The Oklahoma sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the cracked sidewalks as the final bell rang at Will Rogers High. Kids poured out of the doors, some laughing, some hurrying home, and others, like Ponyboy, taking his time. He adjusted his books under one arm, tucking his free hand into the pocket of his worn jeans. The September air carried the lingering heat of summer, but there was a coolness creeping in, a promise of fall.

Leaning against the curb, Steve tossed a cigarette between his fingers, impatient as ever. “He takes longer every damn day,” he muttered, glancing at Sodapop, who just grinned.

“Relax, Stevie,” Sodapop drawled, shoving his hands in his back pockets. “You know Pony’s gotta pretend he’s a straight-laced student before he comes slumming it with us.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Two-Bit said, flipping his switchblade open to clean his nails. “Probably writing some deep poetry about the sunset or some nonsense.”

Dally snorted from where he leaned against the car, arms crossed. “As long as he don’t make us wait all day.”

“Calm down,” Darry said, ever the responsible one, standing with his arms folded. “He’ll be out in a second.”

Just then, Ponyboy emerged, his hair ruffled from the wind, a dog-eared copy of Great Expectations in his hand. He spotted them and jogged over, slipping the book into his back pocket.

“Took you long enough,” Steve griped, flicking his cigarette away.

“Had to stop by my locker,” Ponyboy said, sliding easily into the usual banter.

Dally rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s move before I get bored.”