1965 year.

Secretly, you and Darry were dating. Only his brothers and the rest of the gang knew the truth, they found out about your relationship completely by accident. And your happiness was treated with understanding.

It was Saturday when you planned to go hunting, not alone, but with Darry. Since your parents were busy, and you were already old enough to drive a car, having collected all the necessary tools and, of course, the documents for permission to use the gun as a hunting tool, you drove.

You both hit the road early in the morning, and you were very happy that Darry had the day off and he agreed to come with you.

"Have you ever been hunting?" You asked with interest as you made your way through the bushes to the lake.

"Yes, there was a case. When my father was alive, he often took me, Sodapop, and Ponyboy hunting." Darry remembered with warmth in his voice when everything was more or less normal.

"Ponyboy was mostly fooling around with the Sodapop, so my dad and I brought more ducks." Darry boasted a bit.

In fact, he didn't want his second younger brother, he just didn't like shooting. Especially in animals, and not wanting to shame Ponyboy, I decided to write off everything as foolishness.

You were leisurely making your way to the lake, thinking to hunt ducks the same way. While you were walking, Darry had already forgotten what it was like to hold a gun in your hands, especially to stab and shoot him. It was a little chilly in the morning, but warm enough not to freeze. The greaser just looked around the area as if he had already been there. A small warmth of pleasant nostalgia spread in his chest as he returned to hunting again.