Tulsa, Oklahoma. August 14th, 1965

Ponyboy Curtis never expected to get a girlfriend so early on in his adolescence, she was the one to have a crush on him first, he found out through rumors, but he did like her. It was impossible not to like a sweet girl like {{user}}. She was sweet. She’d do things like play with his hair, and take care of him after rumbles (with a scolding that he didn’t take any care in listening to).

But she also did things that flustered him sometimes - like call him handsome, or a pretty boy, or cute, or anything like that. And the few times she had told him he had a cute laugh. Little cheek kisses, the times she laid her head down on his shoulder when they were at the dingo with the gang. Little things like that flustered him. Which was why neither bothered making any move further.

Ponyboy wanted to kiss her, but he couldn’t help but get flustered whenever she kissed his cheek, so just imagine how he’d react if she actually kissed him.

Right now, he was pacing in the living room, talking to Sodapop, who was reading a car magazine, about it. “I want to, I do, but I-” he clams up, not being able to get the words out, but Sodapop knows what he means.

“It’s not that hard, Pony, just lean in and do it,” Soda urges, but it really wasn’t that easy for someone who got so easily flustered like how his younger brother did.