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It had been collecting together over the past few days, the partially annoyed silence and how the silence wasn't comfortable anymore, rather more tense.
They avoided staring at each other, didn't make much physical affection, and the conversation were between being mildly passive aggressive or a casual "hi." Other than that, it could also include complaints about other people. It was far too abnormal for Ponyboy and Johnny, something they wouldn't act like. After all, they wouldn't talk with words, more emotions, but even then, that didn't happen at the moment as they behaved in these weird ways. It was weird when Johnny stayed over, actually agreeing with the rule to sleep on the couch instead of sharing the bed with Ponyboy for once. Darry and Sodapop were confused, since it had happened once but they did find their kid brother laying on top of his partner the next morning.
But that was a while ago.
Now, they sat at opposite ends of the couch at night when watching the television, when they'd usually be all over each other, whispering about things only they'd understand. Ponyboy now read books and wrote in his notebook, Johnny ignored him and talked to anyone but him. Dallas noticed every change and was sick of it, he had already seen them go through arguments before and they weren't fun, because he ended up in the middle of it to be a messenger. He hated being the messenger, because he had to deal with a hacked off and hormonal writer and then a nervous wreck that's alike to a puppy.
And that was the cue for the whole gang to realize the youngest of them all were in one of those weird argument phases. Not the one that involved hollering, but instead tense situations and avoided talking unless it was forced.
"So…" Sodapop started up one night as he got into bed beside his brother, grabbing a pillow and holding it close to him.
Ponyboy looked up from his journal and stared at him. "So what?" Monotone, slightly dead inside.
"Me and Dar noticed you and Johnnycakes aren't really talking, what's happenin' there?" Sodapop asked, looking at him with a worried expression. He had a right to worry— he didn't want to see his brother slowly start to get worse over a situation.
An annoyed sigh was the response as Ponyboy went back to writing. "It's none of your business, Soda, stay out of it. 'S between me and Johnny."
"Pony—"
"I said stay out of it." It was a sharp response, kind of like a snap, though not at the same time. "Sorry."
"You're fine."
The auburn-haired boy sighed and curled up as he continued scribbling down words. Sodapop watched him before sighing and turning over, covering himself with the bedsheets. "Turn off the lamp 'n' get to bed, you've got school."
"Okay," Ponyboy mumbled, closing his journal and putting it on his desk before turning off the light. It went dark in the room.
They were silent for a few minutes.
"Honey?"
"Mmm?"
"You know me and Darry love you no matter what, right?"
"Mhm."
"Just… wanted you to know again."
"Thanks, Soda."
Sodapop fell asleep soon after.
The journal was partially open on the desk the next morning and Sodapop read a small bit of it, partially because he was nosy.
…me and Johnny are going through a rough patch. He's upset at me cause I ain't talking to him about stuff. I'm upset at him because he's insisting on talking through stuff, even when I don't wanna.
I hope tomorrow is better. I'm going out with Dally and Johnny. Soda's trying to talk to me and about it, he sounds a bit like Johnny right now and it's annoying. I'm sick and tired of this back and forth me and Johnny have, why can't I just love him like a normal person?
-Ponyboy Curtis
"Oh, Glory," Sodapop mumbled under his breath before closing the journal, even if he found it open.
The trio sat in silence at the table in Dairy Queen. Johnny, holding an empty cup, was sat next to Dallas, Ponyboy across from them, silently sipping on the Pepsi he had. It was mildly uncomfortable. The drive over just had the older two sharing occasional sentences, but other than that, the youngest never spoke.
"Are y'all gonna talk—" Dallas started.
"Shut up." The other two said immediately.
The blond rolled his eyes. "Jesus, what's even the problem, man?" No response. "C'mon, one of you's gotta speak."
Ponyboy took a final sip. "We told you to shut your trap. That's speakin', ain't it?"
Johnny grimaced. "Can you not be a smartass?"
"Can you not be passive aggressive?" Ponyboy immediately shot back.
Dallas immediately interrupted before anything worsened. "Stop— just shut the fuck up, both of you. If y'all are just goin' ta argue, don't fuckin' speak." His tone was sharp. The other two didn't say anything else, going back to not looking at each other. "Jesus Christ, seriously!?"
