My apartment was small, much smaller than the house I'd grown up in. It was just me and my cat that lived there though, so it wasn't like I needed a lot of space. I had a bedroom to myself and a smaller room across the hall that I used as an office. I did all my writing in there and kept most of my books in there, save for a neat stack on my nightstand of ones I hadn't even opened yet.

I remembered a time when I owned no books and couldn't even read. I was sixteen. Now, I'm nearing twenty-four. I still live in the same town, which hasn't really changed over the course of six years. Fortunately, I have.

While receiving my GED at college a few years back, my English professor had me write down what had been bothering me. After that little project, I discovered I actually really liked writing. Mr. Jones had told me I was a natural at it, even though I wasn't good at technical stuff, like grammar and spelling. He worked with me a lot on my writing, though, and since then, I've really gotten the hang of it. I've written some short stories and essays, a few of which have been published, and I even got halfway through a fictional novel before I scrapped it.

I never actually continued my college career because I wasn't sure what I wanted to do. Sure I could have just done my gen eds, but I had other things I'd rather have done. I was fortunate enough to have a nice office job at a Buick dealership and I made enough money to be able to support myself. It was a good thing, too, especially after the sudden passing of Arnie, my biological father.

With both of my parents gone now and my younger kid siblings living across the country with my maternal grandparents, I was all on my own. Not that I minded too much. I had made a few friends at school and we got together every so often for a drink down at the Dingo. And, after I found Whiskey, this pathetic thing of a tomcat, I was pretty much just living my own life.

My cat, who was an asshole, glared at me as I stepped through the front door. He immediately ran to sit by his bowl, letting me know it was nearly empty.

"I just fed you before I left," I told him. "I haven't even been gone more than forty-five minutes."

He just meowed and shoved his bowl my way.

"I'm not feeding you again until supper. Suck it up, buttercup," I said.

I set my shopping bags down on the counter, immediately starting to put away the cold stuff. My phone started ringing then, and I groaned. I didn't wanna talk to anyone today. I was feeling particularly moody-- mostly because of the grey, stormy sky outside-- and went to go pick up the phone.

"Hello?" I said.

There was a short pause before whoever on the other end finally spoke. "Candice Marshall?" they said.

Their voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't put a finger on who it was. "Uh, yeah, this is Candice. Who is this?"

"Candy!" someone else exclaimed, their voice sounding just as familiar as the other.

"Candy, this is Ponyboy Curtis," the voice said and I almost dropped the phone.

"Pony!" I exclaimed. "What-- is that really you?" It had been awhile since I'd talked to any of the Curtis'. Even though I'd grown up over at their place, our little gang kinda split up after we all started going about our own adult lives. Soda and Steve went off to Vietnam, Darry worked all the time, and Two-Bit had finally graduated and was working at some construction firm, or so I'd heard last time I'd talked to Darry. That was a good while ago, too.

"Yeah, it's me!"

"Holy shit, your voice got deep," I said.

"He's a real man now, Candy!" shouted the other voice, who I now recognized right away as being Two-Bit.

"Hey, Two! How's it hanging, buddy?" I asked.

There was some rustling and a shifting sound, indicating Two had probably taken the phone from Pony.

"I'm good, babe, how 'bout yerself?"

"Doing good!"

"Hey, kid, so we're having a little reunion over here at the Curtis'. Steve and Sodapop are coming home today. Darry actually just went to pick them two up. But we were gonna have a small party over here. Not a lotta people, but our old gang, ya know. And I thought about you and how much we'd all love to see you again!"

I felt my heart swell. "I'm touched, Two-Bit," I said with a wide smile. "I'll be over later. What time y'all want me to head?"

"Six?" Two's voice was far now, so I took it he was probably asking Ponyboy. "Yeah, six's fine."

"Alright, I'll see you then," I said.

"Bye, Candy Cane!"

"Bye, Two!" I hung up the phone. I hadn't realized I was starting to bawl until I felt the hot tears start to roll down my face. "Oh, shit," I sighed, running a hand through my messy hair.

I got back to putting away groceries, Whiskey winding himself around my legs the whole time. Finally, I gave in and just fed him.

"Don't complain to me if you get fat. It's your own damn fault," I told him, but he didn't seem to care. He was content with a full bowl of food now and made his way over to the sofa and hopped up onto it, making himself at home on top of one of my cushions. "You're absolutely ridiculous. I can't believe you made me pour that just so it wouldn't be empty."

Whiskey gave me a short meow before curling up and falling asleep.

