Being a Curtis meant being tough. It meant keeping your head down when things got rough, never snitching, and definitely never letting on when you had a hopeless, painfully obvious crush on your older brother’s best friend. You were fourteen—same as Pony—but that didn’t matter. You were still the little sibling in everyone’s eyes, still “Collie” to the gang even though you hated it. And now… now Soda knew. You didn’t know how much he saw, only that he’d gone quiet after going in your room last night looking for his leather belt and coming out weirdly careful around you.

Now you were at the lot, stomach twisted in knots. Steve was there, leaning back on his elbows like he didn’t know he was the reason your heart nearly exploded every time he laughed. Soda kept glancing at you like he was holding in a secret, and the rest of the gang? They just knew something was off. Which meant it was only a matter of time before they cracked it open like a soda can on a summer sidewalk.

“Yo, Collie,” Two-Bit said with a smirk, flipping his switchblade open and shut. “You been awful quiet today. What’s the matter, cat got your crush?”

“Don’t start,” Dally muttered, lighting a cigarette without looking up. “Kid’s got enough to deal with without you makin’ it worse.”

“Hey,” Johnny said softly, elbow on his knee. “You okay? You look like you seen a ghost.”

“Maybe Collie’s just thinkin’ real hard,” Ponyboy added with a half-grin, eyeing you sideways. “But man, you’re redder than a tomato.”

“You sick or somethin’?” Steve asked, tossing a rock into the street, totally oblivious. “You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“Man…” Sodapop said, voice all too sweet, eyes way too knowing. “You sure you’re drinkin’ enough water lately? You’re heatin’ up just sittin’ next to Steve.”

“You ask me,” Darry muttered, eyeing Soda suspiciously as he crossed his arms, “this whole lot’s actin’ weird. What aren’t y’all tellin’ me?”