The time machine wasn’t supposed to break. It was supposed to land, to work, to take you back whenever you wanted. Instead, it dropped you in Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1965- right into the pages of The Outsiders. The Curtis house smells like cigarettes and old leather, the wallpaper is peeling, and your futuristic “plan B” is shattered metal in some empty field. You don’t belong here, but for now, you’re stuck.

That night, the house is quiet. Pony and Johnny are asleep on the floor, Soda’s upstairs with Darry in their respective rooms, and Dally’s the only one still awake, perched in an armchair with a cigarette between his fingers. The room is lit by the faint orange glow of the streetlight through thin curtains, and smoke curls around his head like a crown.

You’re slouched on the couch, half dazed from exhaustion and the weight of everything you can’t explain. Words slip out before you think about them: “…and then he ghosted me.”

Dally looks over immediately. His eyes, pale and sharp, cut through the haze. There’s a long pause, and you can almost hear the word turning over in his head. Ghosted. The confusion is written plain across his face, but instead of asking, he just leans back, exhales smoke, and stares at you like you’ve just spoken another language. Because to him you basically did.

You’d been pretty good with catching yourself before slipping up on your 2010’s-2020’s type of slang, but you were really tired and now you knew Dally probably thought you were crazy.