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At a first glance, Ponyboy Curtis looked like he was the weakest member of the gang. Sometimes, even the gang thought that. However, that was not true in the slightest. He was strong, despite him being slightly shorter than the average teenage boy at his age. It didn't take much to remind the gang that he was capable of holding his own in a fight, however. That proof came when he was jumped. He had been walking home from the cinema when it had happened.
Ponyboy was walking by his lonesome, kicking a rock with his feet. He was thinking about the Paul Newman movie that he had just watched when he heard a car engine behind him. At first, he thought that the car would pass by him, but no car went by. Yet, the engine was still rumbling behind him. It was loud and seemed to be slowly getting closer to him with each passing second. Ponyboy glanced over his shoulder and instantly tensed up. A red Mustang was stalking right behind him. He could make out four Socs inside that were grinning wickedly at him. As soon as they saw Ponyboy stare back at them, the driver of the vehicle sped up, slamming his foot on the accelerator. The car zoomed by the young greaser, skidding to a stop in front of him. As soon as it came to a stop, four Socs exited the vehicle.
Anxiety tickled Ponyboy's spine as he licked his dry lips. He cursed a storm in his head, something that Darry wouldn't be keen of if he heard it out loud. They were blocking his path, circling around him like wolves to prevent him from running away. Could he take them? Ponyboy wasn't sure. Four against one was hardly any fair whatsoever.
"Look at what we have here," one of the Socs started, a cocky smile plastered on his face. He took out his switchblade while the others cracked their knuckles. Ponyboy took a step backward, even though he knew that it was pointless. He just couldn't help but feel intimidated. He must have been staring at the guy with the switchblade for too long because his face twisted up in disgust. "Why are you staring at me?"
"Don't tell me that this town is infected with a little fairy," another Soc spat, causing Ponyboy to go stiff.
"Leave me alone," Ponyboy growled.
"Someone has to teach you a lesson," the one holding the switchblade hissed. Here it comes. Ponyboy tried to run forward, but before he could get two steps in, he was slammed against the ground. He gasped out as the wind was knocked out of him, the back of his head banging against the ground. The one with the switchblade sat on his stomach, making it hard to breathe. He dug his feet into Ponyboy's arms, making sharp stones painfully jab his skin.
"Look at your hair. It's so long… like a girl," he sneered. "Boys don't need this much hair."
"I think he needs a haircut," another Soc suggested.
"So do I. How would you like that, greaser? Would you like a nice haircut? Maybe you'll actually look decent for once."
"I think you need a punch in the face, but I don't think that will fix your problem," Ponyboy retaliated. He should have kept his mouth shut, but he was too riled up to care much about it.
Growling, the Soc grabbed a handful of his hair, roughly pulling it. He held up his switchblade and swiped it across. He then held the cut strands and sprinkled them on his face. "Maybe I should cut your tongue first."
The Soc slid the blade down his cheek, pressing deep enough for blood to seep out of the new cut. Ponyboy hissed at the sting, thrashing wildly.
"Darry! Soda!" he screamed. He was close enough home. Maybe they could hear him from here.
"Shut up!" the Soc on top of him barked. A hand was placed on top of his mouth, muffling him. But, Ponyboy quickly clamped his teeth down and broke through his skin. Blood gushed inside of his mouth, overwhelming his senses with the taste of iron. It was disgusting. A cry of pain left the Soc's mouth as he ripped his hand away. "You're going to pay for that!"
A punch impacted with his face, sending stars dancing across his vision. Ponyboy looked around, hoping to find some sort of weapon to defend himself with. His eyes landed on an empty beer bottle that was just within his reach. He pulled one of his arms out from under the Soc's feet, reaching above his head. Before another punch could hit him, his fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle. He swung it, shattering it against the Soc's head and knocking him out instantly. Ponyboy took a deep breath when the body rolled off of him, but he didn't have enough time to relax. He scrambled up to his feet, only to be grabbed by another Soc.
"Ponyboy!" he heard someone scream from far away. From his peripheral vision, Ponyboy could see the gang running down the street towards him. He could have left it there. The gang was coming to save him. However, he started to think about what the gang was going to say to him afterward. Darry was definitely going to go ballistic and holler at him for not carrying a switchblade or something. He was probably going to get babied by the gang, which he wasn't looking forward to in the slightest. Ponyboy couldn't have that.
One of the Socs socked him in the gut, causing him to double over. He wheezed as he tried to regain his breath. He can do it. He can get out of here without the gang's help.
"You're dead meat," one of the Soc's spat.
"No…" Ponyboy wheezed out, fueled by a drive that he didn't know that he had. "You are."