I looked up at the clock on the wall. It was just after three-thirty now. I decided to go take a quick shower and change. I knew the guys wouldn't care what I looked like, but I wasn't all for going over there looking like something out of The Twilight Zone. After showering, I headed down the hall to my room to find something decent to wear. I couldn't help but stare at the picture sitting behind a large stack of books-- a stack I'd bought a while back and hadn't ever put away. I picked up the frame and smiled at the eight faces giving ridiculous looks to the camera. I was laughing at Sodapop, who was pulling matching tongues-sticking-out faces with Steve. Two-Bit was looking cross-eyed at Darry, who was trying his best to either not laugh or punch Two right in the face. Johnny and Ponyboy were giggling, both of them shorter than the rest of us. And Dallas was looking the most serious out of all of us, but you could still see the glint of amusement in his eyes. The photo had been taken about seven or eight years ago. I knew this because Mr. or Mrs. Curtis had to have been the ones taking the photo. Even though they only had three kids, they treated the other five of us like their own before they passed away. I was never shown away whenever I turned up at their place.

Smiling now, I put the picture down and turned to find an outfit. I found a striped shirt and my favorite brown skirt. Underneath my skirt, I decided to wear some black tights, since it was a little chilly out. By the time I was finished getting dressed, it was only four-thirty. Since I had plenty of time, I did my makeup, something I'd only started doing recently. I swiped on some makeup and left my hair to dry on its own.

Once I was happy with how I looked, I decided on going across the street to the record store to look at the vinyls. I had a nice collection of them at home, but most of the time I just liked to look at them.

I pulled on my dad's old denim jacket and slipped into my white converse. My outfit didn't really match, but that was just my style, I guess.

The bell above the door chimed as I walked into the store. Davis, who owns the store, stood behind the counter, flipping through an auto magazine of some sort. He always liked to look at the kinds of cars that people on our side of town could only wish they had.

Davis looked up as I walked in.

"Hey, Candy," he greeted, his same monotonous voice sounding like he'd rather be dead in a ditch than be at the store.

"Hi, Davis," I replied.

I busied myself with looking at all the new records he'd gotten. When I was a kid, I was all about The King. Now, I was starting to get more into Pink Floyd's newer music.

"Hey, Candy," said Davis from behind me.

"Uh-huh?" I called, not turning around as I was checking out a John Lennon record.

"You got a boyfriend?" he asked. I made a face before turning to look at him.

"Why do you ask?"

Davis shrugged. "Dunno. Just thought you did for some reason."

"Oh," I said. "No. I don't have a boyfriend."

It was quiet after that. Davis turned back to his magazine and I went off to look at more records. Finally, I got bored and left. I looked down at my watch and was frustrated when I saw I'd barely wasted any time in there. It was only a quarter after five now. I guess I could show up a little early. It wasn't like they'd care. I made my way back across the street and got into my car. It was a little Bronco and started toward the Curtis'. When I got there, I noticed there were a couple cars in the driveway: Darry's truck and another one similar to his but a little more banged up, and a Plymouth, which I could only imagine to be Two-Bit's.

I parked behind the beat up truck and killed the ignition before getting out and making my way toward the front door. From the porch, I could hear a lot of talk and laughter going on inside. Two-Bit's loud voice boomed above everyone else's and I could even make out what sounded like Steve's crazy laugh. For some reason, I knocked. Then I realized how ridiculous that was, considering these guys were like my family, so I went ahead and welcomed myself in.

Everyone turned to see who it was as I entered. They were all quiet and, shit, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't.

"Well I'll be damned," said Darry. He looked just the same as the last time I'd seen him, except now he sported some well-maintained stubble on his chin. I was surprised to see the twenty-seven-year-old was finally looking his age.

Next to Darry stood a kid almost his height and I recognized him immediately as Ponyboy, but, damn, I didn't figure he'd ever grow to be so tall. He stood at least six foot, about Darry's height. Ponyboy, who was now twenty-one, had his arm around a pretty girl who was about my height. On her left hand, which held a glass of tea, was a tiny little diamond ring. Oh, man.

The loudest person in the room, Two-Bit, stood next to the fridge, probably going for a slice of chocolate cake or a beer. He looked just the same as well. Two-Bit was now twenty-five, but he still looked like his mischievous eighteen-year-old self.

Finally, at the table, each with a hand full of cards, sat Steve and Sodapop. They both were now twenty-four. They both looked exhausted but in good spirits. Sodapop was without a shirt and Steve had his army hat on backward. Both their dog tags hung from their necks and both of them had cigarettes hanging from their mouths.

