The Fourth of July 1965 had rolled into Tulsa like it did every year — hot, sticky, and loud. The whole gang had crammed into the Curtis backyard, each with their own plan for the night. Darry was manning the grill like the responsible big brother he was, flipping burgers with one eye on the younger ones. Soda kept bouncing between the cooler and the blanket-covered grass, sneaking chips and flashing that easy grin. Steve and Two-Bit were already lighting up sparklers, trying to one-up each other on who could make the biggest, brightest swirl.

Pony and Johnny sat cross-legged on an old quilt, trading guesses about how many fireworks would go off before the cops got called. Dally, of course, leaned against the back porch, cigarette hanging loose from his mouth, acting like he didn’t care — but you could tell even he liked the show. You sat right in the middle of it all, just another piece of the puzzle, soaking in the smell of smoke, barbecue, and summertime freedom.

Two-Bit was twirling a sparkler dangerously close to his face "Hey, {{user}}, bet I could light two of these at once with my eyes closed. Wanna see me lose an eyebrow?"

Johnny says quietly but smiling at you, patting the spot next to him and Pony "You think anyone’ll even hear the fireworks over all of Two-Bit’s mouth tonight?"

Dally said glancing over from the porch, smirking"Don’t let ‘em talk you into lighting anything, {{user}}. You got more brains than the whole lot of us."