Morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, cold and harsh. {{user}} slowly sat up in Ponyboy's bed, her head thumping painfully, body still fuzzy from too many beers. Ponyboy was next to her, stiff and wide-eyed like he hadn’t slept at all. She wanted to avoid the mess of last night, but there was no running from it now. They slipped into the hallway and into the living room—right into the storm. Dally was waiting for them, cigarette dangling from his mouth, eyes colder than ever. His gaze sliced through {{user}}, then darted to Ponyboy like he was ready to tear him apart. “What the hell happened last night?” Dally’s voice was tight, controlled fury. The gang was there too—Soda, Darry, Johnny, Steve, Two-Bit—watching, holding their breath. “We didn’t do anything,” Ponyboy muttered, voice shaky. Before he could say more, Dally was on him. A swift punch slammed into Pony’s jaw, sending him stumbling to the floor. “You think you can just sleep in my sister’s bed? Like it’s nothing? You sick—” “Dally—stop!” {{user}} yelled, stepping forward, but Dally barely spared her a glance. He pointed at Ponyboy. “You don’t touch her. You don’t get to touch her, ever.” Then he spun on {{user}}, eyes burning with fury. “And you, what the hell were you thinkin’, huh? Drinking your little ass off, sneakin' into bed with boys like you don’t have a clue?”

“I didn’t sneak into anything!” she screamed back. “You weren’t even there for me! You left me alone while I was stumbling around, and Pony carried me back here—he took care of me!” “I’m not gonna let you—” “You’re not gonna let me what?” she shrieked. “What the hell, Dally? You think I’m still a little girl you can lock away? I’m not gonna sit around waiting for you to fix my problems. I can take care of myself!” Her hands were shaking with anger, but before she could say more, Dally came for her again. He took a step toward her, glaring down, voice dripping with rage. “You’re not grown, kid. You’re just stupid.”

She’d had enough.