"You told us not to speak, Dal," Johnny deadpanned.
Dallas took a deep breath and cussed under his breath as he put his head in his hands, muttering something about being too old for this. Ponyboy looked outside and stared at the cars in the parking lot, his leg bouncing under the table. Johnny looked out the same window for a moment, before looking down at the cup he still had in his hands.
It was tense. Still uncomfortable.
"Alright, get up, c'mon, we're speedin', and y'all are in the backseat," Dallas said a minute later, lightly kicking the ebony-haired greaser in the shins next to him to get him to move, then the boy across from him in the ankles. The other two scowled, but got up.
It took a while for the blond to convince them to get in the backseat together, having to use colourful words and what someone once jokingly said was his future "dad voice." He did not like the stern tone being called that, but it worked fairly well.
As they were driving back to the neighborhood they knew well, Dallas occasionally looked in the backseat and saw them whispering to each other. He started picking up on voices, Johnny was speaking first.
"…and we can be happy, 'cause this ends—"
"—when you want it to end."
"—when you talk to me about what's goin' on."
"No, I ain't tellin' you anything."
"Then we're stayin' like this."
"Fuck you."
Johnny rolled his eyes and slumped against the car door. Dallas turned his head back. "Ponyboy!" He hissed.
Ponyboy held up his hands. "What? What did I do?!" Dallas gestured at Johnny before turning around and focusing on the road. "You say swears more than me!"
"Ya don't swear at 'im! Why can't y'all just be polite?"
"Like you're one to talk," Johnny mumbled.
Dallas took an annoyed deep breath. "Johnny Cade." A raspberry was the response.
No more words were said for the rest of the drive, minus Ponyboy yelling at the blond to slow down. Dallas didn't.
"Intervention time!!" Two-Bit loudly sang as the door slammed open then shut too early into the morning.
"Keith!" Darry yelled from his room. "Close the damn door gently!"
Two-Bit ignored him and went into the kitchen to grab a beer where Ponyboy was making eggs on autopilot. "Hey, Ponykid!"
"Hi."
"Ooh, you're unhappy! Maybe not today!"
Ponyboy looked at him with a glare, watching him leave the kitchen. He sighed and went back to his eggs, stirring them around in the pan. You're unhappy echoed in his head. After a few minutes, he put the eggs on a plate. He got startled by the door opening and closing again, nervously looking at it and just seeing Steve, which was soon followed by Sodapop bolting out of the bedroom he shared with his brother. He went back to his breakfast.
"Soda's got shoes on for once and's ready for work on time!" Two-Bit called out as he sat down to watch Mickey Mouse.
"Monumental, tell the Pope," Ponyboy mumbled as he stared at an envelope, not sure why he was talking, "maybe he'll bless the day."
"What's gotten ya all in a mood, Pony?" Steve asked.
"Him and Johnny are fightin'," Sodapop answered instead, going over to the table and ruffling his brother's hair, which promptly got him elbowed in the ribs. "Ow!"
Darry walked out after that situation. "Y'all ready? Pepsi-Cola, you got your shoes?" He got a thumbs up. "Alright. Pony?"
Ponyboy looked over. "What's up?"
"You alright?"
"Mhm. Don't hurt yourself roofing."
Sodapop and Steve kept hitting each other's shoulders. Darry nodded. "Don't smoke more than a pack, alright? Two-Bit, you're babysitting. Steve, Soda, c'mon, quit fightin'. Get outside." Ponyboy turned back around and went back to eating his breakfast as the front door opened and closed again.
"Ponyboy, what-cha plannin' on doin' today?" Two-Bit asked.
"I don't know," Ponyboy mumbled after pulling his fork out of his mouth. He was chewing on the prongs for a bit, blankly staring at the plate.
"Can't sulk all day, kid."
"I can."
"Find the joy in life! Come watch Mickey."
Ponyboy looked over at Two-Bit and smiled gently before shaking his head. "''M alright, I've got stuff to catch up on, anyways."
