Chapter Text
“I figured it would be the polite thing to do would be to answer a couple questions I’m sure you have and set a few rules, alright?” She didn’t wait for him to answer before she continued, “Now a big reason I chose you is because your file mentioned just how talented you were. You skipped a grade didn’t you?”
“Yes ma'am.” Glory he hated this. It was so strange, so formal. He wasn’t used to this.
Ponyboy was far more used to loud dinners, people talking over one another, multiple conversations happening all at once, hell the only time dinner was a quiet affair was when someone was in trouble or in a particularly bad mood. Even then chances were someone would just bother the person until they quit being so angry or just up and left. This whole ‘polite dinner' thing wasn't something he had ever had to deal with.
“Please call me Catherine, I hate feeling old. I’m only twenty-two, I’m very young.” She giggled, like she was letting him in on a joke. He just nodded awkwardly. “Aren’t you sweet?” She cooed when he didn’t answer, it made him feel like he was some dumb puppy.
“Umm... you were saying something about rules?” He asked nervously.
Good children don’t talk back.
Did that count right now? She had said she was going to answer his questions so it was fine, right? Answer questions meant that he had to ask questions, right?
“Oh, yes!” Pony kept his gaze on the table as she laid down some ground rules.
They were simple. Keep your grades up and study everyday, follow a schedule, don’t leave unless given permission, and, most importantly, don’t get into trouble. Ponyboy tried his best not to relax, just because these were the same rules Darry had didn’t mean there weren’t more or that they were enforced the same way. In fact he would almost bet money that they weren’t enforced the same way.
“...will I be allowed to leave on weekends?” He really didn’t want to push but if there was a chance, even just a small one, that he could visit Soda and the rest of the gang he would take it. And if he knew exactly what was expected of him he was less likely to break some rule he didn’t know existed. Hey, rich people were weird, for all he knew they had strange rules they thought were normal.
“I don’t care much about that. You are expected to be home if I tell you we will have guests but, well to be frank, I don’t care much otherwise as long as you remember to ask either me or my husband. Neither of us will say no unless we need you for whatever reason.” Pony’s eyes widened. Maybe he could do this. That didn’t sound bad at all! Catherine seemed to find his reaction amusing. “Darling, I have better things to do than worry about you.”
“Will–” Will he be able to contact his family? “Can I call my brothers?” She gave a light shrug.
“If you would like to, I don't see why not.” She didn’t sound like she understood why he would ever want to do that but it still wasn’t a no, so Ponyboy would take it. He could call Soda! It didn’t matter if she didn’t get it as long as he could still talk to everyone. “Now, I saw in your file you run?”
He nodded. Maybe Catherine was just in a bad mood earlier. Maybe that was just a fluke. She sounded like she genuinely wanted to know more about him. She sounded like she was interested.
“That’s amazing! People do love a good athlete, everybody just eats that type of thing up,” She gushed, “do you think you would want to join any other sports?” Pony had never really thought about joining other sports. Nothing else was engaging enough for him to want to play on a team.
“I don’t think so. Darry really wanted me to focus on one sport so that I could get good enough recruiters would notice.” Her face tightened at the mention of Darry.
“Ah well, he isn't here. And I want you to participate in as many sports as you can.” Suddenly she perked up, “Like football! If we got you on a normal exercise routine I’m sure you could do wonderfully! You’re a bit... skinny at the moment, it’s still a lovely build,” she said in what she probably thought was a reassuring voice. She was looking him up and down until he started squirming in his seat. He hated when people looked at him too long, especially when they were all but scanning him, “and it’s nothing a bit of time can’t fix. Not to mention you're still growing! That brother of yours was the star of the football team, right?”
“He was the captain,” He confirmed. He didn’t really like getting compared to Darry but, well, sometimes you couldn’t stop that from happening. He knew, intellectually, that he and Darry had a lot in common but he hated when people pointed it out. They used to get along because they were both good at school and both had their own sports they were passionate about. Pony remembers when he and Darry would spend hours talking about football or track.
