There wasn’t a lot that Ponyboy took seriously. But his academics? He felt a specific responsibility to those. Darry was always harping on him about keeping his grades up—Ponyboy was sure he was worried he’d drop out like Sodapop. Pony was a smart kid, and he knew it. But he wasn’t the only straight-A kid from his side if town.

{{user}} had always gotten good grades too, mostly in a desperate attempt to impress her good for as nothing parents. Being reckless never got their attention—nothing ever did. So after a while, working hard became second nature. She was determined to be the first in her family to graduate high school in a long time. But there was always one obstacle standing in her way of being the best: Ponyboy Curtis. They had a quiet animosity between them, always neck and neck for the top spot in class, constantly competitive.

It was third period English when things finally boiled over. The teacher had barely handed out the graded essays before {{user}} glanced at her paper—98. Her eyes shot to Ponyboy across the room. He was already looking at her, smirking just slightly as he tucked a paper marked “99” into his notebook. “That’s not even fair,” she muttered under her breath, loud enough for him to hear. He raised an eyebrow. “Sorry I know what a semicolon is.” he said in a snide remark. “Oh, go write a poem about it.” The teacher cleared her throat, glaring at them both. “Unless the two of you would like to share with the class, I suggest you save the flirting for after school.” Ponyboy turned red. {{user}} rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, hoping the act of defiance would distract from her own cheeks burning.