This is an AU. Please keep that in mind and enjoy! feel free to discuss anything with me in a review or PM.

Okay wow so sorry about all the errors, hope I made things less confusing, I was doing homework at the same time and didn't check it before I posted. Big thanks to ExtraOrdinary Outsider for the fav/follow and review letting me know it was confusing!


Dust was thrown into the air behind the 1940 Ford Coupe as the driver swerved off the highway and onto the soft shoulder that ran alongside the road. The lurch the car gave when it hit the much softer dirt was what woke the young man behind the wheel.

"Fuck!" he hissed when the steering wheel tried to fight him as he merged back onto the asphalt. He hadn't meant to fall asleep; he sure scared himself half to death though that was for certain. His stomach felt like ice and he didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he gasped for air as the Coupe finally stopped jerking as both tires made traction again.

He dropped his speed some as he focused on calming down, ignoring the Chevrolet behind him as the driver made a show of speeding past him flipping the bird as he went.

"Jesus," he panted wiping at the sweat dripping into his eyes; the breeze from the rolled down windows didn't cut through the heat much. He knew from experience from the day before that it wouldn't be cooling down until the sun started to set.

Oklahoma was hot like that, had he known just how hot it was he would have had reconsidered taking a job down there. But he needed the money, so it figured there'd be some sacrifices to be had.

He'd run out of coffee a good two hours before he got into Tulsa, the Coupe was nearly empty as he drove into the town. It was definitely more rural than some of the places Ponyboy had worked in Rochester. The buildings in Tulsa seemed to carry as much character as the people that walked along its streets. Hell he was hardly three miles in, searching for a gas station, and he'd already seen more greasers on the stretch of road he was on than he'd seen on any of the Rodeo grounds he'd worked on back home combined.

It was a diamond shaped sign that said DX Station that stood out like a god-send as his car sputtered, threatening to die at any given moment. The road weary teen didn't hesitate to pull next to a free tank.

Paying mind to slide on a black dusty Stenson over his wild auburn hair before he got out of the Coupe, he killed the engine and walked towards the small store next to the pumps. He hadn't had a haircut in a long time; you could tell by the way it settled in sweaty tufts along the back of his neck, almost reaching the collar of his white t-shirt. Without the hat his bangs would sweep into his eyes, the rest would settle along his jaw as it was too short to stay behind his ears or be kept back in a knot.

The spurs on his boots clicked against the tile as he walked in, he could have moaned at the feeling of air-conditioning hitting him. Looking around there wasn't much inside the store for sale; just a magazine rack on the far left wall, and a rack on the right wall that had things he didn't need, like soaps, combs, and other toiletries. There was a few candy bars too but he wasn't hungry. He headed towards the fridge next to the counter straight ahead; behind the glass you could see it was filled with beers, sodas, and water.

He swung the door open and snagged a Pepsi and put it on the counter along with a nickel. The greaser behind the counter had been watching him since he'd walked in; to be honest he was probably the most handsome guy Pony had ever seen before.

No older than seventeen, he had dark gold hair that was long and greased back, and the kind of face that'd you see on a movie star, not a gas station store clerk. Though judging by the grease on his shirt he probably worked on the cars too but still.

He had reckless brown eyes, almost wild, like a stallion's.

But there was something in them also that was different, more genuine, like he could see right through you, see what troubled you, he'd never seen eye's like that on somebody.

"Say I ain't had many cowpoke in here before, you new to Tulsa?" His shirt had the DX diamond sewn onto the breast, and he was leaning against the counter watching the young cowboy with interest.

"Yea, just got in today." He said as he snagged his Pepsi off the counter. The greaser looked like he was going to say more but he'd already started to walk back out of the store before he managed a sentence. Pony didn't like the feeling he had around that guy, the way he looked at him, like he was a kid. Sure he was young, but he'd been growing up fast.

He needed to be tough for his brother Johnny so he didn't always have to look out for him. He also needed to be tough for himself, he wasn't sure how he'd manage that talking to that greaser.

There was another guy in a DX shirt filling up the Coupe as he walked back into the muggy heat. This greaser's dark hair was artfully swirled, it was a wonder just how he'd managed to get his hair to do that.

"Tuff ride." The guy told him as he came up to the car, although he was pretty sure the comment was meant to be snide seeing as the Coupe's red paint had long since faded and was now a combination of a matte light red and rust, not even all the tires matched either. The right rear one was white, well, it was white once.

He ignored the greaser in favor of his soda, twisting the cap off with his shirt he brought it to his mouth, suddenly much more aware of how parched he really was.

"What's with the getup?" The guy gave him an odd look.

"Ain't from 'round here," Pony answered in between swigs of Pepsi, trying not to cough at the tingle the carbonation left in his throat. He never did like soda much; he was more of a milk, tea, or coffee kind of guy. Mainly milk though.

"No foolin'. Where you comin' from then cowboy?" the greaser asked him.

