I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white, hoping that I can relieve some of my anxiety that way. I have to force myself to try and not think about anything as I take a few deep breaths. The effort it takes to try and not think about the memories that fuel a lot of my anxiety is distracting me from focusing on the task at hand which makes me even more nervous. My arms begin to shake and I force myself to put the key in the ignition, my heart revving when the engine does. I try and put the car in gear but don't push down the peddle enough and the engine roars loudly. My stomach clenches involuntarily.

That's almost enough to make me turn the car off and for me to get out right then and there but then I look over and see the stress lines etched into Cherry's forehead, even as she's sleeping, and I'm reminded that I did this to her. I'm the reason that Bob is dead, I'm the reason that she changed. Most people's first serious relationship is one that they think back on fondly as something special they shared with someone they loved. Cherry's first relationship had some issues but nothing could ever have prepared her to have her first love ripped away from her violently, nothing could have prepared her for the fact that it would be the reason she still cries herself to sleep sometimes. They didn't get to part ways like many teenagers who are young and in love but happened to be separated by different life paths do. The least I could do is give her a stupid ride home. I push down the brake and the clutch pedal as I shift the gearshift and when it slides into place I let out a sigh of relief. I slowly put my foot on the gas and drive the car away from the curb. I'm actually doing it.

I move at a snail's pace down the road, not wanting to lose focus on the task at hand. I try and multitask enough to remember the way home. Even though a small bead of sweat breaks out on my forehead because I'm so nervous, on the inside I'm swelling with pride and happiness. I just hope I don't get pulled over. I'm about a mile into the three-mile trip back, the sound of the rain dancing on the top of the car has sort of become soothing. I pump the breaks like Darry and Soda taught me and glide to a stop before a stop sign. If only they could see me now. I look both ways and am about to drive across the intersection when a car comes barreling around the turn behind me. They realize that I'm here and lay on the horn, snapping me out of my frozen with fear state. I throw the car into any gear and slam my foot on the gas. I just barely move in time before the other car makes a wild right turn, tearing off down the dirt path. Just two seconds ago that would've been us and they would've slammed into the back of our car. My breath catches in my chest and as I try and pull the car to the side of the road, it stalls and shudders to a stop.

I fumble for the door handle and push my way outside, gasping for air. The rain pours over me, soaking my shirt through in fifteen seconds. I lean over the embankment on the side of the road and put my hands on my knees. I feel like I'm going to be sick. That was too close for comfort. I try and concentrate on something else and after two minutes I'm able to breathe normally only after I thought of a way to get home without having to get in that stupid car again. Well, it looks like we're walking.

…

For the first half mile, I was able to carry Cherry with no problems but my arms began to give out and I couldn't keep going like that for much longer. It's so cold and the rain continues to bite into my skin but I covered Cherry with the blanket and tried to turn her head to my chest so her face wouldn't get drenched. For the last mile and a half, I alternated between carrying her bridal style and carrying her over my shoulder. Each dip in the road or slight misstep caused her to shift and every small movement she made made me feel like a mailbox post that someone was hammering into the ground. I swear I could feel my spine compressing.

I decided not to even bother trying to walk her all the way home, my house was closer. I finally, after what felt like hours of me struggling and shivering, made it to my street and I was six houses away from mine. My eyes were locked on my house and I was too distracted to notice a pot hole in the road. I snagged my foot in it and rolled my ankle. "Shit!" I yell as I trip and slam into the ground knees first. Cherry is jostled awake as she clings to my shoulders and falls forward. Today is really not my day.

"Ponyboy? What the hell is going on? Where are we?" She asks, rubbing her eyes in confusion as she pulls the now soaking wet blanket tighter around her.

"We're almost to my house. I freaked out and couldn't drive you home so I walked you back." I say, hissing in pain as I sit back on my heels and then sit on the ground as try and extend my legs. One knee is bleeding pretty bad but the second the rain touches any blood, it turns pink and drips onto the ground. The other one is starting to bruise and my ankle is already starting to swell.

"Ponyboy, you didn't have to do that!" she says groggily.

"I wasn't just going to leave you there!" I yell, flinching as I try and stand up. I offer her a hand. "C'mon let's get out of this rain." I say as I help her to her feet. She sways a little bit but wraps her arm around me.

"Let me help you home now, look at you. What a mess we are." Cherry says, giggling a little. I would've laughed too if everything didn't hurt so bad. "We'll get there, I'll teach you how to drive whenever you want. I really owe you one. I owe you a few ones actually."

"Thanks." I say quietly, realizing that Cherry has her flaws and I have mine but even though there was an easy, drier way to get here she was patient and never got upset that I had to leave her tuff car in a random place, that she was now walking home in a relentless rain storm, and I wasn't upset that I spent my afternoon picking her up from a dodgy place because we're friends. We've gotten closer these past few years. We've learned to help each other through the lows and I think Cherry might be the perfect person to help me through this too.