Chapter Text
Ponyboy kicks the rock ahead of him as he walks towards the east side of Tulsa, slouching and glaring down at his beat-up tennis shoes. He had received a less than acceptable grade on his English quiz, a ninety-four. Ponyboy shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and frowned. He probably would have gotten a higher score if those damn Socs hadn’t come along earlier in the day and mildly threatened him with a switch for literally only breathing in their direction. Stupid.
He squinted as he looked up through the still-blond streaks of hair that drooped over his eyes, gauging the distance between him and his house. Alright, he had time to make it to the house and sit around for a few hours before he had to go back to school for track practice. Biting the inside of his left cheek, he thought about the lecture he would likely get for walking home alone again, maybe he could find Johnny and convince him to act like they walked together the whole way. Johnny was a shit liar though, couldn’t lie even if his life depended on it. He always asked Pony how he was such a good liar, Pony lied and said he didn’t know. Johnny believed him anyway.
“Hey! You! The one with the weird hair!”
God, this again? Don’t they have anything better to do? Ponyboy froze, Socs always stirring something up. After Bob got stabbed and lived , Pony assumed that they would give it up but no. He assumed wrong. Ponyboy prepared himself to get ready to run as he heard the owner of the voice begin to rush towards him. “Don’t ignore me you bloody prick!”
That one’s new. None of the Socs that Pony knew of sounded like that, actually. No one that he knew sounded like that, the accent was foreign, British. He had watched enough television to have a faint idea of what people from England sounded like and this guy fits the bill. Ponyboy turned on his heel towards the voice that was rapidly growing louder as the other teenager got closer. The kid was also blond, had bright blue eyes, scarred, and was really fucking tall. Yeah, Pony knew he was small for his age, but this guy was a freak of nature, and still looked to be around his own age. Unfair , he thinks.
“I’m not ignoring you. It’s just that most people don’t run up to strangers and call them pricks.” Ponyboy was a lot less intimated not that he really looked at the guy. Scrawny and was more height than anything else, Ponyboy could easily break a few ribs with a well aimed punch. Now that the boy, he didn’t look old enough to be over eighteen yet, finally caught up to him, Pony could now actually see that this guy had at most a head over him. “And,” Pony looked to the side “, my hair is not weird.”
Okay, yes, after Windrixville, Ponyboy did not decide to dye her hair back to its natural brown, thank you. And now it has grown out to the weird stage where he has both blond and brown hair, but that doesn’t mean it’s weird. It’s tuff, he promises. The kid opens his mouth again, revealing a set of braces, “Whatever you say. Anyway, where the hell am I?”
“Are you serious?” What kind of idiot doesn’t know that he’s in the heart of Tulsa, when there’s signs literally everywhere? “You’re in Tulsa, Oklahoma.” Pony says. No response. Maybe he’s an alien, there's a pregnant pause. The guy's blue eyes stare into his soul, looking for something, he guesses. A lie, probably. “Earth?”
“Oh, no way. Uh- yeah I knew that.” Good cover guy, “I’m Tommy. Tommy Innit.” That was a strange name, but he was a boy named Ponyboy who had a brother named Sodapop so who was he to judge? The guy-Tommy, looked nervous, like he had realized something was very, very wrong. Pony felt for the switch in his pocket, brushing his thumb over the handle, he was not going to be jumped by some crackhead who lost his touch on reality, again. Tommy opened his mouth to speak a little more, “Soo, weird question, Is your name Ponyboy?”
Ponyboy squinted at him, a stalker maybe? , but that was more unlikely then it was likely. Another person who had heard about his and Johnny’s whole fiasco, was the winning thought in his head. “Yeah, what about it?” Pony’s gaze hardened and his mouth became more downturned, this was old news and people are still talking to him about it. It was getting annoying at this point. The gang said people just wanted a reason to talk to him, mostly Soda and Two-bit, implying that people have been watching him for other reasons then wanted to beat him up. Clowns, all of them.
“Well, don’t give me that look. It was just a question, dick.” This guy likes to curse a lot, huh, must be an ego thing. Like Dally. Well, this guy seems mostly harmless. Except for that shirt, hideous thing, red sleeves and white torso. What was his mom thinking, if he has one, actually probably not. Has an orphan vibe to him.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s unique I know. Laugh it up.” Pony begins to resume walking, at least he’s not walking alone anymore so Darry can’t get on his ass about it. He’d kill him for bringing in some stranger to the house, though. Now that he thinks about it, there is no way out of this, he’s going to be getting a lecture no matter what. Shoot. Should’ve waited for Two-Bit to be done flirting with some Soc girl, but that would’ve made him late and made Darry worry, ugh.
“Wait, wait, wait, don’t leave me here ass wipe!” Does this guy ever stop it with the cursing? Even though Ponyboy had gotten quite a few steps ahead of this behemoth freak, the guy closed the gap in a few wide steps. Some people are destined to be tall, he guesses.
At this point, Ponyboy began to tune out Tommy’s endless questions about how he dressed, his friends, why he wasn’t responding, and other things that he didn’t feel like listening to. He should do his Algebra II homework first, then his Chem, he had an at home test to take in that one. He was going to try and put off French I as much as possible, sure, it made sense, but all of the conjugation and the irregular verbs were so tedious. Although, that homework was due on Wednesday and it was only Monday, so he could save that for Tuesday. Then-”Stop glaring ahead of us and talk back to me! You’re supposed to be the nice one, Ponyboy!”
How’d he know that? Even if he was just some guy who knew his name, the paper shouldn’t have said anything about his personality itself. Or anything else about anyone else in the gang. Pony finally looked back at Tommy and glared, “Just who the hell are you?”
tbc