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The house was quiet except for the occasional rustle of trees or car passing by outside. Mrs. Curtis prepared lunch for her three boys Darry, Sodapop, and Ponyboy. The youngest of three was sitting on the couch, re-reading a book he had been gifted by Darry for his birthday.
There was peace and quiet, no chattering from Sodapop and no Darry trying to look after his siblings like he was another parent. Sodapop was on a date with his girlfriend, Sandy, while Darry was hanging
That was, until a few harsh knocks came on the door.
They had gotten knocks like that all the time, from either Mr. Curtis, Darry, or some disgruntled neighbor.
"Sweetie, can you get the door?" Mrs. Curtis asked Ponyboy as she cut a sandwich in half.
Ponyboy dog-eared the page on his book before going to answer the door.
He jumped back when a random redhead, about Darry's age, stumbled into the house. He was obviously drunk but also seemed very miserable about something.
Mrs. Curtis was just as shocked as Ponyboy, but she figured he was just another greaser in need of help.
The boy, like many others, had heard about the Curtis home and how they were probably the friendliest family greasers could go to. He figured if his parents wouldn't let him in that the Curtis family would.
The redhead sat down on the couch before promptly passing out.
It was quiet.
Then: "Mama, do you even know this guy?!"
Mrs. Curtis shushed Ponyboy gently. "Leave him boy...the poor boy don't seem like he's got much of a home," she said empathetically. "Maybe he's one of those 'greasers' too." She said greaser like it was something she was learning about. Ponyboy had tried explaining it to her, but she was still getting the hang of it.
"I'll make an extra sandwich for him," Mrs. Curtis said before returning to her spot in the kitchen.
Ponyboy just stared at the redhead on their couch. There was drool escaping his mouth and seeping into their couch. It was their couch! Who was this boy anyway? Why did he decide to crash here of all places? He wasn't all frail like Johnny. It was easy to feel bad for Johnny since he looked like a kicked puppy for God's sakes. But then there was this big old guy with a stubble and a chubby figure.
Well, he sure did look friendly though... He was even wearing a Mickey Mouse shirt!
Ponyboy sat down next to the boy and continued to read his book. It was starting to get normal to see random kids walk in their house, just never pass out drunk like this.
-
The world spinned for a moment until it returned to normal.
Two-Bit sat up with a migraine. Then he paused. This wasn't his house...this was some random home!
"What the fuck happened..?" Two-Bit muttered to himself.
Mrs. Curtis turned to look at the boy. "Language," she chided, placing two ibuprofen pills beside him and a glass of water.
Two-Bit looked even more lost. "Where am I..?" he asked, getting a bit nervous now.
"You passed out on our couch like a freeloader," Ponyboy said bluntly.
Two-Bit looked sheepish. "My name's Keith, ma'am..." He was surprisingly polite for a greaser.
"You can call me Mrs. Curtis," Mrs. Curtis smiled.
Two-Bit took the pills and downed it with water.
"I'm Ponyboy," Pony introduced himself.
Two-Bit snorted. "Ponyboy? Are you serious?"
Ponyboy's cheeks flushed. "Shut up, man..." He muttered, but was already growing a bit fond of the greaser.
Mrs. Curtis watched for a moment before remembering that she still had things to do in the kitchen. She left the two together, sure that they would get along.
"So you're a greaser, too?" Ponyboy asked.
"Yeah..." Two-Bit nodded softly. "I think my folks kicked me out for gettin' drunk again. Said something about how they didn't want some drunkard in their house."
Two-Bit then realized how much he shared with some random kid.
"Uh-...nevermind...anyways I heard this place was real friendly..." he said awkwardly.
Ponyboy noticed his awkwardness and "I got to other brothers, Sodapop and Darry. Darry looks about your age too.."
Two-Bit couldn't believe it. There were more kids with weird names? "Sodapop?" he repeated. Then a thought crossed his mind 'Am I having an acid trip?'
Ponyboy nodded. "Yeah. It says so on his birth certificate, too..." he knew that sounded insane but it was true.
"You're sure you're real? Like I'm not high or something?" Two-Bit said.
"Yeah, this is real, dork." Ponyboy rolled his eyes. "Just cause my brother and I have some goofy names doesn't mean it ain't true." Pony got a bit defensive whenever his name was made fun of or questioned. Or if someone says something bad about one of his brothers.
"Woah, calm down, Pony," the nickname slipped out naturally. Two-Bit pulled out a cigarette but Ponyboy stopped him.
"If you wanna smoke you gotta do it outside." Ponyboy pointed at the door. "I'll smoke with you if you want."
Two-Bit looked at Ponyboy suspiciously. "You look like you're twelve. You shouldn't be smokin'.."
"I'm thirteen..!" Ponyboy whined. He pulled out his own pack of cigarettes.
"And your old lady just lets you?" Two-Bit asked.
Ponyboy went for the door as he nodded. "She doesn't like it very much, the scent I mean, so she always makes me go outside when I wanna smoke."
Two-Bit went outside as well, sitting on the front porch next to Ponyboy. He lit a cigarette.
Two-Bit blew out smoke. "Do any of your brothers smoke?"
Ponyboy shook his head. "Darry doesn't want to and Soda only smokes when hes upset or wanting to look cool. Darry says it's gonna ruin his lungs and he needs them for football. Besides, he has to keep himself healthy all the time if he wants a career in that."
Two-Bit nodded slowly, taking in all the information.
"That's neat. Your brothers gonna be a football star?" Two-Bit sounded impressed.
Ponyboy nodded excitedly. "Yeah! He's got a scholarship and everything!"
Two-Bit seemed to listen more than speak. It seemed like Ponyboy's rambling was interesting him - or atleast keeping his mind occupied.
And after a while of rambling and smoking, Ponyboy stepped on his cigarette.
"I'm going inside...if you want anything, just ask my mom.."
Two-Bit gave a single nod and stayed out there, watching as the sun set and turned to night. He couldn't believe how easy it was to make friends with somebody if you just passed out.