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Chet never meant for any of this to happen.
He never meant to break Sodapop Curtis’s heart two years ago when they stopped hanging out. He didn’t even want to stop talking to him, actually. He was a nice guy to talk to! But he wasn’t going to be seen with a Greaser, even if that greaser meant everything to him. Chet supposed it didn’t help his image that Soda was failing most of his classes, even if he knew that he wasn’t dumb.
He could still remember the broken look on his face, how his deep brown eyes had been filled with tears. He would do anything to forget it.
Even so, Chet’s life had been going great since then. Sure, his dad was still an asshole. And sure, none of his new friends could compare to what he had with… him, but it was alright otherwise. He was doing good in school, and that was all that really mattered.
He hadn’t really wanted to go to the Drive-In that Friday since he was the only one other than Trip without a date. Bob had Cherry, Randy had Marcia, and Brill had Bev. Trip didn’t exactly count, because he was, for some reason, competing with Brill for Bev. Chet didn’t understand it. Sure, she was pretty and all, but he wouldn’t actively try and break her and Brill up.
He kind of missed Sodapop.
Chet pushed the thought to the back of his head where he hoped it wouldn’t resurface again. It never worked, but he would try.
He found himself at the Drive-In anyway. Bob and Randy had been drinking before they picked up the girls. Hell, everyone had been. Chet had had a few sips of his own, but couldn’t bring himself to drink any more than that. The last thing he wanted was to be like his dad.
He was sitting in the back of Randy’s mustang when they arrived at Cherry’s house. Cherry and Marcia were hanging out there so it would be easier to pick them up.
The back door opened, and Marcia and Cherry sat down next to him, Marcia on his left and Cherry on his right. He brightened up a little bit. They were always nice to hang around with. Better than Trip and Brill, at least, who would start fights with anyone. They’d gone to pick up Bev in their own cars, seeing who could get to her house first.
”Hey, Marcia. Cherry.” Chet greeted, grinning when Marcia did.
”Hey, Chet. How’re you doing?” Marcia asked, watching out the window as Randy and Bob argued about something outside of the car.
Chet shrugged one shoulder, considering the question. He would lie. He always lied. “I’m good. What about you girls?”
Cherry looked over to him, eyebrows furrowed together in concern. “Have you boys been drinking?”
Marcia whipped her head around and gave her a mean look, but Chet looked down at his hands, fidgeting with his rings and bouncing his leg. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. What could he possibly say to that? They had been. “I mean… yeah, I guess. I didn’t have much. Not sure how much Bob and Randy had.” He muttered, still looking down.
Cherry crossed her arms and scoffed. He wasn’t sure why she was so mad. Maybe it had something to do with the blood crusted in the grooves of his rings. He couldn’t remember how it got there.
Just then, the front doors of the car opened and slammed shut. Chet jumped and looked up to see Randy in the driver’s seat and Bob next to him.
Bob grinned, turning to look at the group in the backseat. “Alright, who’s ready to see a movie?” Cherry just glared at him, and Bob sighed. “Cherry, we didn’t have that much.”
”Really? Then how come I can…” Chet stopped listening when Cherry started to raise her voice. It was too similar to his parents.
He found himself wondering, like always, about how Soda was doing. He cursed himself silently. He didn’t get the right to call him that anymore. He didn’t get the right to think about him anymore.
Still, his mind ignored him, and went on thinking. He’d heard from the whispers and rumors at school that the family that got hit by the train was Soda’s parents. Glory, he had hoped it wasn’t true. That was the last thing that boy needed. But he knew it was true. He remembered the Curtis’s car. It was definitely the same one from that crash.
Before he knew it, they were at the Drive-In parking lot, and doors were slamming as Marcia and Cherry got out, Bob and Randy watching with jaws clenched. “What’s their problem?”
”They just want to be difficult.” Randy’s fingers were wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, knuckles white.
No, Chet thought. They’re being reasonable.
Bob took another swig from his flask, and Chet knew then that it was going to be a long night.
Chet was drifting off in the back of Randy’s car when Trip shook him awake. He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of his surroundings when he noticed they were at Pershing Park. There were two figures sitting on the monkey bars, and Chet had a sinking feeling that he knew why he was woken up.
”Those are the bastards.” Bob nodded towards the kids, pure hatred in his eyes.
”Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go get them. C’mon, Chet.” Trip shoved the door open and grabbed Chet by the arm, dragging him out of the car.
He’d only been half-awake when he caught the conversation, but he was pretty sure that these were the kids that messed around with Cherry and Marcia. One was wearing a striped shirt and jeans jacket. He had a scar on his face near his eyes and long, black hair. The other one was wearing a white shirt and had a bruise on his eye and the beginnings of another on his jaw.
The five of them approached the kids, Bob and Randy in front. “Well, if it isn’t the Greasers that picked up our girls? Hey there, Greasers,” Bob nodded towards Chet and Trip, and they grabbed the kid in the white shirt. He looked familiar, but Chet couldn’t place why.
