Wow, I was listening to Can I Call You Tonight? by Dayglow and I got so many ideas 👀

Sodapop's POV ✧
I was in awe with the sun, completely distracted at the stand before Steve bought me a Pepsi. He always loathed sunlight, especially when it came through the windows. Too bright? I always asked, pleasantly awake.

He was in a different mood today. But if I'm listing things here, I guess that one morning before work was mostly different on my part. Steve told me he was there for me, and each day, I felt like I was having deja vu. And suddenly, blood would rush to my face whenever it looked like Steve was trying to say something.

Some young ladies were walking down the block, and one girl stopped at the curb with her friend, who was fixing her shoestrings.

"Hey, wait up, Kate." she hollered.

One of them, a petite brunette, giggled. "Hi, Sodapop,"

"Afternoon," I answered, drawing my eyes over politely. Darry always told me that sometimes if you weren't looking at a girl's face when she was talking, she would assume you had no respect. I wonder where he got that from. "How are you girls?"

"Just going out to study," the brunette's friend began. She seemed like she was the type to keep to herself, sounding a tad mature, the very opposite of Kate. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing much," I responded. "What can I do for you ladies today?"

Apparently their grades weren't doing so smooth and they needed a tutor. I felt a little selfish for a moment. I had lost nearly all familiarity with grades and teaching. This sounded foreign. How would I weigh whether I should get wrapped up in this or not? School was not my best suit, let alone tutoring.

"Hello," Steve chimed in warmly, almost in Two-Bit's voice. "Is there a farmer's market today? I've never seen so many gals on one block before."

"No," I murmured, feeling a small laugh rise in my chest. "These girls are looking for a tutor."

"Like a, uh a study buddy?" he perked up. "Isn't that what they're called?"

There was nothing but silence ringing for miles. Maybe school wasn't his best suit either. My hope was leaking out.

The girls smiled perplexedly, touching their hair, swaying back and forth, but I couldn't tell what it was. Was Steve a turn-off to them? I surely wanted to laugh.

The girls peeked between each other, chatting for a few seconds. "You got a name, hombre?" asked Kate.

"Yes ma'am, my name's Steve." he shook her hand firmly, not seemingly intimidating.

"If it's fine by you, I'm Kate." the brunette said. "My friend here is Rosemary."

Steve lit up like a kid on Christmas. "Like Rosemary Clooney?"

There was a pause before Rosemary mustered up a squint, "I'm sorry?" You could see it in her eyes aside from the sassy tone; she felt peculiar. She probably thought Steve said it to make her feel dumb. It's a quality I've noticed in girls Steve talks to...not that I keep track.

"Rosemary Clooney, oh you know, big jazz title in the '50s." Steve was overjoyed. "Maybe you heard o' Frank Sinatra or Doris Day, huh?"

The girls shook their heads. I can't imagine how it'd feel to not relate to a fella like Steve...with a few exceptions. The guy was so unhinged and unafraid.

"If it ain't an issue, how old are you ladies anyhow?" I wondered, searching for a look of simplicity on their faces.

"14." Kate answered.

"13," Rosemary replied.

"Oh, Soda's little brother, Ponyboy is your age." Steve added, a look of pride over him. "Same type of maturity too." he chuckled.

"Ponyboy. What an interesting name." Kate giggled. The reaction was normal.

"It's very unique." Rosemary nodded. "And why do they call you Sodapop?" she turned her deep eyes to me. I was being watched by a hawk with eyes of seriousness.

"It's his real name. Says exactly that on his birth certificate." Steve saved.

"Yup." I smiled softly, trying to take a subtle yawn into my palm.

"Do you boys happen to have a telephone nearby?" Rosemary glanced around.

"Yes, ma'am." Steve showed them to the telephone post.

He returned as fast as he could, chugging the rest of his Pepsi, with somewhat of a flushed look as he leaned against the counter. I sat over the counter, admiring the soft glow of light between us.

I was going to suggest that we walk the girls home, but Steve was dismayed. "I wouldn't be so worried if they knew who Rosemary Clooney was."

Steve was no rambler, but I was listening anyway. I never meant to judge, not Steve, not anyone. It wasn't in my nature to judge someone before getting to know them.

"Big deal." I laughed, remembering Steve's lasting impression. "Sometimes people will warm up to you when they ask for help. It'll happen, but only if you let it."

"That's a pretty un-idiotic thing to say. What have you been reading?" Steve backed with a cocky smile.

"I haven't read anything. Pony fell asleep early last night, so there wasn't much to do with the lights off. Though, I squeezed in a couple of hours to sleep." I took a small yawn, "But this is not the first time, can you believe it?" I gave a small pat on his shoulder, slowly leaning my head over Steve's arm.

He didn't move, at least while my eyes were closed. "I'm getting better at falling asleep...it seems." I murmured, hardly expecting him to catch my words.

"Oh..." Steve gave lightly above a whisper. "There, there..." he said. I had an urge to laugh.

My subconscious was coming up, and I was half-asleep. I felt weightless, as uncomfortable as my posture might have been.

I recalled Steve's voice then, as clear as day in my head, ringing. "Don't hurt yourself now..." Then, a hold of warmth around my neck, like a blanket, or the silver lining in a storm. It might have been his arm in such a place to hold me up, to keep me from folding.

"How's the wind? Can you feel the sun?" Steve's voice was mellow, keeping me in place for as long as I could be there. He had something else to say in that single question, but forcing it would be the biggest mistake I could make.

"Yeah..." My lips moved as I was sliding out of this dream. I only remembered that I trusted Steve's eyes. They were the only eyes I had ever trusted.

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