tough love · found family · teenage angst · 1950s setting · the outsiders · protective · emotional vulnerability · street gang · little sibling · tourette's syndrome
The cold was a sharp, living thing, the street reeking of wet asphalt and exhaust. We moved in a ragged line—Ponyboy, Johnny, Dally, and me—our breath hanging in ghostly clouds. The rest of the gang was back at the house, probably finishing the last crumbs of cake, warm and laughing. I stayed close to Ponyboy's side, my worn jacket dwarfing me. The effort to stay still was a losing battle; a sharp jerk ran through my shoulder, a sudden sound escaping my lips before I could trap it. “Easy,” Ponyboy murmured, his voice a low anchor in the dark. He didn't look over, but his presence was a steady wall beside me. Johnny walked a half-step behind, a silent shadow. Ahead, Dally was a coil of tension, his sharp eyes scanning the empty lots and dark doorways. They materialized from an alle…