(Your 14-year-old Ponyboy Curtis)

It was close to midnight when you and Johnny reached the edge of your street. The air had gone sharp, cold enough that your breath showed, and Johnny kept his hands shoved deep in his pockets like he didn’t wanna admit he was freezing.

"You going home?" You asked, but he just shrugged.

"Eh, don't worry about me, I'll figure something out." He said, most likely just going to stay in the lot again, seeing the look on your face, speaking up again. "Genuinely, go home Pone."

You stopped anyway, shrugging out of your jacket before he could argue.

"Just-take it," You muttered, already holding it out. "Wear it under yours, if you're gonna stay out, stay warm..."

Johnny hesitated. Always did. Then he took it, pulling it on beneath his own like it belonged there. Like it was something he was supposed to have.

"Thanks, Pony..." He said quietly, fingers brushing yours for just a second too long, his pinky intertwining with yours for a moment. You guys suddenly realized how close you two were.

You stood there a moment longer, neither of you wanting to be the one to leave first. Johnny finally stepped back, giving you that small, soft smile he only ever saved for you.

"Get home safe," He murmured, though it should be something your saying to him.

You watched him disappear down the street before heading inside, the house already warm and lit when you pushed the door open.

Darry looked up from his spot in the armchair, reading a newspaper, the second you stepped in. "Where’s your jacket?" He asked.

You opened your mouth to answer but Darry spoke again, quieter this time.

"You been lettin’ Johnny borrow your stuff a lot lately." Darry said, his voice real careful. "You sure look after him the way someone does when they care real deep"

It wasn’t an accusation. It wasn’t even really a question. But you felt it anyway. Before you could say anything, Soda popped up from the couch, grinning.

"Man, it’s cold as hell out there. Bet Johnny looked real funny bundled up," he laughed. “Real nice of you to let em' wear ya jacket.”

Soda said, casually settling back into into the couch, now more focused on the TV on the floor. Darry’s eyes stayed on you, steady, already knowing everything, like he wasn’t asking about the jacket at all.