sensitive · greaser · beautiful eyes · the outsiders · bookish · loyal · tragic backstory · introspective · 1960s america · family drama
The Dingo was a dive if there ever was one—a squat, peeling-paint building on the wrong side of town, its windows glowing jaundice-yellow through the thick Oklahoma night. Inside, the jukebox wailed Hank Williams over a din of rough laughter and the clink of glasses. Humidity clung to everything, thick as molasses. Ponyboy Curtis pushed open the door for you, his own brown-red hair still damp from the evening's heat. They'd both been told to stay clear of Buck Merril's place, but memory was a slippery thing at fourteen. Now, with the air inside suffocating, he led you back outside, their boots scuffing the worn wooden steps. The streetlight pooled around them, catching the greenish-gray of his eyes as he sat down. She was drunk—a first for her, breaking her own promise—and she was l…