The silence in the room remained for another couple seconds before Sodapop threw down his cards, pushed back his chair, and ran right up to me. He threw his arms around me, embracing me. I didn't hesitate to hug him back.

"Shit, I've missed you," he whispered to me lightly. I gave him a wobbly smile, my lips quivering up at him. He kissed me on the forehead.

"Well, damn, Soda!" Steve hollered. "You gonna hog her all night or are you gonna let the rest of us say hi, too?"

I laughed as Soda turned away from me. Holding my hand, we walked toward the kitchen so I could greet everyone. I hugged Steve next.

"I'm so glad you two idiots came home safe," I told them, both of them giving me a cheeky grin in response.

Two-Bit was next to greet me. He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me up, spinning me around.

"Two-Bit!" I screamed. He set me down, laughing his ass off.

"You look so different!" he shouted. "You got taller!"

"I'm not the only one who got taller," I said, pointing to Ponyboy. Everyone else let out a chuckle and Pony's face flushed slightly. I moved to give Ponyboy a hug next.

"Jee-zuss, Ponyboy!" I exclaimed. "It's so good to see you, buddy."

He returned the hug gratefully. He was still his awkward, shy self and that made me happy to see for some reason. After all this time, he hadn't really changed a bit.

Last, I turned to Darry, giving him a big hug, too. Darry had been like my older brother for a long time.

"So how you been, doll?" Two-Bit asked.

"I've been good. How about yourselves? I haven't seen y'all in so long."

"Six years is too damn long," Steve said. By now, his and Soda's card game had long been forgotten.

There was a pause as everyone just stared at me.

"So tell us what all you were upta," Darry said.

"Well, I got my GED," I said. "Most of you knew that I guess. Well, after that I decided not to go to college, but I got really into writing, and--"

"Oh, yeah, we know all about the writing!" said Two-Bit.

"Yeah, uh, it was actually Ponyboy that saw one of your short stories in a magazine and he showed us," said Darry.

"Darry was so proud he hung it up on the fridge!"

I moved toward the fridge to look and, sure enough, stuck to the fridge by a magnet was a short story I'd written a few years ago.

"I can't believe you kept that. Even though I haven't been around..."

"Hey, kiddo, you're still family. Just because we don't see each other don't mean we don't love each other."

I smiled at Darry. He was becoming more and more like his dad all the time.

"So, any boyfriends? Weddings? Kids?"

I almost laughed. "No, not really," I said. "I was engaged at one point, about a year and a half ago, but something happened and we just decided to break it off. I haven't dated since then.

"But I'm doing fine on my own now. I have a nice apartment, a good job, and I'm really happy..."

"That's great to hear," said Soda. His voice was really husky, much deeper and raspier than I ever remembered it. He put out his cigarette and immediately lit another.

"So, how about y'all?" I asked.

It was well after midnight when I decided I should go home. There was so much to catch up on, that each conversation led right into the next.

I found out that Ponyboy was getting married to a girl he started dating in his sophomore year of high school, Cathy. Ponyboy no longer lived at home, but instead had his own place with Cathy.

Darry had met a girl, too, and they were going steady, but they hadn't been together all that long. He actually had his own roofing company now and was doing well in business. The happiness that radiated off him was so contagious, I couldn't stop smiling whenever I looked at him.

Two-Bit didn't have a girl, but he claimed he was just happy on his own. He had his own place now as well and he worked at the same construction firm that Darry had told me about a while back. He was happy working and making good money.

Steve had broken up with Evie a long time ago. Him and Soda fought in the army together, in the same platoon, even. I was just happy they'd come home safe. I couldn't have dealt with the heartbreak if one of them had been killed.

Finally, Soda.... Soda seemed so different and I wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I knew war changed people and hardly ever for the better. I'd firsthand witnessed a man have a post-trauma episode at the Dingo not too long ago. He'd served in the marines. As his wife was apologizing to the barmaid, I heard her say, "he just hasn't been the same since he came home".

The thought nearly made me shudder. I couldn't imagine sweet Soda coming home and not being able to cope with reality and American norms again. I wasn't sure what all had happened in 'Nam because I did my best not to watch too much on TV. It always gave me heartache when I saw the news reports about how many we'd killed and how many of us had been killed. All I knew was that whatever happened over there really messed up a lot of people. I was just afraid Soda would end up suffering from post-trauma like that guy at the Dingo.