Ponyboy's POV

Steve had stayed with me in my bed as I stared up at the ceiling, his arm underneath my head as we laid down in silence. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his chest moving up and down as he breathed quietly, his blue eyes shut. 

"Steve?" I asked, jostling him awake.

"Yeah, Pony?" he replied with a grumble, turning to face me. His skin was pale and smooth and I never realized how his raven colored hair contrasted against it so nicely.

"Why're you being so nice?" I mumbled. Steve looked down at his hands before sighing. I felt the tension in the room grow significantly as Steve sat quietly for a moment. 

"Just because I was always mean never meant that I didn't like you," he started slowly. "I- I was just j- jealous, I guess."

"Jealous? Of what?"

"You've always been loved, Pony. From the day you were born till now, you've been loved by someone unconditionally. Your parents. Your brothers. The gang. You've always had someone to love you and to hold you and to tell you everything would be alright. I never had that," Steve whispered. I suddenly felt ashamed.

I had never known Steve had felt this way- alone and abandoned. He didn't have anything good; two dead beat parents who hurt him frequently, no siblings and only the gang who were just a band of brothers trying to survive. 

"I've never had real love," Steve continued. "I've loved and loved and loved my whole life, desperately clinging to the idea that someone would love me back but its never come. I w- want that, more than anything. I'm just so j- jealous and s- spiteful, because even now Johnny loves you and you love Johnny,"

Steve's words pierced through my chest, my heartbeat increasing until it throbbed as it beat rapidly. A wave of sadness drowned me, my eyes turning wet at the mention of Johnny. 

"Actually, I don't think that Johnny and I are going to work out," I whispered quietly, putting my face in my hands. "H- him and Dallas... they're something, I- I guess, and Johnny decided to try b- being with him instead."

Steve got quiet suddenly, his frame appearing bigger as he looked down at me, the soft muscles showing underneath his thin black tshirt. 

"I'm sorry," was all he managed to say before taking one of my tear stained hands into his, rubbing circles on my bruised knuckles that were aching against his touch. "I'm so sorry."

In those moments I think I understood Steve better than I ever did. 

-

I let the scorching hot water poor over me until my skin turned pink and raw as I scrubbed furiously to try and get the dirt and grime off of my body. The smell of cinnamon took up the bathroom as I cleaned every last inch of myself, disgusted that I let myself get this bad. I didn't want to be miserable anymore and wallow in my heart break until my mind blurred into nothingness- I wanted to feel something again. 

Once I was done showering, I stepped out and looked at my long hair that reached the nape of my neck. My roots were outgrown and bits of golden blond hair tickled my skin, contrasting against the amber color on top. 

In that moment I decided I needed a haircut- something to signify that I was trying to cut the past, the past where I loved Johnny and he loved me, out of my life for good. 

"Darry!" I screamed loudly, hoping that he was still home. "Darry, come here! I need help!"

Seconds later Darry and Sodapop came barrelling into the bathroom, one after the other as we crowded into the small space. 

"What is it? What's wrong?" asked Darry pleadingly, looking at my body in nothing but a towel. I could tell he was analyzing my bony frame and the too pale skin but in that moment I couldn't care less. 

"Could you cut my hair?"

"What?"

"I said, 'Could you please cut my hair?'"

"You really yelled for us to come and scared the shit out of us just because you wanted a haircut?" yelled Soda, exasperation in his tone. "Jesus, Pony, we thought something was wrong!"

"Okay, well first of all I never called for you, I called for Darry," I said, mouthing off. "Second off, I've been feeling and looking like crap and I just want to cut my hair off so I can get rid of this ugly artificial blond color."

Darry sighed before putting a hand on his forehead like dad used to when he was still alive. I had never noticed how old Darry had gotten until this moment. The veins on his arms popped out against his skin and light lines were forming across his face from stress. 

If it wasn't for Soda and I, would Darry have gone to college? Would he have been married? What about children? Who would he be if mom and dad never died?

"Yeah, yeah, fine. I'll cut your hair," said Darry, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Just go get dressed and I'll cut it in the kitchen."

I beamed, excited for my hair to stop looking like a rats nest.

-

I heard the snip of the scissors behind my head as Darry cut locks of my hair off, the pieces pooling around the seat I was sitting in. My hair had gotten so long and unruly that I was glad that it was getting shorter.

"What're you guys doin'?" I heard behind me. The voice made my blood boil.

"Nothing, just giving Ponyboy a haircut," replied Darry as casual as ever. I rolled my eyes, furious that Johnny was in my kitchen.

"Don't you got someplace to be?" I snapped, turning around to meet Johnny in the eyes. They were dark, almost black and I could see him quiver underneath my stare. "I don't know, maybe with Dally?"

"N- no, I j- just wanted to stop by," stuttered Johnny, his speech problem suddenly coming back to the surface. "L- look, can we just talk?"

"No, I want you to leave," I said firmly. His eyes widened at my tone, realizing that I was serious. I didn't want someone to pretend to love me. 

"But Pony-," he begged. 

"Go!" I barked, cruelly. "You made your choice, so go deal with it!"

Johnny backed out of the room in silence, tears streaming down his face.

I felt my heart beat out of my chest out of sadness and frustration, but instead I plastered a fake smile on my face.