A/N: Sorry I took so long to update. I totally forgot about this story! I'd intended the last chapter as a joke, and then I completely forgot to update. Yeah, this chapters a little short. It's kind of weird. It took hella long to write, and now that I look at it, it's quite...tiny.

Anyway, this chapter is crap. No, I'm not just saying that. This chapter really is crap...I mean it. It's pointless, it's stupid and out of character, and the dialogue is unrealistic. Which is probably the main reason the chapter sucks. The dialogue dominates the whole chapter, therefore the whole chapter is unrealistic. Really sorry about this chapter. I'll try to make the next one better, and I'll turn it back to the Ponyboy/Soda/Steve conflict.

If you don't like this one, just say so in your review. (I won't be mad, really. In fact, I'll understand.) If 5 people say they don't like it, I'll take that as my clue to totally rewrite chapter 3. Really, I don't mind if you say you don't like it. I would like constructive criticism, but if you just wanna say "don't like", that's okay too.


What the hell did I do that for? I just yelled at and shoved my best friend, the only person who even cares about me, and then destroyed his close bond with his brother, or at the very least got them into a fight. All because he asked me if I was okay. What the fuck is wrong with me!

I stalked out of the Curtis's house and down the sidewalk. I half-expected Darry to come after me and demand to know what I did. I could just imagine him screaming, "YOU MADE MY BROTHERS UPSET! YOU'RE GOING TO GET IT!"

Or maybe he'd understand. I don't know.

Suddenly I realized I was sprinting away from the Curtis's house, like a little kid running away from home or something. Damn it, Steve, you're such a coward.

For a while, I just paced around the neighborhood. I really didn't have anything to do, the auto place had given me the day off.

I hadn't really been paying attention to my surroundings. Suddenly I tripped, which jerked me back into the real world. I had tripped over something solid, yet soft. I picked myself up to look at it. It was a small puppy, so dirty that I couldn't even see the colour of it's fur or it's breed. Hell, it could have been a cat.

Just then, I saw Two-Bit's car pass me. I chased after him.

"Two-Bit! Two-Bit!"

Within a few seconds I caught up to him.

"Hey Steve." He grinned. "I'm just on my way to the Curtis's. What are you doing? Want a ride?"

"Shit." I groaned. "Can we go somewhere, anywhere but there?"

Two-Bit blinked, then shrugged. "Sure, get in."

That's why Two-Bit's tuff and cool: He doesn't ask questions or try to get into your business.

I glanced back. "Um...hold on, Two-Bit. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."


Why did I do it? I don't know, but for some reason, I dashed back to the animal and scooped it up. Angry and shocked, it bit me. My arm started bleeding and stung like hell, but I ignored it. I can handle a little pain.

With the animal in my arms, I walked gingerly towards Two-Bit's car. Must have looked like a goddamn girl, but the stupid beast started yelping every time I tried to run.

Two-Bit began snickering as soon as I slid into the car. I shot him a glare, but it didn't make a difference. Two-Bit and Soda are the only ones who are completely unaffected by my fierce look.

"What IS that thing?" He peered at it, then recoiled ,startled, when it moved.

"Holy shit, it's an animal!" His vigorous cackles both irritated and relaxed me.

"Damn it, Two-Bit! You're scaring him."

The creature did look very alarmed.

"Sorry." He reached out to stroke the animal, but again recoiled.

"The fucking thing is already jumpy!"

He pointed shakily towards my arm. "He bit you!"

I shrugged. "It's just some blood. Doesn't hurt much."

"You could be infected! It could have rabies!"

"Does it look like it has rabies? Damn it, Two-Bit, don't be neurotic."

"Fine. Don't blame me when you get rabies and die."

"It'd be pretty hard to blame you in that state."

There was a vague pause. Finally, Two bit spoke, in the softest voice I'd heard from him in years.

"Death sucks."

I glanced at him. Hopefully he wouldn't try to confide in me again. The day after Johnny and Dally's death, I had seen him, drunk and sobbing. He babbled some rubbish, I don't remember all of it. He said Johnny was like his little brother, but "more like a dead little brother", and Johnny and Dally were "Bambi's mother". When he mentioned that he wanted to leave and go back to Johnny and Dally, "would do anything to go back to them", I thought that might be implying suicide, so I gave him more and more alcohol until he passed out. I doubt he remembers, but sometimes it's hard to tell with Two-Bit.

"So..." Two-Bit continued, clearly trying to change the subject. "Where do you want to go? 'Anywhere' doesn't cut it."

"I don't know. I can't go back to my house-at least not until my dad decides I'm allowed back in." I rolled my eyes.

"My house?"

"Your mother hates me, and she's allergic to dogs."

"Damn bitch." Two Bit murmured. I knew he was only joking. Out of the whole gang, Two-Bit has the nicest parents. Wait, no. That's not true. The Curtis's do. Or used to, anyway...

I ran my fingers through the dog's matted, bristly fur. He snarled at me. Strangely enough, I felt an odd prick of excitement, amusement, and delight. Okay, am I crazy? I feel alive and gleeful just because a stray puppy is pissed at me. How messed up does it get?

"A boy and his dog." Two-Bit teased me. "What's it's name?"

"I'm not going to name it, dumbass."

"Well, of course not. Who names an animal 'Dumbass'?" My strange friend grinned, pleased with his idiotic wordplay.

He reached out to stroke the dog. Instead of becoming defensive, like it had been with me, the creature reluctantly accepted Two-Bit's attention. Again, I felt slightly pleased that it had singled me out to snarl at. Man, I'm so fucked up.

"You've got to give the little guy a name."

"Fine, how about Dumb-ass? Named after you."

I expected him to be suprised by that, at least a little, but Two-Bit just started laughing again. The puppy suddenly decided to leap on Two-Bit's lap and lick his mouth. Still giggling, Two-Bit attempted to push him off. It leaped onto the horn, then yelped with surprise when a loud honk ensued.

"He really is a dumb-ass."

"But he likes me!" Two-Bit gave me a toothy smirk.

"I rest my case."

"Hey, no offense, Steve..."

Here we go. That always means criticism or a lecture. Even one of the most rebellious of our gang, second only to Dally, was giving me advice now. Whoever invented the phrase "no offense" was a huge coward. Damn it, if I wanted people to tell me what to do, I'd get a stupid guidance counselor.

"You need to stop taking things so seriously."

I had planned to nod my head to whatever advice he had and then change the subject. I thought that would be the quickest way to shut him up. But this caught me so off-guard that the first words out of my mouth were, "What the fuck?"

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? But I think you just need to relax, you know?"

"Easy for you to say."

"What, so I don't have problems?" The words were angry, but Two-Bit's tone remained mild. "Just because I'm happy doesn't mean everything comes easy for me."

"I didn't mean.." Ugh. Now I was apologizing like a 12-year-old girl.

"When was the last time you felt really, really happy? Not the "okay" happy, the kind of happy where you feel invincible, like you will never feel sad again?"

"How can you feel like you'll never feel sad again? That's so dumb and completely illogical."

"You've never felt like that? Ever? Not even for a few minutes?"

"Can we talk about something else?" I did remember a time like that...but it was years ago, and I was hanging out with Sodapop. I really didn't want to discuss it with Two-Bit.

"Fine. But please think about what I said, it's important."

I privately rolled my eyes and forced myself not to hit Two-Bit. Instead, I gazed out the window, glaring at pedestrians. This was getting crazy. Over the course of about half an hour, I'd just lost my best friend, picked up a goddamn puppy, and had been patronized by someone who was wearing a freaking Mickey Mouse T-Shirt.

My life is weird.