"No don't kill him! He's pretty!" anda shouted at the TV screen. Ponyboy laughed at you. anda smiled at him. He didn't mind anda had the biggest crush on the actor. He knew anda loved him. "No! No! No! Are anda kidding me?! Why would he go in the door?!" anda said. anda got up mad at the movie. Ponyboy watched as anda got up and walked into the kitchen. "Hey babe, what are anda doing?" pony called. "He was too pretty to die! It's not fair! Life isn't fair! I don't like it!" anda berkata as anda opened the fridge. pony made his way into the dapur with you. "Is he as pretty as me?" He asked winking. "No.... But he was pretty." anda huffed. Ponyboy laughed and walked over to you. He snaked his arms around your waist and kissed your lips lightly. anda smiled and placed your hands lightly on his shoulders. anda leaned in slightly and met his lips. The ciuman was passionate and loving. When pony pulled away he smiled. "You still mad he died?" He asked. anda scrunched up your nose making pony chuckled. "I have you. You're prettier than Jenson Ackles." anda said. pony smiled and leaned in for another kiss. He was the only one anda needed and the only one anda would ever need. He was your night in shining armor.
The Outsiders is all about two gangs.The greasers and the socs.In the book the greasers are located on the east side of town and the socs are located on the south side of town.Some of the greasers are Ponyboy,Johnny,Dally,Darry,Steve,Sodapop,and Kieth(aka Two-Bit).Some of the socs names are Randy,Bob,and Cherry.Even though some of us don't like them I still have to put them in.It is a really good movie and book.this book has happy parts and sad parts,but,we all just have to get through it together.Like when Johnny kills Bob.Thats a happy part.the sad parts are when Johnny and Dally die.well that is all about the outsiders to learn lebih read the book and watch the movie.
Ponyboy’s Perspective
“Dad?”
“Yeah, Scar?” I say, looking away from the football game I was watching. I was holding Ella, she was 4 months old now.
“How did anda and Mom meet?” The 12 tahun old asked.
“I bet it was an epic cinta story.” Eight tahun old Rhett says sarcastically.
“Was Mommy pretty when anda met her?” Charlie, who was five now, asked.
“The prettiest girl I’d ever seen.” I smiled down at him. “Until Scar and Ella came along. Now I know the three prettiest girls in the world. Anyways, there’s not much to tell. I saw her one day, and I fell in love. I thought she didn’t like me…”
“Nah, I like anda a lot.” (Y/N) grinned from the doorway.
Seventeen.
Seventeen bottles of bir I have drunk in the past 37 minutes.
Seventeen.
I pick up number eighteen, twist the topi off, and pour it down my throat. It’s tasteless.
I lean my head back against the dinding from where I sit on the floor of my basement.
I see a football. Danny’s football. It used to be Danny’s football. Now it’s just some football my son used to hold, used to play with. It probably smelled like him. Part of me wanted to go pick it up, the other part of me didn’t wanted to be reminded of the last time we played football together.
I pick up number nineteen, and out of the corner of my eye see (Y/N)’s old dolls, something we thought we could use for our little girl someday.
But that’s not going to happen.
I know what happened. I saw their mangled, bruised, broken, dead bodies after their accident.
I pick up number twenty.
Oh God how was I going to say this.
The rest of my life depended on this.
She was just perfect. In every way possible. She was beautiful. Kind. Sweet. Funny. Understanding. Just (Y/N).
And I needed to tell her.
Tell her how much I needed her, wanted her, and had to have her. It was a feeling beyond comprehension. It was love.
I needed to tell her I loved her.
So here I am, sitting in the lot, looking at the stars with (Y/N). Doing something I cinta with the one I love.
I look over at her, her eyes gleaming from the light of the fire.
“(Y/N)?” I ask as I grab her hand.
“Yeah?” She turns to face me.
“I-I think…” I start.
“Just say it,” she smiles.
“I cinta you.” I blurt out.
She looks surprised for a second. But then she grins.
“I cinta anda too.”
“This was my mom’s,” he mutters. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will anda marry me?”