Brill grabbed the kid in the striped shirt, holding an arm across his chest as he struggled to get free. “Y’all are outta your territory!” The kid yelled as Brill yanked him back.
”Territory?” Bob scoffed, an evil grin on his face. One that Chet recognized. “I bet you can’t even spell territory.”
Randy was leaning against the hood of his car with his arms crossed. He looked kind of torn, and Chet couldn’t blame him. He didn’t exactly want to hurt these kids, but boy, was he itching for a fight.
”Y’know what a greaser is, Randy?”
”What, Bob?” Randy pushed himself off his car, going to stand near Bob.
”Tulsa trash,” Bob looked the kids in the eyes. “With long greasy hair.”
The kid with the scar— he looked familiar, too— struggled again, trying to break free of Brill’s hard grip. The kid with the bruises was glaring daggers at everyone but the other boy. “Y’know what a Soc is, Johnny?”
”What, Ponyboy?” Chet stiffened, tightening his hold on the kid— Ponyboy. Jesus, he looked familiar because he knows Ponyboy. He didn’t want to hurt him! This kid probably didn’t even do anything!
But the meaner, jealous-ridden part of his brain wanted nothing more than to hurt him. If he hurt Ponyboy, it would hurt Soda. The thought lit a fire in his heart, and Chet knew then that he’d do whatever Bob told him to. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to hurt Soda. Maybe it was just to remind him that he existed.
Bob jerked his head again, and Trip and Chet carefully took their hands off of Ponyboy, who walked right in front of Bob, looking him deep in the eyes. “Tulsa trash with mustangs and madras.” To top it off, Ponyboy spit right in Bob’s face.
Bob wiped it off, scoffing and throwing the spit onto the ground. He looked to Randy and grinned. “Let’s put him in the water, boys!” He grabbed Ponyboy’s hair right at his scalp, and the kid’s hands immediately went to Bob’s, trying to relieve the pain from him yanking. He was grimacing, and the look of pain just made Bob’s smile widen.
Bob threw Ponyboy’s head onto the hood of the car where a loud bang could be heard. His hands went slack around Bob’s, then his eyelids drooped, and he looked kind of dead.
Chet just stood there, shocked, before the fire in his gut burned brighter and he helped Bob get Ponyboy’s face into the fountain’s water where a thin sheet of ice was forming. His head smashed into the ice as he was dunked under, and he started thrashing around, kicking Chet in the face.
Chet stumbled backwards, his hand going to his nose and coming back red. Randy took his place, holding Ponyboy under the water as he frantically tried to get up. Brill and Trip were beating on the other kid, he was pretty sure.
Bob pulled Ponyboy up out of the water, smirking as he gasped and coughed for breath. His eyes were wild and terrified, frantically searching around the park in the brief seconds he was above water before he was pushed under again.
”Ponyboy!” The other kid— Johnny, Chet thinks— screamed. He sounded horrified. He looked towards where the shout came from to find Brill kicking the kid’s ribs in before sauntering over to the car and sitting on the hood, howling with laughter.
”Hey, Brill!” Bob called, and Brill raised an eyebrow. “Come give this kid a drink, will ya?” He pulled Ponyboy back above the water by his collar as Brill appeared next to him, flask in hand. Bob grabbed it and dumped it on Ponyboy as he was gasping for breath.
”Johnny!” Ponyboy croaked before he was put under again.
The next time Bob brought him up for air, Ponyboy looked pale. He was visibly shaking, and coughing out water that he’d likely swallowed. “Please, I didn’t—“ tears rimmed his eyes as he was shoved under. His struggling became weaker and Chet suddenly felt very nauseas. This was Ponyboy. He’d known Soda for so long that this kid was practically his little brother, too. And he was just… watching him be drowned by his friends. He was standing by and letting his ex-best friend’s little brother get drowned.
He ran up to Bob before he even knew what he was doing, grabbing his collar and shouting in his face. “That’s enough, man! He’s had enough!”
Bob didn’t move. “No, man. He’s gotta learn his lesson.”
Chet gaped at him. He was actually going to kill this kid. He yanked Bob back forcefully. “You’re gonna kill the damn kid, Bob! Do you want to get the electric chair?”
Bob paled. The thought of getting the death penalty seemed to sober him up pretty quickly. “Brill, let him go.”
Brill didn’t even hesitate. He put his hands up, letting Ponyboy drop into the fountain. Randy backed away to the car very slowly. When Randy got into the drivers seat and Chet still hadn’t moved, he yelled. “Chet, are you coming or not?”
He should.
He really should go with them and forget all about this. Forget about Soda.
But he can’t.
Not when Johnny is just getting up from the ground and clutching his side. Not when Ponyboy is trying, and failing to pull himself out of the fountain. He’s going to stop moving soon if he doesn’t get help. And Johnny is sure as hell in no condition to do so.