"New York. Used to work in a rodeo outside of Rochester, needed better money and there's a guy down here that's offering me a job. So here I am." He didn't mind talking to this hood, unlike the other one; he felt like he could keep his secrets with him as they conversed.

"Who's the fella hiring you?"

"Don't really know, some rich guy, signs his letter's with J. Holden. I'm supposed to train a new Thoroughbred of his."

"You're workin' for a Soc, I'd watch out if I were you." He said 'Soc' like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Money's money man. I don't care who it comes from as long as I'm getting' paid." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Yea well, kid like you running around the South side, you're askin' to get jumped."

"I can handle it," the younger teen sounded offended, but the greaser either didn't notice or didn't care. It was likely the latter though.

"Sure you can," he brushed him off before taking the nozzle out of the Coupe and putting it back up on the pump.

"Looks like we're done here kid, gas is gonna be five bucks." He said turning to face him, his shirt was liberally smudged with grease and god-knows what else.

"Say I didn't catch your name," The greaser said as he leaned against the pump with his arms crossed, watching as Ponybody was counting out the money in coins, placing the nickels and dimes in one dollar groups on the hood of the Coupe.

"Never told ya, but people back home call me Ponyboy. Pony for short."

"Ponyboy? What kind of name is that?" Whether he was bewildered or hysterical, Pony didn't turn care to check.

"Just what people call me; I'm good with horses so I figure it comes from that." He scooped the coins off the hood once he counted them out and handed it over to the greaser, who was laughing still.

"Right, well see ya around then Ponyboy," the greaser said, shoulders shaking as he went inside the DX no doubt to tell his co-worker.

Ponyboy left his half-finished Pepsi on top of the pump and left, he was so tiered his bones were hurting and he still needed to find this 's house. Preferably before dark seeing as only one of his headlights worked and he didn't want a ticket.


He noticed as the further west in the city he drove the better the buildings became, taller, newer, and brighter. It was hard to miss really, but all he could really think was how some guy had a ranch out in a crowded place like that, it wouldn't be right for the horses that was for sure.

Looking back every now and again to the letter he'd tucked into his jeans, that held the directions to Holden's house, he'd realized he'd passed the house.

A few minutes later he was parking the Coupe in front of a two-story home that had two brick columns in the front, he grabbed his duffle bag and got out just as a middle aged man was opening the door.

He had on a nice button up shirt, and khaki pants. His leather loafers were so well shined they were painful to look at, shoes like that must have cost a lot. He was no older than forty, his blonde hair was thin and greying, he had deep laugh lines, and crow's feet framed brown eyes. He seemed like an okay guy, much kinder faced than Pony's own father. But then again just about anyone was nicer than his dad.

"Ah Michael was it? I'm Jim," the man smiled holding out his hand.

"Yes sir, nice to meet ya, I go by Ponyboy though. Pony for short," Pony told him as shook the man's hand briefly before he followed him inside the house. A staircase was the first thing he saw as he took his boots off at the door, he could see a kitchen in the room behind it and a living room was to the left of the entry way.

"That's quite a name you've got there."

"It's what everyone back home calls me, I don't mind it." Pony said before he switched the opic, asking about the horses.

As he soon found out Holden's ranch wasn't in the city. He'd told Pony that he owned property over by the race track which made more sense than having a barn in the upper suburban area he lived in. It put Pony's mind at ease knowing that the horses had some place more rural to live. He'd seen how bad they could get treated when they lived cooped up in the city, he'd had to put down a few horses that'd gotten real bad in the first few years he'd joined the Rochester Rodeo.

"I wasn't expecting someone so young; I thought your boss said you were sixteen?"

"Not even close. I'm fourteen he must have gotten me confused with another kid, it happens sometimes."

"I don't see how you could get somebody that goes by Ponyboy mixed up with anybody else. Are you in school then Ponyboy?" Jim was leading him upstairs, and by golly Pony's legs didn't appreciate it.

"Pony's fine," he corrected "I go when I can, work's been busy though so," he shrugged before realizing the man couldn't see the gesture.

"Some things are like that huh? There's a room for you in the tack room, but for now you can stay in my son's room. His name is Paul, he's in college, you should meet him tomorrow if he's around." He held open a door to one of the rooms placed on the far left hallway that branched off from the staircase; another hallway branched off to the right. If he had to guess it was probably the master suite and a bathroom seeing as there was only two doors along that hallway.

Paul's room was, well, needless to say it was bigger than the room he'd shared with Johnny back home.

"There's a bathroom behind the door on your left, my wife should be home to start dinner soon, she's excited about meeting you, feel free to join us if you're hungry son." Jim said with a smile.

"Actually mister I was just gona get some sleep if that's alright with you. It was a long drive." He told Jim, his attention was full center on the full sized mattress pressed up against the wall.

"That's fine Pony, have a good night then," the man said with another smile before shut the door gently.

Pony just dropped his bag in the middle of the room, turned off the lights, and was out as soon as his aching body hit the sheets.


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