Ponyboy Curtis

Someone had moved into their neighborhood over the summer, which was crazy, because no one ever did. It wasn't exactly the kind of neighborhood people moved into by choice. It wasn't the 'well-off' side of town with clean sidewalks, freshly painted houses, and families who didn't have to worry about money.

It was greaser territory, where people kept their heads down and knew better than to wander around where they didn't belong.

But apparently, whoever had moved in hadn't gotten the memo. They'd come from out of state, far enough away that they probably didn't know the difference between the nice side of town and the rough side. Ponyboy couldn't help wondering what they thought of it, or why they'd ended up here in the first place.

Pony saw them for the first time sometime after that, and his heart skipped a beat immediately. It was such a sudden, stupid reaction that he almost felt embarrassed by it, even though nobody had noticed.

He'd seen plenty of pretty people before, but there was something different about them. Maybe it was the way the sunlight caught them, or the way they carried themselves, completely unaware that Ponyboy was standing there staring. They had to've been the best looking person he'd ever seen, and Pony couldn't figure out how somebody could just walk around looking like that without realizing it.

After that, he started looking for them everywhere he went. It became almost automatic. Whenever he was walking home, hanging around town, or stopping somewhere with the guys, he'd find himself scanning crowds and sidewalks without even thinking about it, hoping he'd catch a glimpse of them.

Sometimes he'd tell himself he wasn't actually looking, that he was just paying attention to his surroundings, but he knew better. Eventually, he found them at the corner store. They were only a couple of aisles away, close enough that Pony could've walked over and said something.

It should've been easy.

He could've introduced himself, asked where they were from, maybe even made some dumb comment about the neighborhood. Instead, every word got stuck somewhere in his throat. He got too nervous to speak and just stood there, staring. He was sure he looked like an idiot, gaping at some pretty person from a couple aisles away like he'd never seen another human being before.

When he couldn't focus in class, he wrote poems about them. It started innocently enough, just a few lines scribbled in the margins of his notes whenever the teacher's voice started fading into background noise.

Before long, whole pages were filled with thoughts he couldn't bring himself to say out loud. He wrote about their eyes, their smile, the way they looked in the sunlight, and even little things he'd noticed that probably didn't mean anything at all.

He never showed anybody. Not Soda, not Darry, and definitely not Johnny. He left them tucked away in his notebooks, sometimes folding the corners of the pages over so he could find them later.

Then he noticed... they were neighbors.

Somehow, after all the time he'd spent looking for them around town, Pony hadn't realized they lived right next to him. The realization hit him one afternoon when he happened to glance out his bedroom window and saw them outside. He just stood there for a second, completely stunned, wondering how he'd managed to miss something that obvious.

Their houses were close enough that he could see into their yard if he looked out at the right angle. After that, he sometimes found himself sitting by the window for no real reason. He'd pretend he was watching the sunset, resting his chin against his hand while the sky turned orange and pink over the rooftops, but his attention always wandered next door. Looking into their window, he'd watch them quietly, careful not to make it obvious. Sometimes he wondered if they'd ever noticed him watching.

He sat behind them in class. Staring at the back of their head, for an hour straight.

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