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Disclaimer: Not mine.

"Johnny?" Ponyboy asked, tapping the boy sitting next to him on the elbow.

"Sorry Pony," Johnny answered, looking back down at the picture he had been drawing. Two stick figure adults on one side, a child stick figure in the middle with arms stretched out towards both sides of the paper, and several people drawn in more detail on the other side. He started to draw hair on the two adults, choosing the black crayon.

He glanced at Pony's paper and saw a sun smiling down on a group of people holding hands. There was quite a difference between the two drawings; one bright and gave off the image of happiness, the other with a large black X over the entire page, for Johnny had just crossed his drawing out, nearly breaking the crayon in the process.

"I asked if you're favorite colour is black."

"Oh... No..."

"Just wonderin' because you're usin' a lot of it," came Ponyboys voice again, and he picked up Johnny's now discarded drawing and examined it. "You sure don't like them much, do you?" Johnny could see Ponyboy's finger tracing the X and stopping on the two adult figures that he had crossed out individually.

"Don't like who?"

"These two."

They'd been having that conversation for day's. The two of them got together and drew a lot, and most of the time it was a similar scenario. Johnny would draw two adults and a little boy, then scratch the picture out. Why couldn't he just draw a sun like Ponyboy and be done with it?

"They're just pictures, Ponyboy."

Johnny turned around at the sound of the new voice, and frowned a little when he saw it was Darry. He still liked Darry an awful lot, and was glad that Darry did not seem to have told anyone that his parents weren't nice people, but he wasn't as comfortable around him as he once was; Darry knew Johnny's secret and it could spill out at any second.

But yet, he knew Darry would not, at least, until such a time came that it was necessary. Johnny had thought it ever since the first moment they had met; Darry was a person to be trusted through and through.

Apparently that answer suited Ponyboy, who had just drawn a big cake with a candle in the middle. "When's your birthday, Johnny?" he asked, drawing more candles on the cake.

"Next..." He paused, imagining the calender in his mind. "Tuesday."

"Well gee Johnny, you sure are good at keepin' secrets!"

Johnny couldn't reply.

---

Time seemed to pass more quickly than normal for Johnny Cade, and if he didn't know better he'd have said that someone had rigged the clocks- but he did know better, it was like this every year: he would think of ways to explain away his absence at school if he decided not to go, or would think of reasons not to be having a party when they announced his birthday at school, as they always did. The one day a year that so many children looked forward to, Johnny dreaded; his birthday came far too fast.

Almost as though it was mocking his mood, the sun was out and it was an unusually hot day for March the first. The first morning rays shined brightly through Johnny's torn curtains, arousing him from his sleep far too early for his liking.

"Just want to sleep," he muttered to himself and put his pillow over his eyes. He'd already made up his mind; he wasn't going to school on his birthday. He'd stay home and sleep, at least until he was sure his parents were gone, then he'd get up and do whatever he felt like; sleep, eat something, maybe go for a walk. He never felt like doing much on his birthday, and knew it was because he was in such a bad mood.

By the time nine o'clock had came and gone according to Johnny's alarm clock, Johnny was sure the world was out to get him. He had finally managed to settle back into something resembling to sleep, only to be awoken to the slamming of a car door and loud cursing coming from the house.

It was no different than any other year, or really, any other day. His birthday was not acknowledged by his own parents... Treatment he was used to.

With a sigh, Johnny tried to go back to sleep.

---

The chatter of children woke Johnny from his sleep, and he figured school had just been let out. People always walked by on their way home, and since he usually left his window open, he could hear them clear as a bell. Thinking that he wouldn't get much sleep, since it usually got louder rather than quieter in the evenings, Johnny got out of bed and quietly left the house.

The sounds of playing met his ears, and before he could stop, his feet were leading him towards somewhere that he had been spending more and more time; the lot at the end of his street, vacant of all but weeds, an oak tree that provided shade from the oppress summer heat, and a lot of litter. With a smile at the sound of a familiar voice, Johnny stepped up his pace.

Maybe his birthday wouldn't be so bad after all.

A.N: Zohmygee, I survive! I think most of the people who were reading this are gone, but hopefully alerts will be sent and new readers will join. If not, enjoy whoever has been steadfast and is sticking to this, despite my ridiculous delays in updating. There's this little thing called 'Life'... I seem to have just been introduced this year!