But that was before Darry got all weird with it. Now nothing was good enough. His grades, that Darry used to say were amazing, were suddenly not cutting it. His interest in track was now only talked about if Darry was lecturing him about recruiters and colleges and ‘giving it his all.’ Couldn’t track just be a thing he did because he liked it? Why did Darry have to always try and make it about college and scholarships?
“Captain,” She said, awed. “You know my husband was captain of his team too. Oh! My husband, I’m sure you’re wondering when you’ll meet him.” He nodded. It felt like he was doing that a lot right now. “Well he’s ‘at the office’ right now. Between you and me I think he’s with that new secretary of his.” Ponyboy had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping.
“O–Oh?” He stuttered, trying to stay polite. She giggled at his reaction.
“Don’t worry, it doesn’t bother me any. I mean look around. I didn’t, and won’t ever, lift a finger for any of this.” She sighed wistfully, “He needs to get his kicks somewhere and who am I to stop him?” She continued talking as if this was a perfectly normal conversation. “As long as he keeps paying for everything I need I don’t see why I would try and ruin it over something so small.”
That made a bit more sense, he supposed. If he got to have access to this much money he would probably turn a blind eye to cheating too.
The type of money these people had could probably set up his whole neighborhood for months.
She gave him a strange look, eyes flickering down to his plate. “Honey, you don’t need permission to eat. The cook made it, it would be a shame if it went to waste. Oh, you know I really should get you on some sort of meal plan. It’s important to build up muscle.”
“That’s really not necessary.” Pony really didn’t want to inconvenience anyone, besides he already had a good build for track and he wasn’t particularly interested in joining other sports.
Catherine’s eyes narrowed. “Do not talk back to me. You will get a meal plan, and you will follow it.” She chided. It was light but there was something behind it that made Pony blink. He had thought they were just making conversation. He didn’t even really get what he did wrong. Suddenly she started smiling again. “Now please eat your food and stop picking at it.” He picked up his fork and started eating. “Thank you Michael!”
Ponyboy didn’t bother correcting her again, he just continued eating mechanically.
He didn’t want to be here. Now that he wasn’t as focused on the conversation it hit him how badly he wanted to be at home right now. Sitting next to Sodapop at the table. He wondered how Soda was doing. He would probably be taking this whole thing pretty hard. Briefly, he wondered how Darry was doing before he shook that thought off. Darry was fine. If anything he was glad he finally got rid of him without Soda being taken away too.
Darry had been looking for a reason to get rid of him since he got custody. Darry hated him. Which was fine, he didn’t care about Darry either. Maybe he used to, back before mom and dad, but not anymore.
“Well this was a lovely conversation,” Catherine drawled, snapping him out of his thoughts, “but I really should get going now.”
“Will– will I go to school tomorrow?” He didn’t think he was far enough away that they would move him into a different school district which meant that he could probably see the gang tomorrow.
“If you want, I suppose. But I’m sure no one will mind if you take the day off tomorrow to get settled in, Michael.”
He tried to not sound too desperate when he said, “No, no I can go in tomorrow.”
Pony couldn’t sleep.
The bed was soft, too soft, he couldn't get comfortable. He wished Soda was here. It was selfish, he knew, but... Soda had a way of making everything better. If Soda was here he would probably talk about how they didn’t have to be here long. He’d probably hold Pony and pretend he couldn’t feel his tears. Soda could make this all better, he always did.
He could see him tomorrow, Pony reminded himself. He could go to the DX for lunch and see if Soda was okay. Glory, he hoped Soda was okay.
Ponyboy tried to distract himself. He didn’t want to think about that right now.
Two-Bit would sure get a kick out of his new clothes. He could feel a smile try to make its way to his lips thinking about all the ways Two-Bit would make fun of him. He laughed a bit thinking of the ways he would respond.
The laugh quickly morphed into a sob.
He took a long, shuddering breath trying to calm himself down. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be in his bed in his room at his house. But the state had to go and take him away and put him here. In this random lady’s house. The fucking lady with mood swings. Glory, he hated her.
