It was spring in Tulsa, Oklahoma, which meant rain. Lots of rain.

"C'mon, Pony!" I yelled to my boyfriend. "You gotta run faster or you'll be soaked!"

"Don't you think I know that?" he laughed, holding his backpack above his head.

The two of us had been walking home from school when, seemingly out of nowhere, it had started to downpour. Ponyboy had quickly handed me his jean jacket that he had had slung over his arm to hold above my head (much to my protest) and we both started to run. We usually walked to my house and he dropped me off, but in the particular situation we were in, we had decided that it would be a better idea to go to his house since it was closer.

"You can run faster than that!" I taunted as I ran a good 20 feet in front of him. "You're on the track team, for Pete's sake!"

"There're too many puddles and I don't wanna slip", he argued. I could hear the wet slaps of his shoes against the rain-clogged sidewalk as he caught up to me.

"And I do?" I cocked an eyebrow at him before readjusting my backpack strap on my shoulder.

We both kept running until we reached the Curtis house, bursting through the front door and getting some towels to wipe our feet off on and dry ourselves with.

Pony's greased-up hair had fallen limp from the precipitation and when he rubbed it with the towel, it stuck up in every direction, making me laugh.

"And what exactly is oh-so funny?" Pony questioned, cocking his head to the side.

"Just go in the bathroom and look in the mirror. You'll see for yourself", I chuckled, wiping down my arms.

After a moment, I heard a triumphant "Yes!" make its way through the house. Wondering what could be so exciting about Ponyboy's Einsteinesque hair-do, I made my way into the bathroom to see my boyfriend jumping up and down in jubilation.

"Everything good in here?" I asked hesitantly.

Pony turned to look at me before excitedly nodding his head. He practically ran over to me and held my shoulders.

"Guess what! Guess what! Guess what!", he exclaimed so rapidly that it all sounded like one word. He reminded me of a little kid.

I laughed at his excitement and put my hands on his shoulders to get him to stop jumping. "What? What happened?"

"Darlin', there's hair on my face! There is hair. On. My. Face."

I started hysterically laughing at his enthusiasm and almost disbelief in the fact that he was growing facial hair.

"Congratulations", I wheezed out between laughs. I leaned up and kissed Pony on the cheek.

He started doing a little dance, making me laugh even harder before pulling me out of the bathroom, along with him and jigging me around the living room. One of each of our hands were clasped together and his other one was wrapped tightly around my waist, covering one hipbone to the other. My arm was securely latched around his neck as he swung me around and my head was buried into his shoulder as I laughed.

It took a few minutes, but we eventually calmed down. As I wiped tears from my eyes I finally spoke.

"You know, I could've told you that you needed a shave, honey. You've been prickly for the past few days."

"Well, why didn't you tell me?" he exclaimed.

"I wanted you to figure it out for yourself", I chuckled, grabbing my backpack from the front door and bringing it into Pony and Soda's room.

"What're you doin'?" Pony asked from the doorway.

I shrugged. "If we're here we might as well get some homework done."

"This is what I get for havin' a smart gal as a girlfriend… Doin' homework on a Friday…", he sighed, but I knew he was kidding.

"Might I remind you that you skipped a grade like I did?" I shot back with a smirk.

"Fair point", Pony relented, going into the kitchen and grabbing his backpack before joining me in his room.

"What do you think they'll do about work?" I questioned. We both had work that day, me at the bookstore and him at the DX with Steve and Soda.

"I dunno about us, but I think that Darry'll be gettin' outta work soon."

"And why's that?"

"You do much roofing in the rain", he pointed out, smirking a little at me as he grabbed something off of his desk.

"I suppose", I said.

"Maybe we can get him to drive us to work", Pony suggested.

"I wouldn't wanna be a bother."

"You're not trouble and besides, if he gets pissed, I'll just say it was my idea, which it was."

"If you say so…", I trailed off, taking a textbook out of my bag.

Occupying myself with my history assignment, I barely even noticed Ponyboy go into the kitchen and turn on the radio. It was as though I was in my own little bubble of concentration and frustration at the fact that I didn't really care about General Sherman's march to the sea and that our book (of course) didn't have enough information on that particular subject.

