This was Pony's first time at a club.

He'd like to pretend he wasn't nervous, but his body was thrumming with anxiety. He'd heard of tons of bad things that happened in this club, but the guys insisted to take him out there for his eighteenth birthday.

"It's like a rite of passage!" Dally had exclaimed, smacking Pony on the back. Apparently, all the boys had gone there for there eighteenth birthday. Some kind of stupid tradition.

Pony shoved his hands into his jeans as the boys practically shoved him inside the crowded club. Steve got Pony a stupid fake ID, but nobody asked for it anyway.

He ordered a beer from the counter (again, no one asked him for ID), and his eyes scanned the room.

Hot, sweaty bodies were dancing, flirting, laughing, screaming, crying, and making out. It was overwhelming.

Pony spotted the boys huddled in a crowd and checking out a group of girls, covered by their bodies. Pony grabbed his beer and walked over to the boys, trying to see what all the fuss was about.

When he caught sight of the group of girls, his mouth nearly dropped open in shock.

It was a group of girls similar to the size of the Greasers-all of them cute, dressed up in little summer dresses, the cuter ones wearing low-cut blouses and pleated skirts-but one girl in particular caught Pony's eye.

She was dressed in a regular everyday dress-the baby curls of her hair gently twisting around the sides of her head, wearing a lacy blouse with a bow, a matching skirt that went down past her thighs, and a white pair of stockings held up by garters.

While all the other girls were laughing or smoking, she was reading a book under the table like she didn't have a care in the world.

Sodapop chuckled into Pony's ear. "You see her too, huh? A real doll, ain't she?"

Ponyboy nodded mindlessly, his head cloudy as his eyes were stuck on her.

Two-Bit was more crude, and said a bit too loudly to the boys; "Damn, that one's stacked, Pone! A real pin-up girl!"

Ponyboy's eyes widened as the girl looked up at him.