I am not S..

Dally sits across from me on the floor, staring squint-eyed from behind his cards. The window behind him hangs open loosely and the breeze plays across my face, making me shiver.

"Three." I slide three cards from my hand towards him and he deals me three new ones.

"Remember when Johnny killed that Soc?" I ask suddenly, testing the waters. Words, built up for years, cling to the roof of my mouth begging to be let free. I've spent so much time biting my lips, covering my mouth with my hand, swallowing repeatedly to keep the words from spilling out. It's never a good time, I know that, but sometimes the pressure of all these unspoken words seems like too much. Sometimes I think that if I don't poke a little hole in this balloon that I've become, one day I'm just going to pop.

Dallas stiffens and put his cards down on the carpet, face up. His eyes are bleak, his mouth a chiseled line in stone across his face. Will it even open? My hand twitches slightly and I take a deep breath.

"Yeah."

We're both silent for a moment, calculating our cards, figuring out where we stand in this anti-conversation.

"I win," He finally says, gathering the cards up and handing the deck to me. I deal the cards out.

"You ever wonder what Johnny would be like now? You know, if he was still alive?" I know that's a push, but it just slipped out. The floodgates have slid open and if I don't get some of these questions out now, I'll snap. My eyelids are fluttering, faster and faster.

"Shoot, kid. What does it matter? Dead is dead," He says, picking up his cards again.

I nod and bite my lip. My hand is vibrating on the carpet.

"Dead is dead, but it don't mean he never lived, Dal," I say quietly after a moment.

"Two," he says, pulling two cards from his hand and putting them down on the carpet in front of me. I sigh and deal him out two more.

"'Course he lived, but he's dead now. Dead for nothing."

Dallas studies his cards intently, rubbing over the edge of one with his thumb. My arm is twitching, moving on its own. My breathing picks up.

"Not for nothing."

"Just those stupid little kids."

We lay our cards down.

"Sometimes I wish I had died with him," I say, my leg beginning to twitch. Dallas doesn't look up, just fingers his cards.

"Me too."

I gather up the cards as best I can, both my hands shaking now. I slide the deck to Dallas and he deals out a new hand.

"Sometimes I wish you hadn't stopped me from running out of that damn hospital, Ponyboy."

I just stare at my cards. I know.

"One," I finally say, but my hands and arms are shaking so hard now that I can barely slide my card towards him. He looks up and his eyes widen.

"Christ, not again," I see him moving towards me, but black closes in first.