Two-Bit didn't say anything as he nodded and went back to looking at the television, taking a sip from the bottle he was holding in his hands. They didn't have much conversation.
"Hold a jar with a rat in it over his face and demand 'im to talk to you," Dallas deadpanned as he hit Johnny over the head with a black licorice packet because he wouldn't move out of the way before pocketing it. "Worked on me, man." They were out at a store, just because he had found the younger greaser in the lot, looking like he was about to cry.
Johnny stared at the blond in mild horror as he moved on. "…No? This is not a move on and say man situation— where would I even get a rat?!"
"New York."
"Why would I go to New York?"
Dallas shrugged as they walked out the store. "Get yourself a new man."
"Why would I want— a— new partner?"
"'Cause your current one is a dick, man." He got jabbed sharply in the neck. "I ain't even lyin'."
Johnny stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. "You don't gotta be blunt about it. He ain't even that bad! He's just— goin' through somethin', and I'd like to give him space whilst it's happenin'."
Dallas turned around to walk backwards and face him. "But what's he goin' through?"
"I…"
"You don't know. Right. Jesus— do y'all ever even just talk or is it jus' bein' touchy 'n' shit?"
"We talk."
"'Bout what?"
Johnny didn't respond as Dallas turned around to face forward. "Why do you steal candy? I mean, it ain't really too expensive." He nervously balled up a piece of paper in his pockets.
"Aren't you so law-abiding? Lighten up, it's for the thrill." Dallas patted him on the back, ignoring the usual jumpiness that was there and the wince when he did that. "Look— I ain't carin' if it's a no or a yes, but are you doin' okay?"
"No," Johnny admitted quietly, forcing a smile, "but that's alright. We've been through worse, surely we'll be alright."
"Johnny, I'm not askin' if you and him are okay, 'm askin' about you, man."
"I'll live."
"That ain't a good answer."
"It's the only reason I'm still willin' to keep going, 'cause the other one isn't too happy."
They didn't say another word.
"That's cheating and you know it! Do you have an ace up your sleeve or somethin'?!" Sodapop exclaimed as he gestured at a red-in-the-face Two-Bit, laughing so much it was nearing wheezing, only because he had won the past few card games. They were sitting on the floor together. "Oh, my gosh— Ponyboy, isn't he cheating? He's won far too much!"
Ponyboy watched the conversation happen as he was in the middle of reading a book. He shook his head and went back to reading. He was on one end of the couch, knees halfway to his chest. It had been like this for the past few minutes, his brother getting frustrated when he wouldn't win a single game and making everyone else tell him to shut up or laugh. Johnny was on the other end of the couch, holding a plate with a half-way eaten chocolate cake slice.
They hadn't talked the whole night, even if someone else in their group tried to talk to them. Dallas wasn't there, so Johnny didn't go to him, Sodapop was busy accusing everyone of witchcraft, so Ponyboy couldn't hold a very long conversation with him. Maybe only a sentence, but even then that wasn't very helpful— they both had fairly short attention spans.
"Soda, when's Darry comin' home?" Ponyboy asked as he turned the page, glancing up at his partner who was poking at the cake with his fork, though quickly averted his eyes.
Two-Bit grinned as another hand of cards was passed out. "Aw, baby's first words!" He teased.
"I will throw this book in your face if you call me a baby."
"He should be comin' home soon," Sodapop said, shrugging as he straightened out a corner of a card that he accidentally bent. "Why?"
Ponyboy put his eyes onto the next page, rereading a paragraph. "Just want someone to talk to." Steve, who was sitting beside Sodapop, gestured at Johnny. "No."
"Hey, Johnnycakes, talk to Ponyboy!" Two-Bit suggested.
Johnny shook his head, taking one last bite of the cake. "It'll just be friendly insulting."
"Friendly?" Ponyboy tilted his head, looking up.
"Stop questioning everything I say, I'm just puttin' it nicely." Johnny's tone changed to a more annoyed one.
Sodapop quickly prevented Ponyboy from speaking by throwing a pillow at his face. "Let's not, please? I don't wanna be in between another argument. Plus— it's game night, please just remain chill! Serene, even if I don't know what it means." He got smacked in the back of the head with the pillow. "Use words, not violence."
