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The room looks emptier than it has been in years. In the back corner sits a collection of boxes, all of which now contain various items that have made the last edition of the college list. As each day passes, the shelves grow barren as his brother’s life is slowly packed away behind cardboard and tape.
Soda knows that Pony is equally excited and terrified for what lies ahead next week and seems absolutely set on making the most of the final days before his departure. Most of them where he and Darry work are spent driving around the streets of Tulsa with his friends as if seeing the familiar roads for the very first time.
That Ford Mainline had really been Steve’s idea. After all, his best friend had been the one to see it on the roadside for sale, a rusted carcass of a car, and convince the previous owner to let him have it for twenty dollars. Perhaps it’d been decided that Soda needed something to keep him busy rather than think about what’s coming. Somehow though, he thinks that it’s the easiest way for the older boy to show how much he’s going to miss Pony once he’s gone. Steve’s never been one for words, after all.
It’s been two hours since Soda went to bed with the intentions of an early night, but it seems that the universe has other plans, because sleep is completely lost on him. Maybe it’s the empty space beside him, or the sight of that damn near naked desk, but all that he can think about is how much everything’s about to change.
Pony has always been this beacon of hope for them. Softer than what they were raised to be, despite Fate’s best intentions to shoot him down. The kid always had a real chance of getting outta here; some hope that one of them counted for something.
The first letter had arrived in February, another three shortly after.
It’s nearly midnight by the time Pony comes in from wherever he’s been, the screen closing quietly heralding his arrival back home. Soda has long since given up on any fantasy of sleep, and pushes himself into a seated position just as the younger boy comes half-stumbling through the bedroom door.
“Where’ve you been, kid?” Soda smiles gently, pulling the covers aside so that Pony can get in once he’s changed.
His brother grins, swaying minutely from side to side. “Drinks with some of the guys from my track team. Thought we’d all hang out since most of us got into different colleges. Harry’s gonna be at Oklahoma, though! I like Harry. I hope we stay friends.”
Soda pinches the bridge of his nose, “did you drive back like this?”
For all that it’s acceptable to get behind the wheel after a few, he hates the thought of what could happen if his brother loses control of the car.
“Yeah,” Pony shrugs as he changes into a night-shirt, “but I stopped drinkin’ a while ago.”
“Is that why you fell when you walked through the door?”
“I didn’t fall,” his brother cries indignantly as he throws himself down on the bed, “I tripped.”
“Sure,” he grins lightly, “maybe drink some water before you sleep though.”
Pony chooses to ignore the advice, instead making a point of moving closer, resting his head on Soda’s shoulder. “I’ll be fine. I wanna stay here.”
He rolls his eyes at the younger boy’s drunken antics. Reaching over to turn off the lamp, Soda throws his arm around his brother. “Kid, I don’t wanna hear nothin’ about your headache tomorrow, alright?”
There’s peaceful silence for about two minutes, and he thinks that Pony’s fallen asleep until, “Soda?”
“Hm?” he tries to keep any tiredness or impatience out of his voice, “you alright?”
The other boy presses closer to him if possible. “I’m gonna miss sleepin’ in the same room. I’m real glad you never moved back to the spare.”
Well, that hits harder than it needs to. Soda’s always cried far easier than he’d care to admit, but as the tears threaten to burn, he forces them to retreat. “Close your eyes, honey.”
He doesn’t get much rest that night.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s up, or do I have to keep guessin’?” Steve sighs, placing the wrench on the roof of the car they’re working on.
His friend is some sort of damn saint for putting up with him at work today. Soda knows full well that he hasn’t been the most pleasant company, snapping more than once at a completely reasonable question. Still, he can hardly sit there and say ‘I don’t want my brother to leave’ without sounding ten years younger than his age.
Of course, a decade and a half of friendship has to count for something, and Steve knows him better than he knows himself. “Look, Soda, Ponyboy’s gonna come back. I’ll bet he’ll be home every other weekend.”
Soda shrugs half-heartedly, glaring at the open car bonnet. “It’s just gonna be quiet without him, y’know? He’s never been away from home for that long before.”
He knows he sounds like a child; twenty years old and admitting that he’s wrecked to see his younger brother go.
“I remember when he used to follow ‘round after us,” Steve grins as he reaches for the screwdriver, “God, I hated it so much. He’s not dying, y’know. He’ll just be a little farther away than normal.”
There’s truth in the words, because they have lost people. In a cemetery a few blocks away is the grave holding his parents, as well as that of friends who died far sooner than what was fair. Pony’s hardly joining them.
“Hey, y’know he’s never really fit in with us,” Steve’s voice grows gentler, and when Soda goes to defend his brother just as always, he holds up a hand to stop him. “No, not like that. Sodapop, the kid’s been headin’ towards bigger things since he could walk on his own damn legs. There’s a whole world out there waitin’ for him, and y’know what, I think he’s got a real chance of changin’ it.”
