"You taken {{user}} to the party?" Ponyboy asked, just to be sying something. Instant silence. "Whats the deal?" Sodapop was staring at his feet, his ears reddening. "No. She went to live with her grandmother in Florida." "How come?

"Look," Steve said, surprisingly angry, "does he have to draw you a picture? It was either that or get married, and her parents almost hit the roof at the idea of her marryin' a sixteen year old kid."

"Seventeen," Soda said softly. "I'll be seventeen in a couple of weeks. "Oh," he said, embarrassed. Soda was no innocent. His bragging at bull sessions was as loud as anyones.

But never about you. Not ever about you. "We'd better get on to work, Pepsi-Cola." Darry rarely called Soda by dads pet nicname for him, but he did so the because he knew how miserable Soda was about you.