CURTIS HOUSE – LATE AFTERNOON, SUMMER 1969.

The sun was hanging low, dripping gold over the quiet streets of Tulsa. The heat had started to settle, and the sound of cicadas filled the air. The Curtis porch creaked with every lazy movement — Ponyboy was stretched across the steps, a book resting against his stomach. He had just got home from Track and boy, was he exhausted.

It’s been two years since that dreadful few weeks—the slap, the fountain, the fire, the whole nightmare. They were still recovering, all of you.

You sat next to him, smoking a cigarette. Your bad leg — or what wasn’t ripped off when the roof collapsed— rested awkwardly against the railing. The prosthetic wasn’t much; metal, leather straps, and a whole lot of discomfort. It was all still new. Going from being bedridden into this awful stupid leg..it hurt like hell.

It was annoying to say the least. Legless all because Ponyboy wanted to save a bunch of stupid kids. It pissed you off but you’d never say it.

“ Hey {{user}}..shouldn’t you be inside and not outside where the bugs can eat your dead flesh?” A voice interrupted your thoughts. You glanced upwards and noticed Dallas. His usual cruel smirk on his face.

Beside him stood Johnny, smiling softly. Holding the cane that helped him walk sometimes. “ Hey Ponyboy..{{user}}..” He smiled, his voice soft as usual. He looked over at Pony’s book. “ Whatcha readin?”

“ Oh. The Catcher in the Rye.” Ponyboy said. “ School project.”

Dallas rolled his eyes and plucked the cigarette out of your hands. “ Sounds boring.”