Acting like he was so below her just because he didn’t come from money. Not even wanting to call him his name. He remembered how she looked at him like he was dirty. He wasn’t dirty.
He wasn’t.
It wasn’t like he asked to be here. He had begged to stay, begged and cried and pleaded. But they dumped him here anyway. Like what he wanted, what everyone wanted, wasn’t important. And his social worker had dropped him off here with her.
And she had looked at him with those stupid green eyes and told him to clean himself up. He hated people with green eyes. They were always so rude and judgemental.
He wanted to go home. Home with Soda. In his own bed. With his own blankets. He tried to picture it as best he could. Soda next to him, the bed unbelievably warm because they both ran hot, the window shining a small glow over the whole room, the firm mattress under him, the blanket that would get kicked to the side at night—
Pony didn’t know when he drifted off but he woke up suddenly screaming. He scrambled to the side of bed, where was Soda—
He damn near started bawling when he remembered Soda wasn’t there. His throat felt scratchy and tight. Soda and Darry never let him scream for long before they woke him up. For a second he wondered how no one had come into his room after his screaming woke them up but then he remembered that there was no one occupying the rooms nearby. No one was around to hear him.
He supposed that should be comforting, he wouldn’t be disturbing anyone with his nightmares, but it only served to make him feel more alone.
No one would hear him. No one would help.
He came down in the morning after showering and getting ready for school. He stopped at the sight of a man at the dining table. For a second he had thought he saw Darry.
But obviously that wasn’t possible.
The man was reading the paper with a steaming cup of coffee next to him. Upon closer examination he could see differences in him and Darry. For one his eyes were different. Less of a cool green-blue that Darry had and more of a hazel. His hair was also just a shade darker than Darry’s. He was older, maybe not by much but definitely enough to make a difference.
But glory, they had the exact same build. Muscular and broad-shouldered. He could see how he had once been a football player.
He looked up at him looking just as uncomfortable as Pony felt. “You must be Ponyboy.” Ponyboy, he had called him Ponyboy. Maybe it was just his wife that was weird about that sort of thing.
“Yes sir.” The man, Mr. Anderson, he reminded himself, nodded a bit before his eyes flickered back to the paper, an awkward grin on his face. He must have stood there for too long because he spoke up again.
“Are you not going to sit?” He asked, eyes darting from him to the chair. Pony scrambled to take a seat and started picking at his nails nervously.
He sat there for a minute, his leg bouncing, before he spoke up.
“Umm— I’m sorry but do you know who’s going to be taking me to school,” Pony asked sheepishly.
The man looked him up and down before slumping down in his seat. “How old are you?”
“Fourteen. Sir,” He added hastily. The man's jaw clenched before he relaxed it and pulled a stiff smile.
“So you can’t drive yourself, huh?” Pony thought he was trying to joke around so he politely smiled. Glory he hoped it was an actual smile and not a grimace.
“No sir.”
“I’ll get you a car and an instructor when you turn sixteen, don’t worry.” Sixteen?! He’d better not still be here by sixteen. “I guess I can take you today.” He finally put the paper down. “I’m Adam.” He extended his hand and after a second Pony shook it.
“It’s nice to meet you Adam,” Pony said in what he hoped was a respectful voice.
“Yeah. Sorry I’m not being more polite but, well,” He shrugged, “it wasn’t me that wanted a kid.” Adam grimaced. He got up and gestured for Pony to follow before he came to an abrupt stop. “Oh, there’s muffins in the kitchen, you haven’t eaten huh? Sorry, I don’t do well with children.” He apologized tiredly, pointing in the vague direction of what was probably the entrance to the kitchen.
“It’s okay,” Pony reassured absentmindedly before heading to the kitchen. The muffin was good, chocolate chip. Man, it was good chocolate too.
He decided he liked this man more than Catherine. He might not be good with kids but at least he was trying. More than the person that had been the only one who wanted him in any case. It wasn’t much but it was something and Pony would take what he could get.
“So, Ponyboy,” Adam started suddenly.
