The Fox and the Flower

The next morning I make sure I'm up bright and early before anyone else. I kinda of got Pony in some trouble last night with Darry for being out so late and bringin' me home on a school night, so you could say I felt pretty bad. That, and I'm a woman of my word, even if Pony hustled me. Apparently Darry's a real hard ass when it comes to Ponyboy and school, but I never see him get mad at Soda for nothin'. Even so, I can tell Darry cares for Pony a whole lot, he just has a strange way of going about it, that's all.

Ever so carefully I rise from the couch and tiptoe into the kitchen as quietly as I can. Not really knowing their kitchen all that well, I have to hunt around for some stuff before I actually begin cooking anything. It doesn't take too terribly long though, with the kitchen being so small everything's generally in the same place. Lighting up the stove I get to work and within about twenty minutes I've produced a plate of pancakes stacked high on the table. Mom and dad used be away from home quite a bit at work so this kind of thing is no big deal for me.

Taking two off the top of the stack for myself I sit down and start eating when the first of the three stumbles from the hallway. I don't know why, but I'm not all surprised that it's Darry. He strikes me as the parent figure for the house and my parents would always be up first 'cause they had work, so I guess I just clicked those two together. Only after going straight for the coffee pot does he see the pancakes and looks from me to them, putting two and two together in his still sleepy state. In that moment something in my mind compared him with a grizzly bear after hibernation and I suddenly became real aware of every movement I made. Like the slightest thing I did could possibly set him off and I'm starting to understand how Pony must feel sometimes.

"You made breakfast?"

Shoving another piece of pancake in my mouth I give a nod as a response and it's right about then that Sodapop comes into the living room. Scratching the back of his head, he looks at me and gives a sleepy smile.

"I smell the food, where is it." he says, obviously not all that awake either.

"Kitchen. Help yourself." I mutter between mouthfuls from my place on the couch.

When Soda disappears into the kitchen it doesn't take long until he comes running out to hug me and plants a kiss on the top of my head. I just sit there stunned for a minute, not sure what I should do or say. Soda doesn't seem to notice my reaction though 'cause he just continues on in that happy-go-lucky way of his.

"Can we keep her Darry? She makes breakfast and everything!" He says, a smile plastered on his face.

Soda sure did smile a lot. Come to think of it, he's always happy when I see him. I wonder why.

"No. She's not some dog you can keep Soda. Is Ponyboy up yet? That kid better hall tail if he knows what's good for 'im."

Darry said it meaning Pony, but I felt a little bit of that irritation was directed at me. I have a feeling it's going to take more than breakfast to get through to him.

"Nah, he's completely sacked. Lay off 'im Dar, he didn't do nothin' all that bad."

For whatever reason I felt like that was my fault too. I mean, he was out because of me and my issues when he didn't have to be. Setting my plate down on the coffee table, I get up without a word and walk into the boy's room. Soda was right, Pony's completely out of it. He lays there on his stomach, one arm hanging off the bed, the other curled above his head, and from the door I can hear him muttering nonsense in his sleep. I'll admit though, his sleeping face is pretty adorable. Charlotte. Focus.

At first I try what I call the "gentle approach". You know when you try to wake someone up by whispering their name and shaking their shoulder a few times. Yeah, that did nothing. So I switch to tapping his face and calling his name in my regular talking voice. Not even a flutter of the eyes. From that point I got a little creative. I shook him hard and all he did was roll over. I slammed a book shut in his face and he didn't even flinch. I threw pillows at him and he just pulled one over his head. It dawned on me then that he was just being stubborn at this point. Taking a breather, I stand there with my arms crossed over my chest and consider bashing my shoe over his head but think better of it. Then I get an idea. Stomping over to the bed, I set myself down as heavy as I can on his back and almost immediately hear that it worked.

"Get. Off." He mumbles, irritated, from under the pillow.

"Get. Up." I say, mimicking his tone.

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes!"

I open my mouth to say more, but get cut off when he flips over, causing me to land on the other side of the mattress, and pins me down by my shoulders. Looking up at him now I can see his hair is tousled, not greased up like it usually is, and his sleepy eyes are half way open, glaring down at me. But it's not the fact that his hair makes him look hilarious or that his sleepy face is cute that makes my ears burn. Rather that I didn't notice he slept without a shirt on until now.

"I said to get off."

Despite his irritated expression his voice comes out sleepy and soft which makes my heart do a somersault in my ribcage. This is so not fair. Why me of all people? Why do I have to like him so much?

"And I said to get up."

Planting my foot on his stomach, I try to ignore the fact that it felt hard, and push him off me. He lands with a thud beside me and I sit up, swinging my feet over the side of the bed.

"Your breakfast is in the kitchen. Ya' better hurry before Soda eats it all." I say, walking out of the room. The whole way my heart pounding in my ears so loud that I thought it could vibrate the walls around me. Crushes suck.