𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚎'𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜

Last chapter guys! WOOHOOOO

3rd POV

February 15, 1966

The diner was filled with low chatter, plates clinking and neon lights flickering softly against the windows, showing everything in that warm glow that made nights feel slower than they really were. The gang had taken over their usual booth in the back, squeezed close like always, shoulders brushing, elbows bumping, but tonight something sat different in the middle of it all.

Y/n.

She sat between them, quieter than usual, her fingers tracing the edge of a napkin over and over again without realizing how abnormal that seemed, her gaze drifted every so often like her mind kept slipping somewhere else, somewhere back to last night, back to the bleachers, back to something unfinished that didn't sit right no matter how much she tried to ignore it.

Sodapop noticed first. He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table, his expression softer than usual as he watched her for a moment too long before finally speaking, his voice gentle but not light. "You've been quiet."

She blinked, pulled back into the moment, glancing at him, and realized she was being watched. "I'm always quiet."

"Nah," he said, shaking his head, a small smile tugging at his lips but not quite reaching his eyes, "not like this."

That was enough to shift the atmosphere enough that the others drifted their attention toward her. "I'm fine," she repeated, trying to sound casual with the same tone. Soda didn't lean back, didn't drop it, didn't let it slide like he usually would.

"You don't gotta keep sayin' that," he said, softer now, his brows furrowing just slightly, "we can tell when you're not."

Y/n looked down at her hands for a second, then back up, forcing a small shrug like it didn't matter. "It's nothing, really."

Soda exhaled, running a hand through his hair, something restless in the movement like he didn't know how to leave it alone even if he tried. "It's him, isn't it?" he said, a little more serious now. "From last night."

That caught everyone.

Ponyboy shifted slightly, his shoulders straightening. Johnny's attention sharpened instantly, his eyes flicking toward her. Dally stilled just enough to show he was listening even if he didn't look like it. Two-bit leaned back like he just got handed front row seats to watch an interesting movie, one brow raised. Steve looked at them, darting his eyes back and forth as he saw the two still and drowned in the tension of the moment.

Y/n didn't answer, but the silence said enough.

Soda's jaw tightened, his hands pressing flat against the table like he needed something solid to hold onto. "I don't like that he even came near you," he said, faster now, less filtered, "after everything he just sits there like he can fix it with a few words like it didn't matter, like you didn't—"

"Soda," she started, a little thrown off by the edge in his voice.

"No, I mean it," he pushed on, shaking his head, frustration slipping through easier now, "he doesn't get to do that, he doesn't get to act like it's nothing, like you're supposed to just hear him out and be okay with it, I hate that he even gets that chance—"

He stopped, just for a second. "I just..." he ran a hand through his hair again, letting out a breath like he hadn't meant to go this far but couldn't stop now, "I hate seein' you like that, alright? I hate that he gets in your head at all because you—" he hesitated, glancing down before forcing himself to look back up, his voice quieter now but heavier, "because I like you... more than I probably should."

Silence.

Y/n blinked, completely caught off guard, her fingers going still against the napkin.

Sodapop looked like he realized what he said a second too late, his expression shifting into something awkward, like he couldn't take it back even if he wanted to.

Two-bit let out a low whistle, leaning back with a grin that was way too pleased for the situation. "Well damn, Romeo finally tripped over his own feelings."

Soda shot him a look. "Shut up."

"Oh I ain't sayin' nothin', I'm just enjoyin' the show," Two-bit said, holding his hands up like he wasn't involved, even though he absolutely was.

Ponyboy, who hadn't laughed at all, shifted slightly, voice cutting through anyway. "Like you're any better."

Two-bit's grin faltered just a little. "Hey now—"

"You like her too," Pony said, not even looking at him, just stating it like it was obvious.

Two-bit huffed, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to play it off but not denying it either. "Man, you just love throwin' people under the bus, don't you?"

"You didn't say no," Pony replied, glancing at him now.

Two-bit rolled his eyes, then sighed like he was giving in to something inevitable. "Yeah, alright, fine, I like her," he admitted, pointing a finger across the table, "but I had a way cooler plan for sayin' it, not this whole... thing we got goin' on."

Johnny shifted beside them, clearly caught in the middle of something he didn't want to make bigger, but his eyes flicked toward her anyway, lingering just long enough.

Dally caught that immediately. He let out a short, dry chuckle, leaning back slightly, arms crossing as he looked between all of them. "What is this, some kinda confession contest?" he muttered, shaking his head. "You all line up or somethin'?"

Y/n's breath caught slightly as she looked between them, the weight of it all settling heavier by the second.

Ponyboy spoke again, quieter this time, but steadier than before. "I like her too."

Johnny swallowed, glancing down before speaking, his voice softer, almost hesitant but still there. "Yeah... me too."

The table fell quiet again, but now it wasn't just tension. It was everything all at once.

"If we are all confessin', then I do too." Steve said, leaning on the vinyl booth.

Dally rubbed his jaw slightly, looking away for a second before speaking, his tone rough but not careless. "You all actin' like this is news," he muttered, then glanced back at her. "she ain't exactly hard to like."

Darry stayed quiet, leaning back at the edge of the booth, arms crossed, his gaze steady, not chasing the same thing the others were, not adding to the pile, just watching, his focus flickering to her, then away, then back again like he was measuring something else entirely.

He didn't say a word, just watched as everything unwrapped and waited for what was to come next.

And in the middle of it all—Y/n sat frozen, her mind racing, her chest tight, heart pounding, her eyes moving from one to the other, trying to process what had just happened, what they had just said, how everything had shifted in a matter of minutes without warning.

Sodapop, Two-bit, Ponyboy, Johnny, Steve and Dally. All of them were looking at her–waiting.

And the worst part—she didn't know what to say.

At least, not yet.