this is Ponyboy, Dally, and Johnny (in order from left to right) i accidentaly meet them at Dairy Hut when i go and get an ice cream!
*Meet Me at Dairy Hut*
Illinois
June, 2012
when i stepped through the door of the closest Dairy Hut near my town in my white Converse shoes and jean veste i had only two things on my mind: The Outsiders book and movie and Ponyboy Curtis. i l’amour that book and i l’amour that movie. but i was mostly rêverie about Ponyboy Curtis, the main character. i l’amour him to death. i would die for him. i would kill to get him...maybe. he is sensitive and sweet and he digs sunsets! hes perfect. hes the perfect greaser, which is what he is. he has reddish-brown hair, greenish-grey eyes, a good build, and a dreamy smile. hes VERY dreamy, just like his smile. hes the dreamiest greaser in the whole world...no, universe.
i snapped out of my reverie when i saw three loud boys charge through the door. my stomach suddenly did a flip and i got shivers that ran up and down my body. i started to shake and my body got weak. why was i feeling this way? that only happened when something is about to happen ou i just realized something important. and i think something was going to happen.
the boys started to walk over to the line i was standing in and i got a good look of their faces. there was a tall, muscular boy with long blonde hair and icy-blue eyes. then a boy with darkly tanned skin and jet-black hair and, strangely, black eyes. and then a boy with reddish-brown, long hair, a good build, and greenish-grey eyes. i did a double-take when i saw him. and all their heads of hair, except for the blonde boy, was slicked back with hair grease. i stood La Reine des Neiges as they walked into the line to stand behind me. the blonde boy was talking to the other two. "We came all the was from Tulsa to find THIS town? what is with this place? the clothes, the cars, the stores and resturants? what the hell? and wheres all the greasers, man?" youve gotta be kidding me. was he for-real? i didnt turn around. i was too scared. then the blonde boy cut in front of me. i didnt do anything. i just stood there staring at him as he stared at me. oh, boy, oh, boy. i must be dreaming. this boy had an eerie resemblence to a character named Dallas Winston in The Outsiders. except his gang and everyone else calls him Dally. and the black haired boy looks a lot like Johnny Cade in the book. cautious and fearful and adorable Johnny Cade. and, dare i say it? the reddish-brown haired boy looked exactly like...Ponyboy. Ponyboy Curtis. my favori greaser. and he was looking at me with his melting green eyes.
"How's it goin', baby?" the blonde asked me. i blushed a little and looked away. no boy has ever called me that. not one. he reached for my hair and started messing with it. i pulled it out of his hand and stepped back a little, only to step on the black haired boy's foot. i quickly jumped off of it and turned around.
"i'm sorry," i said. he didnt say anything. he just smiled a bit and nodded his head. i turned back around to face the blonde. he was smiling and chuckling quietly.
"So what are toi doing here?" he asked me. i didnt answer. i just couldnt speak right now. i guess the only things i could say were apologies. he looked like he was getting impatient so he pressed on, getting dirtier and dirtier par the minute.
"So toi dress like a greaser, pants and Converse, but not like a greasy girl. so how can i figure out if toi ARE a girl?" i didnt say another word. wow. i was NEVER spoken to like that. not even par my perverted guy-friends. and they are pretty perverted. i looked around me. the black haired boy wasnt looking at me, only at the ground. but the brown haired boy was. he was staring at me. he looked a little sad. almost as if he pittied me for being the blonde boy's target of dirtiness. blondey grabbed my waist and he pulled me into him. i stuggled to get free.
"get your hands off of me!" i said. but he didnt. he didnt stop. the brown haired boy stepped in.
"quit it, Dal," he said. but the boy he called "Dal" didnt stop. and i kept trying to push him away. he finally stopped and he looked at me.
"you know," i a dit to him out of complete randomness. "you look alot like Dally Winston from The Outsiders." he looked baffled and so did his friends.
"What are toi talking about?" he asked. "i AM Dally Winston. and whats The Outsiders?" i looked at the boy that resembled Ponyboy. he looked like he knew what i was talking about. strangely. his eyes were wide with shock and disbelief.
"its a book about a greaser named Ponyboy Curtis and his greaser gang. wait, what do toi mean youre"--but blondy cut me off.
"a BOOK? toi like books? hey, Pony, this girl's like you. she likes BOOKS!" i rolled my eyes. i got that alot. so what if i like books? people find it SO surprising for some reason.
"cut it out, Dally. who gives a damn?" i looked at him and smiled. thank you, i thought. but it spooked me that he called blondy Dally. what in the hell is happening here?
"what do toi mean 'Dally'?" i asked him. "he aint Dally Winston. thats a character in a book and a movie. and so is Ponyboy Curtis and Johnny Cade if youre gonna talk about them." i was getting weird looks. i started to laugh.
"oh," i a dit and pointed at the brown haired boy. "and i suppose, since he thinks hes Dally"--i pointed at blondy--"then toi think youre Ponyboy Curtis and"--i pointed at the black haired boy--"YOU think youre Johnny Cade. but i have to admit, toi guys have an eerie resemblence towards them." no one a dit anything. they just stared...at me.
"what?" i asked, a little nervouse. i was beginning to feel self-conciouse. i didnt like it when people stared at me.
"youre talkin' shit," blondy said. "what do toi mean we THINK? we KNOW. we know who we are. i know i'm Dally Winston. he knows hes poney Curtis. he knows hes Johnny Cade. we know who we are." i started to stutter. i wasnt feeling too hot.
"w-what do toi mean?" i asked. "thats n-not...thats not possible. toi cant be who toi think toi are. those boys are...fictional."
now i will explain what i a dit i would at the beginning/intro. alrite, how do i put this? S. E. Hinton wrote MOSTLY the truth. but not all of it. Johnny didnt die for what ever reason he died in the book for. and Dally didnt die cuz Johnny didnt die. she got that part wrong. but Johnny DID kill that Soc and they DID run away. Hinton just didnt get ALL of it right. (but thats not true. i'm just MAKING it that way :).) so do toi get it now? if not, just ask me some questions. and please l’amour AND COMMENT!!!!!!! and sorry it was so short.
here they are again, sitting on a car
here they are..again, holdin ice creams (except Dally)
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 plus 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 toi and Mom meet?” The 12 an old asked.
“I bet it was an epic l’amour story.” Eight an old Rhett says sarcastically.
“Was Mommy pretty when toi 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 toi a lot.” (Y/N) grinned from the doorway.
Seventeen.
Seventeen bottles of bière I have drunk in the past 37 minutes.
Seventeen.
I pick up number eighteen, twist the casquette, cap off, and pour it down my throat. It’s tasteless.
I lean my head back against the mur 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 l’amour 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 l’amour you.” I blurt out.
She looks surprised for a second. But then she grins.
“I l’amour toi too.”
“This was my mom’s,” he mutters. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will toi marry me?”