Ponyboy looked back at his book. "Shut your trap. Just focus on winning a stupid card game." Sodapop grinned and suddenly got a card thrown at him by Steve.
Johnny got up and went into the kitchen to put his plate and fork in the sink. He was used to having someone trailing behind him, but not this time, because he went back to the couch and that same someone still sat, reading his book whilst everyone else was talking. He missed the days where he would lay with him whilst he read. Of course, being honest, that would happen again sometime soon.
Right?
It was halfway through the week and the end of the school day as Ponyboy sat in the hot classroom of some-sort-of-math, the numbers and letters and symbols jumbling around in his head as he stared at the paper on the table in front of him. The words from earlier as he stood in front of his locker from the boy he loved the most still repeated in his head and made him feel even worse than he had already felt.
"Can we talk afterschool?"
The way the conversation went just made him get that disgusting nauseous feeling.
"Why not now?"
"Not in the mood to see the waterworks. We're tough, we don't cry."
"I… Alright. That's fine."
"Alright. Don't panic too much, okay? You'll get yourself sick at some point."
"Mhm."
That was that. Probably the most words they had spoken to each other in the past week that weren't passive aggressive and instead more civil.
He had gone against what Johnny said and had been panicking for the whole day to the point where in science he left to go sob in the bathroom for a little while. It was due to a collective of things that had piled up over the week, not just over the conversation, no. He was only stressing and panicking over the conversation, but crying over something else, if that even made sense. He wrote in a back page of his notebook in art and tore it out, folding it up into his pocket so he could paste it into his journal later that night.
Today, Johnny told me he wanted to 'talk afterschool.' Obviously, that never goes down well, does it? Soda has heard that phrase from countless of girls, and he always seems to cry into his pillow after it.
I've never really gone through a relationship, sure I've had a few one week stuff with girls, but I don't really form an emotional attachment with them nor to them. This is Johnny we're talking about, we've been friends for so many years, I don't want all of that to go into the trash over a relationship! Look, the reason we're arguing isn't even my fault— it's partially his, too. He's been closed off. He says I'm hanging around the wrong crowd…
…and it was just rambling from there on.
"Curtis, focus!" His teacher called out. He glanced up before picking up his pen and going back to writing down. The guy next to him peered over and he used his arm to hide his paper.
Can we talk afterschool?
The bell rang. Ponyboy took a mentally grounding deep breath before getting up and collecting all of his stuff.
Not in the mood to see the waterworks.
He stuffed his pencil in his bag.
We're tough,
He said bye to his teacher on the way out,
we don't cry.
and he walked out into the hallway, merging in with the crowd of kids to the exit of the school, taking deep breaths. He could hear his breathing, the ringing in his ears, the way he immediately started to overthink everything. The way he started wishing they hadn't started arguing in the first place, the way he maybe even started regretting those words he spilled in the lot whilst sobbing, the first I love you and getting attached.
Don't panic too much,
Ponyboy Curtis felt stupid. He regretted not saying anything.
okay?
He saw Johnny standing by their usual meet up spot. He always got out of the school early. There was a soft, reassuring smile on his lips. The same lips that had pressed against auburn hair after he had nightmares and whispered the reassurances that it was just a dream and he'd be alright.
Ponyboy smiled back despite himself as he got over. "Hey."
They started walking, their hands brushing together. "Hi." Johnny pulled his hand away and stuffed it in his pocket.
"What'd you wanna talk 'bout?"
"Er— not here. I wanna at least get to the lot, somewhere safe, you dig?"
"Sure."
They didn't talk for the whole walk there. The younger moved his stuff from hand to hand, the older kept whispering and muttering under his breath, jumpy when a car went by. The silence was uncomfortable and tense, unlike what it had been for the past week.
Speaking of the past week, Ponyboy overthought every single decision he made during the week. The way he had made his tone far too sweet when Johnny called him out on some part of his bullshit.
They had both been doing something wrong to result in this. Both had been closed off. One of them hung around the wrong crowd, and the other one tried to make him do smart decisions.
