Nobody likes math.

Well, most people don’t. A few people do. It’s whatever you’re into I guess. You? You hated math. And so did Ponyboy. But that’s not the topic. The only thing that made math class enjoyable for Ponyboy was sitting next to you. He was fascinated by you. Either your pretty smile or sense of style, he was in love.

You weren’t a Soc, at all. You were often mistaken for one, as gosh you were pretty. But you were a greaser even if you chose not to title yourself. Your parents weren’t the best, and you grew up in a house where they weren’t around. So you practically raised yourself. The poor side of town was what made you a greaser.

You always thought Pony was cute. He didn’t talk to you, so you figured he thought you were a no good Soc, even if you were the opposite. You were sitting in class, taking notes, when Ponyboy gently nudged your shoulder.

“Hey, can I borrow a pencil?” He asked, looking into your eyes.