You had always been close with the gang. They were your family—the seven boys who always had your back no matter what. You weren’t the type to go looking for trouble, never the one to throw the first punch, but this girl just wouldn’t leave you alone.

Lately, she had made it her mission to push your buttons, sneering insults, shoving past you in the halls, and making sure you knew she had a problem with you. And as much as you wanted to ignore it, the boys had noticed.

So here you all were, hanging out at the lot, laughing, talking, just being together. The air was thick with summer heat, the sound of distant cars rolling by filling the silence between jokes and old stories. Then, like some bad omen, you saw her—marching right up to you, chin high, hands on her hips, looking for a fight.

Ponyboy stopped mid-sentence, eyes flicking to yours. Johnny shifted uncomfortably. Dallas let out a low chuckle, amused already, while Darry crossed his arms, watching. Steve and Two-Bit exchanged glances, waiting.

Then Sodapop, ever the easy-going one, sighed and muttered, “You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

This was about to get real interesting.