how to actually fail at life
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Suddenly it was deathly quiet. We had all frozen. Nobody in my family had ever hit me. Nobody. Soda was wide-eyed. Darry looked at the palm of his hand where it had turned red and then looked back at me. His eyes were huge. "Ponyboy. . ."
Let's walk to the park and back. Then maybe I'll be cooled off enough to go home.
He was sitting next to me, one elbow on his knee, and staring straight ahead. He was a strange greenish-white and his eyes were huger than I'd ever seen them. 'I killed him," he said slowly. "I killed that boy."
He didn't bat an eye when Johnny told him what had happened, only grinned and said "Good for you" when Johnny told how he had knifed the Soc. Finally Johnny finished. "We figured you could get us out if anyone could. I'm sorry we got you away from the party."
I started buttoning up the shirt. It about swallowed me. "Hop the three-fifteen freight to Windrixville," Dally instructed. "There's an old abandoned church on top of Jay Mountain. There's a pump in the back so don't worry about water. Buy a week's supply of food as soon as you get there-- this morning, before the story gets out, and then don't so much as stick your noses out the door. I'll be up there as soon as I think it's clear. Man, I thought New York was the only place I could get mixed up in a murder rap."
But this church gave me a kind of creepy feeling. What do you call it? Premonition? I flopped down on the floor-- and immediately decided not to do any more flopping. That floor was stone, and hard. Johnny stretched out beside me, resting his head on his arm. I started to say something to him, but I went to sleep before I could get the words out of my mouth. But Johnny didn't notice. He was asleep, too.
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