Quai Razio Serna

Lord, he's warm. Didn't think of that, that he could be. But he's awfully warm. Looks like it must hurt - the way he's lying on my legs like that, and his cheek right over my knee. The bones jut out so that it must hurt. He's sleeping all right, though. I'm glad. Glad he's all right. I think I'd like to touch his hair, but he might wake up, and then where'd I be? He might be angry.

'M glad he's all right. I was so scared. He thought I was scared about me when those Socs came, and maybe I was, but after they pulled up I was scared 'cause they were really gonna kill him. They were gonna drown him. I didn't mean to kill that one guy... But I wasn't sorry I did. Not sorry at all. I'm still not sorry, even though we got to run away. We're running away. Both of us. Not me by myself. Me with him. S'pose it's crazy to have done something like that and not regret it, and I bet I'm gonna go to hell, but I was already gonna go there, anyway, so it really doesn't matter. And anyway, now Pony's okay.

Funny how I'm older than him, and everyone treats me like I'm younger. I wonder if it's 'cause I'm so quiet. They all must think I'm dumb, or else just that my folks and all make me into a little scared kid. I'm just quiet 'cause I can see and hear stuff better. S'better to be able to look around and figure out what's going on, then be loud and showy, have everyone notice you and get jumped because you can't hear them walking up behind you. Besides, I can hear Pony better. He's got a nice voice. Kinda steady and soft, and sometimes funny and cocky. I like listening to him talk, and he reads and stuff, and he sounds really smart when he wants to, and it's nice. It's worth not talking so that he can.

He's so much better than my family. I don't even know why I call them my family. They don't treat me like I'm their family. And I can't complain about that 'cause it's not half as bad as it could be. And I don't care so much. I don't care 'cause I can always run and find Pony afterwards, like a little kid, like some brat. Pony's so safe, and I really shouldn't, I should just forget it. Maybe even leave him alone. But he doesn't act like anything but nice, and I like walking with him, and it feels all right. It feels right to share stuff, cigarettes and things. I wish we'd go to the movies together more often. We used to go together all the time, to keep safe. But he likes to do it alone, and I wouldn't ask him to bring me. That would be crazy.

I can't believe Darry hit him. Who'd hit Pony? He cried so much, and I was afraid to hug him or anything, just left a hand on his shoulder and wished I could say something right. I mean, I don't care if my dad hits me, but I look at Pony, and - no one should ever hit him. I never seen him cry like that. He said Darry didn't like him, but I never thought… I never… Yeah, though, there's the mark, real faint, you can see where he got hit. But his hair's ruffled from all the running we've done, and it's falling over his cheek, and hides Darry's handprint sorta.

I wonder what his hair would look like, if it weren't greased back. I think it would be kinda pretty. I really want to touch it. Maybe now that we're running away, we'll have to stop looking like hoods. Maybe he'll let it grow clean. Maybe... Hell, maybe a lot of stuff will happen. I don't know right now, 'cause right now we're on a train to somewhere, and who knows when we'll get there, and what all's gonna happen.

He's lit up by the moon a little, and the shadows of the trees sorta... ripple over him. He's as good-looking as Soda, he really is. God, I wanna kiss him... but what the hell am I thinking? He'd be so angry. He might hate me. I can't do that. But maybe if I touched his hair really light, he wouldn't wake up. --There. He's still asleep. His hair...

It's not as nice as it seemed, I guess. Wiping my hands on my pants is gonna take off the grease, but I can still feel it on my fingers. I'm sorry now. I wish I hadn't. I shouldn't've. I'm sorry. There's stuff people shouldn't touch ever. Oh well. I shoulda thought of that before I did it.

Love you, Pony.

The wall of the train car hurts my back, but it's okay. He's still warm, and sleeping, and I can see his breathing sort of, real steady. And it doesn't matter that my knees hurt. But I think too much. Hey - wait - we're slowing - but it's only gonna be like this for a second. We've got to get out. And I don't want to wake him up-- Shoot. Augh, my legs - that hurts - and I still don't want to wake him up, so-- He's heavy. I'm gonna fall off this train, forget jumping. And ouch - and the grass is wet, and it's cold--

But oh, God, he's in my arms. I better let go, he's waking, even though he's so tired he looks like he might not. And we've got to walk, and I don't want to. I'm so tired, I'm slurring stuff in my head. I wanna sleep... I just wanna go to sleep somewhere, and right now, I'm so tired I almost don't care if it's beside Pony or all by myself, just so long as my eyes are closed and I know no one's gonna kill me. Didn't think of that. I don't have to worry about being jumped, here. That's cool. So I'm gonna end up sleeping in a church with Pony, and not have to think about having my throat cut or get beat up by some Soc.

And hey... best only train ride of my life. Absolute best. That's never gonna happen again, as long as I live, but I never even thought it would happen. And it felt kinda like watching over Pony, him asleep and me thinking all about him. Sometimes, y'know, I think I like thinking.

Still love you, Pony.

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