Unbiddenly, Soda feels his throat tighten as tears begin to burn in his eyes, and he turns from his friend to hide them. Ignoring the motor oil and grease smeared all over his fingers, he attempts to discretely brush them away. It feels selfish to be crying over something that he’s so excited for; this chance for his little brother to finally become the scholar and track star that Tulsa just can’t make him.
“I know all that,” he whispers, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice, “still hurts that he’s leavin’.”
Steve sighs, placing down the spanner and wiping his hands on a rag. He walks over and slips his arm around his shoulder. “God knows you’re allowed to be, kid.”
“Stop callin’ me kid,” Soda grumbles, although he accepts the long-standing jest, “you’re barely six months older.”
“Nah, it drives you mental,” his friend grins, before developing a more somber expression, “believe it or not, everyone’s a bit torn up with it. Hell, I’d never thought there’d be a day where I’d dread the thought of Ponyboy Curtis gettin’ outta my hair. But Soda, he’s growin’ up, and we’ve gotta let him.”
And ain’t there truth in that.
When Sodapop finally arrives home after what feels like the longest shift ever endured, it’s beginning to approach sunset, a golden hue extending over their street. Each step feels heavier than the last, and when he walks through the door, all that he can think about is throwing himself down on the sofa and never getting up again.
His master plan, however, is thwarted by the fact that he finds it already occupied by Pony. His younger brother is fast asleep, curled up on his side with a novel flat open next to him on the floor. He looks far younger than his age like this; every worry that’s permanently etched into his face seemingly vanishing. There’s no tragedy in this version of him.
Whatever irritation Soda had previously felt melts away and is replaced by the familiar and overwhelming love that he has for this kid. Tentatively, he reaches out and tucks away the strands of fringe that have fallen into his eyes as he rests.
The movement causes Pony to stir, his brother shifting slightly as he yawns. “Did I fall asleep?”
“Uh-huh,” Soda grins, “must’ve been all those drinks from last night. Is Darry still at work?”
Pony shoots him a targeted glare for his first remark before responding. “Yeah, should be back soon though. Said he had a shorter day.”
The younger boy glances outside to where the sun is slowly dimming, an absent sort of smile on his face. “It’s still light outside. Y’know what we should do?”
“What’s that?”
“D’you wanna get Darry’s old football and throw it ‘round before dark?” Pony grins, clearly bored of sitting around all day without much company.
And see, the truth is, Soda is positively exhausted. He’s been at the DX since sunrise with very little sleep the night before, and has never shared the love for sport that both of his brothers inherited from their father.
But Pony’s leaving soon, and while he can think of a few things he’d rather be doing, God, he’ll take advantage of every moment that he can.
That’s how they find themselves on the road outside their house, the same scarlet that has dressed the Tulsan sky for so many summers etched into the horizon. It’s one of those rare moments where Soda is completely drunk on happiness, feeling no older than twelve years old as he and Pony toss the ball to one another.
“Shit!” Pony laughs, as a particularly vicious throw results in the football landing on their roof with a dull thud. “Guess we’ll have to get the ladder.”
“We?” Soda cries out, “I like that! I think the word you’re looking for is you, kid. You’re the one who threw it!”
The younger boy sends a light shove his way as he walks past, but resentfully goes and drags the offending item from the back fence. He leans it expertly against the gutter before shaking it to test its stability.
“D’you think this is fine?” Pony asks tentatively, evidently refusing to look like an idiot but also not desiring a broken back. “It looks fine!”
“I can do it if you want,” Soda sighs, “better you in one piece than me.”
But the younger boy has never been one to swallow his pride, and he takes a hesitant step onto the bottom step of the ladder before hazardously climbing up. Soda holds his breath, keeping a stern eye on every movement. He’s never been able to stand seeing his brother at risk of harm, even for something as simple as climbing onto the roof.
Finally, Pony manages to move far enough along the top of their house to retrieve the ball, grinning triumphantly and waving it around as if Soda isn’t standing right there. Of course, fate has never been their biggest fan, and so it’s at that moment that Darry’s truck pulls up their avenue.
“Ponyboy,” Darry schools his expression, the same one that used to appear when their younger brother hadn’t done his homework or was home after curfew. “Why are you standing on the roof?”
“Football got stuck,” Soda replies lamely, as if it isn’t the most obvious thing in the entire world.
In retaliation, Pony decides that the best course of action is to throw the said football at Darry’s head, and in doing so, almost loses his balance, throwing out his hands to catch himself.
“Jesus!” Darry all but runs beneath where the other boy is laughing as if he hadn’t nearly fallen off the house. “It’ll serve you right if you snap your leg a week before college! C’mon, get down from there.”
