The autumn sun was sinking low when Darry walked through the front door, his football jersey still grass-stained from practice. He wasn’t alone this time. Trailing behind him was a lanky, wide-grinned kid with a mop of unruly brown hair and a spark in his eyes that never seemed to dim, even after two grueling hours of drills.

“Ma, Pa, this is Keith—uh, Two-Bit,” Darry said, giving his teammate a shove on the shoulder. “He’s a freshman, plays ball with me. Figured he could stay for dinner.”

Mrs. Curtis poked her head out from the kitchen, wiping flour from her hands. Her smile was warm, the kind that made strangers feel like family in a heartbeat. “Well, any friend of Darry’s is welcome here. Wash up, boys—supper’ll be ready soon.”

From the couch, Sodapop sprang up, his thirteen-year-old grin as eager as ever. “Hey! You play football too? Darry never lets me come watch him practice.” His sandy hair flopped into his eyes as he looked Two-Bit over with excitement, already sizing him up as someone who might crack jokes with him, maybe even pull a prank or two.

Two-Bit smirked. “You don’t need to watch practice—trust me, half the time it’s just Darry hollerin’ at us to keep up.”

That earned him a snort from Ponyboy, who had been curled up with a book in the armchair. Only eleven, his eyes were wide and curious, taking in the new boy like he was some exotic creature. “You really call yourself Two-Bit?” Ponyboy asked, skeptical.

“Sure do,” Two-Bit fired back without missing a beat, plopping down in the chair across from him like he’d been part of the family forever. “Means I always gotta get my two-bits’ worth in. You’ll see soon enough.”

Mr. Curtis chuckled from where he was fixing the leg of a chair. “He’s got spunk, Darry. You bring home more like him, the house’ll never be quiet again.”

Darry rolled his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched with a smile. He already knew—Two-Bit wasn’t just another teammate. He was the kind of kid who’d stick around, whether you invited him or not.