Ponyboy threw his body back, slamming his head against the nose of the person who was holding him. A loud, sickening crack sounded which was followed by a scream. Ponyboy was let go as the Soc stumbled back, covering his nose which was gushing out blood.
"My nose! You fucking broke my nose!" they cried out.
Ponyboy kicked at the Soc's knees, knocking him down. Arms looped around Pony's arms from behind him, but before he could be pulled away by one of the other Socs, he kicked at the one with the broken nose as hard as he could. Their head snapped upwards towards the sky. From where Ponyboy stood, he could see their eyes roll up into their head.
He was violently yanked backward and the Soc that had been standing idly around punched him, causing his head to snap to the side. He could taste blood on his lips, but he wasn't sure if it was from the hand that he bit before or his cracked lips. The punches kept coming left to right, making it near possible to regain his bearings. Blood was everywhere, oozing down his face. He probably looked like death at this point.
Come on, Ponyboy. You can do it, he coaxed himself.
His body twitched as he used his entire strength to lift his feet from the ground and curl himself into a ball. The Soc was struggling to hold him, but he didn't need to be in that position for long. He thrusted his feet forward towards, pushing the Soc that had been punching him backward. In one continuous motion, he planted his feet on the ground and used the momentum to flip the Soc that was holding him over his shoulder.
Ponyboy felt dizzy as he pressed his knee into the closest Soc's chest. His hands were shaking as he grabbed the Soc's head, slamming it against the pavement until they were unconscious (or maybe to hurt to move. Ponyboy didn't stick around long enough to see) and bleeding themselves.
"You're crazy, man," the last Soc muttered with a shaky voice. He groaned as he stood up on his feet and Ponyboy was about done with fighting. He quickly scooped up the switchblade that was used against him. His blood still covered the blade, but it still gleamed in the sunlight.
"Get lost," he ordered, gripping the blade so tightly that it was shaking, "or I'm not going to go easy on you. How about I give you a haircut starting with the tongue? Would you like that? You wanted me to get one."
The Soc's eyes flickered to the blade. He licked at his lips nervously, pondering his choices. He must have not seen the situation worth it because he fumbled with his car key. "I'll… I'll go," he swallowed.
"Don't you ever mess with me again, you dig?" The Soc looked reluctant, but Ponyboy snapped again. "I asked you a question."
"I… I… I understand."
And just like that, the Soc jumped into his car and sped away. He didn't bother to collect his unconscious friends. When the car was gone, Ponyboy finally relaxed. His shoulder slumped as he dropped the switchblade. He couldn't believe that he just pulled that off.
He turned his head, seeing the gang gaping at him. He didn't even notice that they were watching him until then.
"Oh, hi," was all Ponyboy could get out with a buzzing head.
"Is that the only thing you could say? Oh, hi?" Steve repeated. His eyes were blown wide, which Ponyboy wasn't used to seeing on him. If he wasn't in so much pain, he would have been smirking.
"Are you okay?" Soda asked, rushing over to him. He instantly pulled out a rag from his back pocket and tried to wipe off the blood from his face.
"I'm fine," Ponyboy replied, grimacing when the rag pressed too hard into his cut.
"You are anything but fine," Darry bellowed, pointing at his face. "Look at you! And what you did was absolutely—"
"Amazing!" Two-Bit finished, earning a glare from Darry. "I didn't know you could fight like that! Where'd you learn to fight like that?"
"Yeah, I want to know too. You really put a number on these Socs, man," Dally added, kicking one of the unconscious bodies.
Ponyboy could only shake his head. He was just as lost as the gang, so he truthfully answered, "I don't know where that came from."
"Why were you walking alone, anyway?" Darry pressed, turning Pony to face him when Soda stopped cleaning up the blood, finding it useless to keep trying without any water.
"I was coming home from the movies."
"You could have called. Anyone of us would have picked you up."
If Ponyboy was completely there, he would have rolled his eyes. Man, he hoped that he didn't have a concussion or something.
"I'm fine, Darry. Really. I really want to go home and wash this all off."
Sighing, Darry stepped away. "We're not done talking about this."
The gang started to walk back to the house. While they were walking, Johnny, who had been silent the entire time, finally spoke to him.
"Are you really okay?" he asked worriedly.
Ponyboy nodded, giving him his best reassuring smile. "Yeah. I just need a long nap."
"You're going to have one tuff scar."
Beaming, Ponyboy turned to Johnny. "You think?"
"Yeah, the tuffest scar here. Even better than Tim Shepard's."
They continued the talk to each other until they got back to the house. At that point, Ponyboy was hit with a wave of exhaustion. Man, he had been joking about needing a long nap, but now he couldn't wait to rest his head on his pillow.
"Don't even think about going to your room while you are bleeding like a stuck pig," Darry scolded.
"Yeah, yeah."