They hold the ladder steady as their brother gingerly climbs back onto solid ground, the youthful grin never leaving his face. “Join for a bit! It’s been ages, and there’s still a bit of light!”
Darry rolls his eyes, close to refusal, but seems to cave once he sees the entreating look. “Fine, let me change into better clothes.”
Under the setting sun, the three of them throw around the football as if it’s the last living testament to their childhood. It feels like they’re kids again, before they lost their parents and every hope that they had for their lives was dashed to pieces. Darry’s laughing as if there’s no crushing debt hanging over his head, and Pony’s eyes are aflame in a way they haven’t been in a while.
Soda can’t recall a time in recent months that he’s felt this content, and cardboard boxes in the hallway remain nothing but an absent thought.
The second cigarette sits deftly between his fingers, cheap tobacco clinging to the night air as he sits on the porch-step. Soda doesn’t smoke often; not in the way that Pony does with his pack or so a day..
It’s a wonder that he never lost his athletic ability with all that he partakes in it, but he knows it’s a pride point for the younger boy. After all, Darry almost always refused them in fear of lessening his own fitness. Still, whenever a pointed remark is thrown, Pony is quick to remind him that he finishes a lap of the track in nearly half the time it takes the other boy.
The screen door opens quietly, and Soda can tell that it’s his older brother simply by the way that it’s opened. It comes from years of observation; existing around each other for so long that he could go deaf and blind and still know when one of them enters the room.
Darry settles himself next to him, reaching for the cigarette and taking a small inhale before passing it back. “Penny for your thoughts?”
While even after all this time, Soda finds himself keeping up an appearance with Pony to protect his younger brother from any unnecessary worries, he’s never pretended with Darry. “I’m just gonna miss him like hell.”
Sighing, Darry pulls his knees up to his chest. “Yeah, it’s gonna be strange for a little while. But we both know he was never destined to stay here.”
“Neither were you,” Soda murmurs, regretting the words as soon as they pass from his lips.
A pained look flashes across the older boy’s expression, but it vanishes as quickly as it comes. Darry shrugs lightly. “Y’know we’ve gotta play the cards life deals us. I’ll forever thank God that Pony got the right ones.”
For one too many times since last night, Soda feels himself tearing up. “I’m just so worried it’s gonna change him, Darry. He’s gonna go to this fancy college and realise that there’s a whole world out there away from us, and God knows where that’ll take him. I know it’s senseless and all that, but just… I hate the thought of him leavin’ for good, y’know? Even if he deserves it."
He feels Darry slip a heavy arm around his shoulder, pulling him close against him. “You’ve gotta have more faith in him than that, Pepsi. If somethin’ was gonna change in him, it was gonna be years ago after Mom and Dad. Besides, it’s not like he’s goin’ away to Washington like he could have.”
“There is that,” Soda sighs, leaning against his brother, “I wonder why he didn’t take it. He told me it was the better college.”
“Well,” Darry’s voice is fond, “I think I got the answer to that one. Found him at the dining table at some early hour a few days ago. Poor kid was a bit upset about this whole leavin’ business. Anyway, we got chattin’, and I asked him why he picked Oklahoma in the end, ‘cause I thought he’d want to get as far away as possible from here.”
“What did he say?”
A fond smile dresses the older boy’s face. “That this way, it felt like everyone was just down the road. Same state and same borders. You know full well that Ponyboy’s just as scared of goin’ to college as we are of lettin’ him.”
Soda’s throat is tight with emotion, and he’s acutely aware of the tears rolling down his cheeks. “It’s just gonna be strange not havin’ him here at the end of every day. It’s like I took the last eighteen years for granted, Darry, and I’ve only noticed now that he’s not gonna be around all the damn time. You’d have thought I’d learned my lesson after everythin’ that happened in that church.”
“We've still got em, little buddy,” the older boy says gently, “sure, things are gonna be a little different now, but Pony’ll only be a few hours away. There’s not much stoppin’ us from driving there when we have a couple of days off between us.”
Silently, Soda takes a final drag of the cigarette, watching as the embers burn down to the filter.
Darry squeezes his shoulder gently before moving to stand up, holding out a hand to pull Soda to his feet. “C’mon, it's getting cold out here, and Pony’s fallen asleep on the sofa. If he wakes up stiff then it’ll become everyone’s problem.”
Soda rolls his eyes fondly. “That’s the second time today he’s done that.”
His older brother reaches out to gently wipe away the tear tracks. “We’re gonna be alright, kid.”
Taking a deep breath, Soda forces his face into a grin. “I know we will.”
It doesn’t fix much, but it’s a promise in its own right, and Darry has never been one to let him down, after all. Soda pushes the screen door open so that they can go and rouse their brother from his slumber.