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

September, 1967

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

i stood on my front porch and waited. waited. waited for my friends 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 anda 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 jam 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. anda may think its a little odd that im friends with greasers, but lots of middle-class teens are friends with greasers. one of my friends, Susan Hinton, is friends with them. shes middle-class. some her closest friends are those types of guys. so are mine. my closest friends are a part of the Curtis, Cade, Winston, Mathews, and Randle gang. i cinta those guys like they are my own family.

but my parents dont approve that im friends 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 atau 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 atau Varcity Letterman Jackets, which arent really fancy...anyway, and other things like kahki pants and cardigan sweaters. Socs are the worst, in my opinion. i like greasers better. Socs are violent teenagers. they like bir blasts and river-bottom parties and, most of all, jumping greasers. they beat up my friends and, boy, anda 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 buku down selanjutnya 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 selanjutnya to Ponyboy and Johnny. "alright, who had a hair crisis this time?" i asked.

"ha ha, very funny, Amber," Two-Bit berkata 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 pony 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 pony 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, atau 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 oleh some of the things i am sayin about Pony, anda can probably tell i like him. well, i do. i really like him. i pratically cinta him. we had so many things in common; we both liked to read, write, want to become writers when we get older, cinta sunsets and sunrises, like readin poetry, are deep, and are talented at so many things (not to sound concited atau anything. im anything but concited...). we have a lot in common. not to sound crazy atau obssesed atau anything but...i even made a list. im almost at 60 things. im insane. except, i dont think pony 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 aman, brankas 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 anda 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 atau Ponygirl atau i cinta Ponyboy. then i would draw hearts atau mawar atau other girly things. dont get me wrong, im not a very girly...girl. im lebih 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 kursi that was planted selanjutnya 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 bel, bell rang and Mr. Syme walked into the room. stood behind his meja tulis, meja and looked through some papers. when he finished he looked at the class.

"now," he said, "as anda may remember, anda were all supposed to go halaman awal 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 pony 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 kursi 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 berkata 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 atau inspired anda to write that?" pony suddenly turned red. he looked at the whole class and then stopped when he looked at me. my jantung 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 selanjutnya 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 jantung started beating fast. i didnt really like membaca 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 judul 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 anda sounded like yourself. what inspired you?" i blushed.

"uh..." i didnt really want to say it, so i just berkata something that was close: "uh...a--an outsider." the class clapped again. i quickly strided back to my kursi 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 anda still be listening?
will anda 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 permen bars and Cokes and sat and talked for out lunch hour. that was usually what lunch was like. "so," Ponyboy berkata to me as i munched on my permen bar and gulped down my Coke, "who was the poem anda wrote really about?" i stared at him casually.

"i already berkata 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 aman, brankas and sound right here with you
youve got this hold on me
we'll lock ourselves away from everything
cause anda 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 warna surrounding the golden sun. then i abruptly said, "it was you." pony 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 pony pulled away he berkata 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, pony slipped something in my lap. it was his poem.

"it was meant for you," he berkata 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