“...yes?” Had he done something wrong? All he had done was grab a muffin. He racked his brain over anything that he had done that might be considered bad. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to grab food without permission? He knew that Johnny wasn’t allowed to just grab food at his house without someone hollering at him so maybe it was like that?
“I had, um, come home late last night and heard... yelling?” Pony could feel his face flush. He had heard him? Glory, that was humiliating, he could feel his face burn in embarrassment. “Do... do you want me to take you to a doctor for that?” He didn’t seem like he really knew if he should ask, which was fair. The nightmares felt too personal of a thing to bring up with someone he hardly knew.
“No, my brother already took me.” Darry had taken him after he had woken up screaming for a week straight.
Adam blinked. “Oh, did you just forget to take the medication last night? I can imagine this is pretty stressful for you, I could understand if you did.” Medication for what? He wasn’t sick.
“Medication?” He asked dumbly.
Adam tilted his head. “Did the doctor not prescribe you anything to help you with that?”
Why would he get a prescription for that? “No? The doctor just said I had too much imagination. He told me to do more during the day so that I would be too tired to dream anything up at night.”
Adam looked confused. “Did that... help?”
“Well not really but...” Poy trailed off and shrugged in a ‘what can you do’ sort of gesture. Nothing had really helped until Soda decided to start sleeping with him. That had helped his nightmares a bit, not a lot, but it curbed it enough that he didn’t wake the whole neighborhood up regularly.
“Remind me to schedule another appointment for you.” Adam said, brows furrowed, “I’m pretty sure that’s not what they’re supposed to do if it’s a regular thing.”
Pony nodded slowly. “Okay…”
By the time they had finally made it into the car Pony was feeling a lot more comfortable. For a moment he wondered how he ever compared Adam to Darry. Adam was basically the opposite of Darry. His eyes weren’t cold and closed off, they were warm and inviting. He was willing to listen to Pony when he started rambling about how track was going. Not to mention he was so much easier to be around, so much less suffocating than Darry.
“Hey I know you’re technically not old enough to drive but if I let you use one of our old cars, would you?” Adam asked. “Plenty of kids drive before they’re supposed to, right?”
“Yeah! I— I mean if you want to that would be tuff and all but you don’t gotta.” Cars were expensive. And he was only their foster kid. That was the type of money Socs blew on their real kids. Not their little charity projects.
Adam just laughed. “Kid I could buy you a brand new car twice over and be fine, just take an old one. You do know how to drive, right?”
Ponyboy nodded quickly. Two-Bit and Steve had taught him how in a parking lot a bit after his parents had died to try and cheer him up. He thinks that was one of the only times Steve had hung out with him without Soda around. That was a nice memory.
He shoved down the voice that said he wouldn’t ever have the chance to make any more like that. He would. He just had to be patient. He would.
“Great! I’ll show you where the cars are tomorrow. I get weekends off, thank god,” He laughed. “Y’know you’re a fun kid to hang around.” He mused. Ponyboy could feel himself perk up.
“I am?” Glory, he sounded pathetic. But maybe, just maybe, if he had someone that liked him in that house it wouldn’t be as bad.
Adam ruffled Pony’s hair with his free hand. “Yeah, I could forget your fourteen, I don’t normally like kids but you’re not as... annoying as I thought you’d be, y’know?”
Pony grinned. “Sure.”
He could feel a pit starting to form in his stomach when they reached the school. He had missed a few days and he knew people would’ve talked by now. And he hated when people were all up in his business.
For a moment he considered asking Adam to turn back. He might understand, might not get angry. But he didn’t know him well enough to be sure, and it was always better to play it safe with people he didn’t know.
Not to mention... he wanted to see the gang, so he steeled himself and got out of the car.
Glory, were people staring? He could practically feel their eyes digging into him. He tried to ignore them and just walk towards the lot where Two-Bit and Steve normally parked, but their eyes made him feel... itchy, in a way. Why couldn’t they mind their business? He knew that it would only take a week or two for them to move on anyways so why did they have to care now?
He waited in the lot trying to avoid everyone’s eyes by staring at the ground when he heard someone laugh, “Glory, Pone is that you?”