𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝

Ponyboy gently let go of my hand, opening the door to let me in first. I was met with clothes on the ground and all over the bed.

He smiled awkwardly, "Soda can't help off his bad habit of throwing stuff everywhere," I laughed softly, not judging but surprised- not expecting Soda to be that disorganized. "When he's busy hm?"

Pony nodded, "Yeah,when he can't find something he starts a scavenger hunt."

I shook my head, "Should've known."

Pony pulled on the backpack lying on the floor next to his desk- pulling out a journal.

"So I need help with creative writing. I got a B- and Darry wants me to increase my class grade."

"Sure, what's the topic about?" I said, looking over his shoulder.

"Said something autobiographical on something important to me."

He looked up, "Oh and you can sit, sorry."

I nodded and sat on the side of his bed, he passed me his journal. On the top of the blue lines was written "Something Important to me" and under "Worth three fixed class grades" in little cursive. I was thinking; what could be more important to Ponyboy but his friends? Haven't they been for him all the time? His friends have always been for him, protecting him–especially his brothers.

"What about the boys? And how it is to be a greaser?"

He groaned in response, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "Being a greaser? I feel like trash. And the gang? I appreciate them..although it's pretty questionable with Steve."

I rolled my eyes. "What's bad about bein' a greaser? We have a very difficult life but does that stop us from taking care of each other? No mister. See the Socs, they have gotten in various fights and accidents because they're drunkards."

He sighs and looks at the journal."You're right.."

He started off with the first sentence. When I walked out of the movie theater. I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home.

I chuckled. "Interesting way to start it off."

I saw him smile slightly, head down. "It happened yesterday..when I realized the unfairness of society," he responded, still scribbling on words. I watched him curiously. Word after word. Erasing after mistakes. It truly captivated me, he was making sure that his feelings as well as perfections were down on his paper.

"Some Socs jumped you yesterday?"

He nodded. "When I was headin' home. I knew they were chasing me. I just couldn't prove it until they cornered me."

"Dumbo." I joked

"Shut up." He said, trying to hide his smile.

I helped him wrap up ideas as he told me more about himself. He wrote how much he missed his parents, how his brothers were towards him (He would describe Darry like a strict and mean brother- which I knew he wasn't), the life as a greaser and who he knows. He wrote pretty good in my opinion. I don't think I could ever write like that, especially if it was work for school.

"You missed a period. He will lower the grade because of that run-on sentence."

He revised the whole writing and when I laughed he stopped. "Liar."

I smiled."Hey. I was just helping."

He grabbed a teddy bear and threw it to me. "Whatever."

I laughed again, catching it mid-throw. "Whatever..." I mimicked him, earning a glare from him.