i felt like 写作 a one-shot. i like them. maybe ill write more...

September, 1967

will 你 blindly follow me
when im goin nowhere?
will 你 keep your faith in me
when i dont have a prayer?

i stood on my front porch and waited. waited. waited for my 老友记 Ponyboy Curtis, Johnny Cade, Two-Bit Mathews, and Steve Randle. we were going to school together. i impatiently tapped my foot. if they didnt hurry up, we were gonna be late. the cool, light, September breeze kicked my long, golden brown hair around. i pushed it outta my face. i looked at my watch. "damn 你 guys!" we were definatley gonna be late. and it was gonna be all because of them! the damn greasers cant ever hurry in the morning, worrying about their hair and all. they spend at least an 小时 combing it! they always carry combs in their back pockets and fix their hair at least fifty times a day. they were obssesed.

im a middle-class girl, not a greasy girl. 你 may think its a little odd that im 老友记 with greasers, but lots of middle-class teens are 老友记 with greasers. one of my friends, Susan Hinton, is 老友记 with them. shes middle-class. some her closest 老友记 are those types of guys. so are mine. my closest 老友记 are a part of the Curtis, Cade, Winston, Mathews, and Randle gang. i 爱情 those guys like they are my own family.

but my parents dont approve that im 老友记 with them. they say they are "no count hoods who are dumb and violent." but thats not true. these guys are the sweetest ones ive ever met.

i should probably explain what a greaser is. a greaser is almost like a hood. they steal things and drive old, souped-up cars and rob gas stations. they are violent and dirty and they swear alot. at least, thats what the stereotype says. greasers wear blue jeans and t-shirts and boots 或者 Converse. and sometimes, if their t-shirt is tucked in, they leaved their shirttails out. they grease their long hair, hence, their label. their rivals are the Socs, short for "Socials." Socs orriginate from Tulsa, Oklahoma, where we live. Socs arent really anywhere else besides here. i guess that makes Tulsa special. Socs are rich, unlike greasers, who are poor. they drive fancy cars and wear fancy clothes like madras shirts 或者 Varcity Letterman Jackets, which arent really fancy...anyway, and other things like kahki pants and 羊毛衣, 羊毛衫 sweaters. Socs are the worst, in my opinion. i like greasers better. Socs are violent teenagers. they like 啤酒 blasts and river-bottom parties and, most of all, jumping greasers. they beat up my 老友记 and, boy, 你 can believe that makes me mad. a while ago, my friend Johnny Cade got jumped and he looked real bad. i wanted to beat those Socs' heads in.

i sat down on my porch's bench and set my 图书 down 下一个 to me. i rested my head on my hand, which was resting on my knee, and huffed. come on, guys, i thought. the reason i wasnt leavin for school without them was cause they made me promise to never go without them. it would waste them drivin to my house.

i suddenly saw an old Ford cruisin down the street. i grabbed my books, jumped off the bench, and ran to the car, which was Two-Bit's. i jumped in the backseat and sat 下一个 to Ponyboy and Johnny. "alright, who had a hair crisis this time?" i asked.

"ha ha, very funny, Amber," Two-Bit 说 to me. i laughed. "yeah, just keep makin your little greaser jokes."

"i will." we quickly drove off. i turned to Ponyboy. he was 15. his birthday had just hit in July, about two months ago. mine had just hit last month, which made me 14. me and 小马 werent in the same grades, i was a sophmore (cause i had skipped a grade) and he was a junior (he had skipped one too) but we had some classes together. i was in advanced english, with Mr. Syme, like Ponyboy (for some odd reason 小马 had gotten Mr. Syme for english again, when he had already had him last year).my advanced class was his regular class. and then we also had lunch together. all five of us. how ironic.

i had a lot of classes with Johnny. we were in the same grade. Johnny was 16, going to be 17 in March. since he failed a grade and i skipped one we had a lot of the same classes. he was still a sophmore, when he should be a junior, like Ponyboy and Two-Bit.

i stared at Ponyboy. he was a really cute guy. really good-lookin. but he didnt believe me, 或者 anyone else, when i told him. when it came to his looks, he was insecure. he had reddish-brown hair that was long, like most greasers, and greensih-grey eyes. i loved his eyes. they were so beautiful and deep.

judging 由 some of the things i am sayin about Pony, 你 can probably tell i like him. well, i do. i really like him. i pratically 爱情 him. we had so many things in common; we both liked to read, write, want to become writers when we get older, 爱情 sunsets and sunrises, like readin poetry, are deep, and are talented at so many things (not to sound concited 或者 anything. im anything but concited...). we have a lot in common. not to sound crazy 或者 obssesed 或者 anything but...i even made a list. im almost at 60 things. im insane. except, i dont think 小马 knew i liked him, and i planned to keep it that way. i dont even think he liked me back. sometimes, it sucks bein in love.

you
youve got this hold on me
dont wanna be set free
so keep me 安全 and sound right here with you
youve got this hold on me
and i am yours to keep
we'll lock ourselves away from everything
cause 你 got this hold on me

we arrived at school, and not a moment too soon. i went throughout the day, counting the periods until i could see Ponyboy. durin most of my classes i didnt really pay attention. i mostly doodled in my notebook; things like Mrs. Ponyboy Curtis 或者 Ponygirl 或者 i 爱情 Ponyboy. then i would draw hearts 或者 玫瑰 或者 other girly things. dont get me wrong, im not a very girly...girl. im 更多 of a tomboy. i just do some girly things.

finally, fifth period came around, which was when i had english with Ponyboy. i rushed into that class like there was no tomorrow and sat in my 座位 that was planted 下一个 to his. he noticed me hurrying to sit down and remarked, "in a hurry to write?" i looked at him and smiled.

