The Fox and the Flower

"Charlotte, what the hell!"

Talk about an alarm clock. Rubbing my eyes, I squint through the sunlight up at the idiot who thinks yelling is a great way to wake me up. But I can only make out their silhouette among the trees.

"Damn it, did you sleep out here!?"

That voice. I know that voice.

"Ponyboy?"

He doesn't say anything, but just sighs and sets something down in the leaves. I squint at the shape of it and it looks like an axe. Crouching down to my level, he brushes the hair away from my face and places the back of his hand against my forehead. I can see him very well now. His eye brows are furrowed and he looks anything but pleased. But in a way I'm kind of happy to see him. He's always been nice to me.

"C'mon, you need to go home."

He makes a move to help me up, but in my still dazed state I shrink away and shake my head.

"I don't want to go back." I grumble.

"I ain't givin' you an option. You're sick and you ain't diein' on me out here." His voice is blunt and to the point which tells me I'm not getting out of it.

Taking me by the arm, he pulls me up to my feet and I stumble some. Not exactly awake just yet. But Pony steadies me until I can stand on my own, then turns the other way and crouches to the ground.

"Get on."

Rubbing my eyes I just do what I'm told at this point and get on his back. Maybe if I was more awake I would've declined, but now something else is starting to catch up with me so I don't think that would be true. The minute Pony stands up off the ground is the minute I feel my head screaming at me for aspirin. When he starts walking, my world becomes a shaky up and down ride and I bury my face in his neck. If the ground and sky doesn't stop moving soon, I'm fairly certain I'll end up revisiting the last thing I ate. I try to distract myself from what I'm feeling and focus on things like how nice it'll be when I crawl into my bed or how warm he feels against my other wise chilled skin.

It's strange. Never in my life have I ever dreamed of someone treating me as nice as Pony does. Sure he's blunt sometimes and maybe doesn't pick up on things all that fast. Like that night when I grabbed his arm and he didn't even blink. But if you just hear the way he talks about his brothers and his friends or look at how he'll always help when you're in a tight spot, I think it's wonderful. More than wonderful, unheard of.

"Hey, Ponyboy." I say, my voice muffled.

"Yeah."

"Don't change."

His steps slow a little and I can tell by the way his voice comes out that I've surprised him. I dare to lift my head to see his expression, but can only see his cheek and the shadow of his eyelashes. God, they're long.

"What?"

"Don't change. I'm not repeating myself again."

My voice comes out very child-like and I can feel him chuckle a little underneath me.

"Okay, I wont." He says, like how a parent would to a child.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He continues walking at his normal pace and I find it in me to keep my head up. I hadn't realized how far I ran from the house until now. Pony's been walking for quite awhile and we're just now getting out of the woods. Man, I hope I'm not too heavy for him. The house is just now starting to come into view, but it's just a shadow on the horizon and God knows how long it's gonna take for us to get there.

"Uh, Pony, I can get off if you want. Ya know, if you're tiered or somethin'."

"Nah, I'm fine. You're actually lighter than I thought you'd be."

I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Now hold on tight."

"What? Wh-"

Before I can even finish my sentence he takes off at a sprint and I squeak in surprise. Hiding my face in his neck as the world starts to move again. But at the same time I'm also laughing and tighten my arms around him.

"Ponyboy!" I complain, but he just laughs and keeps running.

It's not long before we come up to the house, both of us smiling wide as Pony lets me down. Once he's standing and my feet are on the ground, I jab him in the arm lightly.

"You shouldn't run with a sick person on your back!" I say teasingly, crossing my arms.

"Sick person? You don't look all that sick to me. You just wanted me to feel bad so you could have a free ride!" He teases back, pretending to hold his arm like it really hurt.

"Charlotte?"

My smile quickly fades as I look towards the call of my name. There on the porch is Aunt Grace, bath robe on and coffee in hand. My heart sinks at the sight of her and I'm not sure if I should apologize or run. Her face is expressionless, almost like she either wasn't expecting to see me or she didn't want to see me. I suspect the latter.