Ponyboy's P.O.V.
I walked in the house from school to find no one home yet. So I guess I will get the mail. I opened the mailbox and walked to the kitchen. Junk mail bills junk mail ads bills draft letter bills. Wait what! Draft letter! I looked at it with disbelief and looked at who it was for. It said:
To: Mr. Ponyboy M. Curtis. Whoa whoa whoa! Me? Oh no what is darry and soda going to say? What about two-bit, dally, Johnny, and Steve. Please let this be a joke. Please. I sat on the floor crying my eyes out. I know what you're thinking greasers don't cry, but if you're about to go away from your brothers and friends I think you can cry.
Sodapop's P.O.V.
Darry, Steve, dally, two-bit, Johnny, and I walked in to hear crying from the kitchen. We all looked at each other worried and ran to the kitchen. There we found Ponyboy crying on the kitchen floor with a letter in his hands. I walked up to him and sat down rubbing his back to calm him down. When he finally calmed down I looked up to see the gang sitting on the floor with us. I finally asked the question we all wanted to know. "What's the letter pony …?" "M-m-my draft l-l-letter" he said during sobs.
3rd person P.O.V.
Steve, two-bit, darry, Johnny, dally, and sodapop stared at Ponyboy with sadness and worry. "Are you serious kid? You're not joking right? I mean come on this has to be a sick joke." Ponyboy shook his head no.