"yeah," i said. then i mumbled, "thats why." the 钟, 贝尔 rang and Mr. Syme walked into the room. stood behind his 台, 办公桌 and looked through some papers. when he finished he looked at the class.

"now," he said, "as 你 may remember, 你 were all supposed to go 首页 and write a poem on the topic of your choice. we are going to share then in front of the class. who would like to go first?" no one raised their hand. then i saw Ponyboy lift his the slightset bit. i stared at him. he rarely ever raised his hand, just like me. we were quiet people. "ah, Ponyboy," Mr. Syme started, "come on up."

i watched 小马 as he slowly walked up to the front of the class. i heard giggles from the many Socs and Socys in that class. i hushed them sharply and they all turned to look at me. i sank in my 座位 and my face became hot. i looked at Ponyboy. he pulled a crumpled, folded piece of paper out of his back pocket and unfolded it. "this is called Never Know," he 说 and smirked at me. then he started to read his poem:

"'as the sun sets
the wind blows
then i think of her
and how she'll never know

"'trees and leaves
rustle in the breeze
i turn to her
and she makes me week in the knees

"'her eyes hold mine
everytime i dream
everytime i think
she blocks my thinking stream

"'ive dreamed about her
plently of times
but she'll never know
all i have are these rhymes'"

the whole class clapped. my clapping was the loudest. Mr. Syme turned to Ponyboy. "interesting, Ponyboy. what urged 或者 inspired 你 to write that?" 小马 suddenly turned red. he looked at the whole class and then stopped when he looked at me. my 心 stopped. he replied while he stared at me, "a--a special somone, i guess." he walked and sat back down in his seat. the Soc that was sitting 下一个 to him leaned to him and said, "such a deep greaser." the whole class erupted in giggles. not me.

"Amber," Mr. Syme called to me. my attention snapped to him and my 心 started beating fast. i didnt really like 阅读 things in front of bis groups of people. it made me nervous. but, if Ponyboy can do it, so can i. "youre next." i gulped and hesitantly walked up to the front of the room. i took my poem out of my front jeans pocket (yes, i wear jeans, like greasers) and unfolded it. i was about to read the 标题 when i stopped. i couldnt do it. i stared at the class. then i saw Ponyboy. he knew about my fear of public speakin but didnt mind it. he had a small smile on his face and nodded at me. he was sayin you can do it. i smiled at him and read what was scrawled on the paper:

"this is calledMy Outsider."

"'dreams are all i have
sad, aint it?
dreams are all i keep
and i dont like it one bit

"'i mean, dont get me wrong
i like dreams
but when they become all i have
i just want to scream

"'i cant ever hold him when i want to
hes my unreal reality
the one im always with
the one who grew up on the outside of society'"

the class clapped. Ponyboy the loudest. i smiled and turned to Mr. Syme. "i liked that, Amber. the way your words flowed and how 你 sounded like yourself. what inspired you?" i blushed.

"uh..." i didnt really want to say it, so i just 说 something that was close: "uh...a--an outsider." the class clapped again. i quickly strided back to my 座位 and sank in it. i wouldnt look at Ponyboy. he probably knew it was about him. i couldnt look at him.

when theres nothing left to say
will 你 still be listening?
will 你 help me stand up straight
when im bent and breaking?

at lunch me, Pony, Johnny, Two-Bit, and Steve took Two-Bit's car and drove over to a greaser hangout, which was a grocery store. we bought 糖果 bars and Cokes and sat and talked for out lunch hour. that was usually what lunch was like. "so," Ponyboy 说 to me as i munched on my 糖果 bar and gulped down my Coke, "who was the poem 你 wrote really about?" i stared at him casually.

"i already 说 it. an outsider," i said. he kinda chuckled and replied, "what outsider?" i looked at my watch. i leaped up and all the boys stared at me.

"oh, look at that, lunch's almost over. we better be gettin back!"

you
youve got this hold on me
dont wanna be set free
so keep me 安全 and sound right here with you
youve got this hold on me
we'll lock ourselves away from everything
cause 你 got this hold on me

me and Ponyboy watched a sunset that night. he practically begged me to come watch it with him. so i came along. we sat in the vacant lot, his gang's hangout, and stared the beautiful sky. there were lots of 颜色 surrounding the golden sun. then i abruptly said, "it was you." 小马 turned to look at me. he had a quizzical look on his face.

"what was me?" he asked.

"the poem. it was about you. youre the outsider." Ponyboy looked into my eyes and smiled. then, suddenly, almost instantly, he kissed me. it was deep and passionate. when 小马 pulled away he 说 to me, "ya know, Amber. youve got this hold on me and i feel like i dont ever wanna be set free."

"youve got a hold on me too, Ponyboy." we watched the sunset in silence for the rest of that night. but while during the setting, 小马 slipped something in my lap. it was his poem.

"it was meant for you," he 说 sweetly.

"you wrote it for me?" he nodded. i took my poem outta my pocket too and handed it to him. he grabbed it and touched my hand. he didnt let go.

i had Ponyboy's poem. he had written it for me. i was gonna cherish ir forever. Ponyboy had this hold on me, and i didnt wanna be set free.


heres the link to the song thats featured in this one-shot:

link