”No, I… you guys go. I’ll take care of this.”
“Suit yourself, man. Jesus…” the car doors slammed and the blue mustang zoomed back into the street.
Chet made his way to the fountain quickly and grabbed Ponyboy, hauling him out of the water. His shirt was completely soaked through, making him heavier than he was. He lowered Ponyboy onto his side patting his back as he coughed up the murky water and threw up a few times.
Johnny hobbled over as fast as he could, switchblade clutched tight in his shaky hand. “What…” he was looking at Chet. He looked angry, but also terrified.
Chet pulled Ponyboy into a sitting position once he was done throwing up and shrugged off his letterman jacket, wrapping it around Pony’s shoulders. “I’ll walk y’all home.”
Johnny took a furious step forward. “Hell no! You just—“
Chet held up a hand. “Yeah, I know. And I’m the only reason Pony’s alive. I know Bob. He would’ve kept him under the water until he wasn’t moving, and wouldn’t realize he was dead until too late. Did you want that?” He couldn’t help it if his voice raised at the end. Did this kid not realize he just helped him? What the hell was his problem?
Ponyboy looked at Chet, eyes hazy and unfocused. Chet swung an arm over his shoulders and pulled him to his feet. “C’mon, kid. Let’s get you home.”
They started the short walk from the park to the Curtis house, Ponyboy stumbling the whole way and leaning on Chet, and Johnny following cautiously behind them, switchblade still in hand. It must’ve been at least half an hour before they reached the house.
Ponyboy shivered rather hard in the street and turned his face into Chet. “I can’t—“
Chet raised an eyebrow, pushing Ponyboy’s figure away from him by the shoulders. Ponyboy looked up at him, tears stinging his eyes, before looking to the ground. “He hates me. I can’t…”
”Who hates you?” Chet asked gently.
”Darry. Maybe Soda. I— I don’t know. Darry can’t stand me.”
Chet froze. Darry? Hate Ponyboy? That didn’t make sense. He knew Darry. He’s met Darry. There couldn’t possibly be anyone he loves more than his baby brothers. “No, that’s not right…” Ponyboy started to pull away and Chet pulled him back. “Ponyboy. Look at me, alright?” He waited for him to look. “Your brothers love you so much. I know I haven’t seen you guys in a while, but…” he swallows painfully. “Lord, I don’t think there’s anything in the world that could change how much your brothers love you.”
Ponyboy just looked at him, tears still filling his eyes, before he nodded and leaned back against Chet. This kid has a lot of trust, he realized, to let Chet take him home after he ditched his entire family for his own reputation.
Chet opened the gate carefully and basically carried Ponyboy up the steps.
Realistically, he knew they always kept their front door unlocked. But he didn’t want to just barge in after so long, so he knocked. The door was thrown open by a sleep-deprived looking Sodapop. The two boys stared at each other for a long moment before Chet tried to joke. “I found your brother.”
Soda’s gaze flickered down to the shivering and still soaking wet Ponyboy wrapped in Chet’s jacket. “What— what happened?”
”Long story. You gonna let us in or what?” Chet grimaced when his words came out harsher than he’d meant them to.
Soda hesitated, leaning on the doorframe and blocking the way in. He grabbed Ponyboy’s arm and pulled the shivering boy close to him before he saw Johnny. He stared for a long time at the switchblade before sighing and opening the door all the way. Chet stepped in and closed the door after Johnny, standing awkwardly in the corner. He saw Darry— he remembered him, at least. Most popular guy in school before he graduated, and with being Soda’s old best friend, they’d met more than once. His head was in his hands while he sat on the couch, but he startled up when he heard the door closed. He glared at Chet for a moment before turning his attention to Ponyboy.
He was standing up from the couch so fast he nearly hit his shins on the coffee table. He rushed to Soda’s side, and Ponyboy tackled him in a hug, sobbing into his shoulder and muttering apologies that Chet didn’t understand. Darry hesitantly hugged him back, kissing his forehead and guiding him to the bathroom to, presumably, dry off.
Soda looked back at Chet, where his face went through several different emotions before finally settling on relief. “Thanks for… finding Pony.”
Chet muttered a “yeah. Anytime,” and reached for the door to leave when Soda grabbed his arm.
”Wait, Chet… I…” Soda looked like he had about a million things he wanted to say.
Chet shook his head. “No, don’t say anything. Just… I’m sorry. I was an idiot before. You don’t have to forgive me. But you should at least get some sleep. We can… talk some other time?”
Soda let go of Chet’s arm, taking a hesitant step back. “Yeah… sure. But… spend the night, at least?”
And maybe Chet had a long road ahead of him. Maybe he had a hell of a lot of apologies to get through, and maybe he would lose his credible reputation. But for Sodapop Curtis? It was all worth it.