They got to the corner of their street by the lot and moved towards a tree, the same tree they'd always lean against, and the same one Ponyboy would fall asleep on Johnny against.
"Can I say somethin', just real quick?" The former hesitantly said.
"Mhm."
"I'm sorry for— y'know— acting the way I did."
Johnny smiled. "Thank you for saying that. Uhm," he hesitated, looking around, "you're a nice kid, Pone, and I like you. A lot. More than a guy should like another guy."
Ponyboy smiled. "Likewise."
Johnny's smile turned a little somber and melancholic. "But, uh… I think we're just… not good as a couple together, with our own seperate problems and your— episodes that you sometimes get into 'n' how vastly different we can view the world sometimes," he took a deep breath. "Ponyboy, 'm sorry, but I want to break up. Neither of us are happy right now and… it's just a pain. I don't wanna deal with being unhappy. It ain't your fault, let me reassure you of that, but more of a mix. I'm sorry."
The mood immediately shifted, and the breeze flowing through the tree's leaves was the only sound. Ponyboy felt his eyes water. "Oh," he stupidly whispered, "that's… uh… that's fine if that's what you— uhm— want." His voice broke mid sentence.
"D'ya want space?"
"Yeah, uh, I-I'd like that."
Johnny nodded, looking around once more. "I do hope we can still remain what we were before."
Ponyboy blinked away a tear that was about to fall and nodded as well. "Sure. I'm…" he paused, staring down at the sidewalk as his vision blurred, "I'm gonna just— go now."
"Okay. Talk to me when you're ready," Johnny said gently, giving him the same smile from earlier.
The younger hesitated before turning around and heading towards home. He looked back and didn't see the other anymore, and that's when the tears started coming out. Ugly, violent sobs that made his cheeks feel like they were on fire.
He didn't know how fast he went or how he even got there, but he got home and ran towards his room, even when Sodapop was frantically asking him what happened. He also saw Darry out of the corner of his eye look up with a worried expression. He threw his stuff on the edge of the bed before sitting down and curling up in a ball as he cried, hugging his knees.
The tears wouldn't stop, no matter how much Ponyboy tried.
We're tough, we don't cry.
He pressed his forehead against his knees as someone knocked on the door, and it opened. He looked up and saw Sodapop, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and eyes full of gentle worry. Ponyboy immediately scrambled to get up, and before his brother could say his name, he wrapped him in a tight hug and cried into his shirt that would've usually smelt like cars, or whatever. They moved to sit on the bed again, Sodapop holding his little brother, similar to how their mom would hold him when he went through his first break up.
"Honey, what happened?" He asked gently.
"Johnny freaking— he broke up with me!" Ponyboy exclaimed tearfully as fingers ran through the ends of his hair to comfort him. Sobs raked through his body, and he held onto his brother tightly.
Sodapop frowned. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.
Darry walked over and stood by the doorway. "Is everythin' alright?" He asked, softening his voice. A loud, gut-wrenching sob came from their little brother after that. The middle brother shook his head. "What's wrong?"
"Him and Johnnycakes, they broke up."
"Shoot," Darry muttered, going over and sitting down beside the two.
"We were gettin' along just fine, 'n' he comes— hic— to my locker and tells me he wants to talk! That never goes well!" Ponyboy cried. "He breaks up with me by the lot and tells me he likes me a lot! Then why not try to stay with me!?"
Sodapop opened his mouth to say something but then closed it when he thought it through. He rocked his brother back and forth a gentle amount. "I know, me and Dar have been through it too, you'll be alright, honey," he tried to reassure him.
Ponyboy pulled away and wiped his eyes, sniffling and trying to breath. "'m so stupid, I could've— hic— stayed with him if we just talked, why is talking such a struggle?"
"You aren't stupid, it's a thing that happens, baby," Darry added onto the reassurance.
"A thing that shouldn't happen." He scrubbed his hand over his face again, still sniffling as he curled up in a ball between his brothers. "I thought we were gonna last. We were— we were perfect together, weren't we? We were good, real good!"
Sodapop shrugged. "Nobody's perfect, Pone. No relationship is, either, you'll get a lot of them. Some'll be good, some'll be bad."
