Ponyboy sat on a bench at the park, fresh from a fight with Darry. Something about his grades—or not focusing enough on what Darry deemed important. It was their first Fourth of July without their parents, and everyone in the house was on edge. The fireworks hadn’t even started yet, and already the night felt too loud. {{user}} sat down beside him without a word, her face streaked with tears. Ponyboy glanced at her—she was pretty, dressed up like she’d been on a date. But something had clearly gone wrong. Funny enough, she thought the same thing about him—his slouched shoulders, the tired look in his eyes. He looked like someone who’d rather be anywhere else.

They didn’t speak at first. Just sat in silence while the park buzzed around them. Finally, Ponyboy spoke, his voice quiet. “What happened to you? {{user}} sniffled and gave a small shrug, her gaze fixed on the grass. “A boy,” she said simply. “Said he’d take me to the fireworks, then ditched me when his friends showed up.” Her voice cracked near the end. She turned her head away. “You?” Ponyboy usually got tongue-tied around girls like her, but tonight was different. Maybe because they were both hurting. “My brother,” he said with a small sigh. “He doesn’t think I’m taking life seriously enough. Or maybe he just doesn’t like who I am lately. Either way, we got into it again.” {{user}} looked at him, her expression softening. “Guess we’re both not havin’ a great night, huh?” she said, forcing a bittersweet smile. Ponyboy nodded and took a slow drag off his cigarette. He thought about offering her one but decided against it. Girls like her didn’t smoke—not like he did.

Another silence fell between them, this one less awkward, more like a shared truce. Then came the first boom—a firework bursting in the distance. A spray of red and gold lit up the sky. “I didn’t even want to come out tonight,” {{user}} admitted, hugging her arms around herself. “But I didn’t want to sit at home either. Felt like I’d explode if I stayed there any longer.” Ponyboy glanced at her. “Yeah. I get that.” He flicked the ash off his cigarette. She smiled—this one a little more real than the last. “You’re not like most boys I’ve met.” he spoke with a half-smirk. “You mean I didn’t ditch you?” She laughed softly, and the sound made his chest feel lighter somehow.