already has the truck running, ready to get the fuck away from work. But now, he's sitting on the tailgate, not even close to reaching for the keys.
"Man, you alright? You normally are speeding out of this parking lot like a bat outta hell." I joke around, but I'm worried that he found out.
God, if he found out, he'd jump me here and now and beat the shit out of me. And I wouldn't fight back. I know I wouldn't. Then he'd tell the gang and Darry would kick me out. Pony would stop seeing me as a hero. The rest of em would jump me again for being wrong like this.
"We need to talk." Steve says in this cool, calm voice, and I freeze. Last time he sounded like that, he told me that Johnny and Pony were missing and suspected of murder. And before that, he used that voice to tell me that Sandy's baby wasn't mine, it was Bob Sheldon's.
I tug on my jeans, needing to keep my hands busy. This wouldn't be good. But I need to play it off like it is. I can't be worried over something like this, at least not noticeably. I'm Sodapop. The only time I showed something other than happy smiles was when my parents died and when Pony went missing.
"What's up, the truck broke or something?" I call casually, a light laugh on the end.
Jokes are what keep everything going right. Jokes help. Make jokes.
Steve shakes his head at the comment, real serious for the first time in his life. He looks over at me, real calm, and I'm frozen in place. Time just stops as I see his worried face. He may hide it, but I can read him real well.
"Man, somethings wrong with you. You cant ever focus anymore and you always look like you're on the verge of fucking collapsing. Like you can barely stand. What the hell is going on?"
God, I wasn't gonna tell him the truth. Not yet. But if he asked again, I know it'll come flooding out.
"Steve, relax. Everything is fine. Just a bit tired after the whole Pony situation. I'll be back to normal soon." I give him a lopsided grin, always the joker.
But I can tell he don't believe me. The way he leans forward a bit. How his fingers grip his keys tighter. How his face tightens out of worry.
"Sodapop, we've been friends long enough that I can read you. So don't lie to me again. What is happening?"
And with just those words, the dam breaks. I feel the floor fall from under me and suddenly I'm on the ground. Steve hurries to my side. I try to cover my face but I know he sees the tears. The broken part of me that was never supposed to be seen.
I feel an arm around my shoulder and flinch. I look up, thinking he might hit me. Thinking he saw the way I looked at him and realized it was time. But all I saw was pure panic.
"Coca-Cola, tell me everything" he whispers, using the nickname from when they were younger.
And just like that, everything spills:
"I can't focus on nothing anymore. Everytime I wanna do something I get distracted or I try to do a ton of things at once. And I haven't eaten, and when I do eat I throw it up cause I can't let myself gain weight. My body's the one thing I got control over, and if I lose my movie-star looks, what am I even good for?So I gotta tell joke so y'all don't notice because I don't wanna get kicked to the curb."
Steve freezes against me. Shit, now is where he decides I'm too much. I'm too dramatic. He'll leave and tell the gang how I'm insane and none of em will want me around. I wait for him to move away. To pull back and leave before I break more. But he just stays.
"I can't tell Darry any of it cause he's already so stressed over the stupid bills. You and Two-bit and Dally and Johnny don't need my shit on top of your own lives. And I'm Pony's hero, I can't let him know I'm like this." I ramble on, tears still flowing, until I'm cut off.
I freeze at the feeling of something touching my lips. Steve. He kissed me. He gently pulls away.
"Soda, we ain't leaving you just cause you're hurting. Especially not me. You're my best friend. I'm not leaving you now." His voice is soft.
"Please don't tell Darry or anyone. About the focusing, about the eating. Please." I murmur.
He pauses, clearly unsure, but for now nods.
Now onto more important matters.
"You kissed me." I whisper.
He nods. "I've wanted to for a while."
"Me too. I thought I wasn't allowed to like you that way though. Isn't it like wrong? At least to most people? And ain't it like illegal or some shit?" I say quietly, starting to panic and spiral.
"Soda, relax. We both want each other. We don't gotta tell anyone and we won't get arrested. We got each other. Now let's get you home." Steve picks me up like a baby, not trusting me to be able to get myself up. He sets my in the truck gently, then gets on his side and starts it up.
"We're safe together. We'll figure out the rest tomorrow."