"I know that!" Ponyboy accidentally snapped. "Just let me— oh, glory, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry," he sobbed heavier, more into his hands.
It happened after a few seconds, but there was soon a group hug, all three of them holding onto each other. They stayed like that for a while before the oldest got up to get dinner started whils the other two remained together, the youngest eventually crying himself to sleep, still holding onto the middle brother.
Johnny sat in the lot and stared at the sky as the sun started going down. He held his jacket in his lap. He sure didn't feel fine, he felt empty, as the temperature dropped and it got more chilly. He had cried a little, but he got over it because he just told himself it was a small thing that would pass on by.
He kept telling himself that as he wiped away a tear with the back of his hand.
He tried not to be too caught up.
He knew he loved Ponyboy. He loved him more than he'd like to admit, but regardless, things had to end. They loved each other equally, it was mutual, but it was still hard.
Neither of them were happy when they fought.
It just felt like a back-and-forth kinda thing at that point.
He inhaled and shakily exhaled as he pulled at a thread in his jacket, hesitating as his eyes burned, and then he curled up and let out a few tears, the orange of the sky reflecting on the grass. Tears fell and they didn't burn but still felt hot, as a tear ran over his cheek scar.
The days and week following the separation was hard. Ponyboy didn't show up at school for the rest of the week despite severely wanting to but being mentally unwell, and nobody saw him and Johnny together anymore.
Dallas found Johnny sitting out in the lot, curled up like a little kid, most of the time. He found out two days after the break up, and in a rare occasion, pulled the younger greaser into a hug and told him it all would be fine. Johnny tried to believe him, but all he did is nod and sniffle a few times. He didn't hear once comment about having to 'suck it up,' like he usually would hear, but instead the blond ruffled his hair when he tried to tease him about 'going soft.'
The next Monday, Johnny saw Ponyboy and they made eye contact very briefly before looking away. They had a class together, and it was awkward, since they sat next to each other. For the first time, they were silent and didn't have conversations, minus a quick exchange of 'hi's at the beginning. Other than that, they did their work and didn't talk unless they had to, which was never. Ponyboy wanted to cry the whole time, Johnny took deep breaths when his eyes watered.
When Two-Bit noticed he commented on the absence of the two hanging around each other and got promptly yelled at for pointing it out. He had to hear it from Dallas and looked at Ponyboy with sympathy, resulting in an eye roll.
It was Friday night when Ponyboy decided he wanted to talk again. He found Johnny in the lot and vaguely gestured with his hand that he wanted to walk and talk. It was a reluctant acceptance. They walked out of their neighborhood, down a path to a hill they once sat on with each other when there were shooting stars.
"Are… you doin' alright?" Ponyboy asked hesitantly.
Johnny shrugged. "Could be better. You?"
"Same here."
"I figured. You look tired."
"So do you."
Johnny laughed shortly before exhaling in a long way. Ponyboy hummed a laugh. They walked in silence, occasionally looking over their shoulders before finding the fence that blocked off the hill. The younger helped the older hop the fence first before hopping over it himself. They went up the hill before sitting down where there was a nice view of the stars near the top.
The auburn-haired greaser took a few deep breaths, mentally preparing himself. "Johnny, I wanted to— ugh, shoot. Soda tried to talk me out of this but I really do like you and… I just don't want to be apart from you 'cause it hurts. I think you hate me most days."
The black-haired greaser looked over, hugging his knees gently. "I don't hate you. I could never."
A soft smile appeared on Ponyboy's lips. "I want a happy ending with you, Johnnycakes. When I look back on my life, I want to think of the joy I had with you. Happy endings, not… sad, passive aggressive and emotionally wrecking ones." He looked over, tilting his head. "I know it's totally a bad idea but… would you wanna try again?"
Johnny smiled back. "Is there ever a happy ending for two greasers?" He asked quietly, almost like a nervous whisper.
They looked away from each other, and a few seconds later the older leaned over and put his head on the younger's shoulder. The latter tilted his head to put it on top of the former's.
The stars looked pretty and bright, but something ahead was dim and unpredictable.