When history was done I came out of my bubble to find Pony's pencil scratching on a piece of paper as he hummed along to "I'm a Believer" by The Monkees.

I started to hum along with him and grabbed a book for another subject.

When he noticed me humming along with him, he looked at me and gave me a small smile.

"What're you doing, anyway?" I questioned.

"I'm doin' that art project", he said.

The project required us to draw people who were important to us. There wasn't a limit on the number, but Ms. Thompson had said that 2 or more people would be preferable. Then we had to write a few sentences about why they were important to us. I was a pretty bad drawer, so I had been postponing doing the project since it had been assigned a few days before. Luckily, it wasn't due until after Spring Break.

"How's it goin'?"

"Pretty well."

"Who're you drawing?" I inquired, starting to take notes.

"Who do you think I'm drawing?" he asked.

"I dunno…Are you copying a picture of someone?"

"No", he laughed, "I'm drawing someone who happens to be sitting right next to me."

At this, I brought my head up to look at him, arching an eyebrow.

"You're drawing me?"

"Well, you're the only one that's sitting next to me", Pony laughed a little, grabbing a package of colored pencils.

I had seen some of Pony's drawings before and they were incredible. One that had really caught my attention was a pencil sketch of Dally. He was in the midst of one of his many angry moments, eyes hardened and body tense. You could see his icy blue eyes blazing even without them being colored in. I had seen him in that mood and all I could think of while looking at the drawing was when Pony, Two-Bit, and I visited Dally in the hospital before the rumble.

"Have you gotten very far?" I questioned.

"I already drew most of the outline, but I still have to do the details, so turn back to where you were and stay there", he said the last part jokingly, pretending to be stern.

"Yessir", I saluted and bent back over my notebook.

Pony snorted and went back to drawing. I soon became immersed in my bubble again, focusing on my work. Those questions were soon done too.

I sat up, cracking my back, knuckles, arms, and pelvic joint. My mom would have thrown a fit if she had been there. Especially since I was wearing a dress.

"Are you alright?" Pony asked, stopping his scribbling.

"Yeah", I answered, "why wouldn't I be?"

"Because a concerning number of cracks and pops just came from you."

I shrugged. "I was just stretching. When you're a dancer everything cracks. You should hear ballet class when we all go down into grand pliés. Just everyone's joints popping."

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion, but he just shook his eyes with a small smile playing on his lips.

Just then, the front door opened and the sound of Darry's work boots was heard.

Pony and I walked out of his room to greet Darry, who had just taken off his shoes and was drying off with one of the towels Pony had left by the door.

"Hey, Dar", Pony started, "how was work?"

"It was just fine 'til that damn downpour started. It was bright and sunny and just like that", he snapped his fingers for emphasis, "it was rainin' cats and dogs. I held out there for longer than any of the other guys, but then the boss had to tell me to go."

"Darry", Pony started again, "I wanted to know if you could drive me and Lily to work. Or I could do it if you can't."

Darry looked confused for a second before remembering that Ponyboy knew how to drive.

"But what if the fuzz catches you drivin' without a license?"

"Dar, d'you really think the fuzz is gonna care about me driving around? And besides, I'm over fifteen-and-a-half, which means that I can get my permit."

"But you don't have your learner's permit, Pony. You need to get tested for that."

"Then what would you suggest?" Pony asked with a sigh.

"Why don't we call up Two-Bit and ask him for a ride?"

"He went out on a date with Rachel", I explained. "If he hadn't went straight from school would've asked him for a ride instead of walking."

Darry sighed again. "Alright then, kids, I'll drive y'all."

"Are you sure it's not too much trouble?" I questioned hesitantly.

"Don't worry 'bout it, doll. It's no trouble at all."

I went back into Soda and Pony's room, shoving all my things back into my backpack. Pony walked in as I was doing this and grabbed his DX shirt from where it had been thrown over a bedpost. As we exited the room, Darry was putting a pair of worn-out Converse on that I had seen him wear before when the gang played football.

The three of us ran to Darry's truck and got in, me in the passenger's seat since I was being dropped of first. While we drove I fiddled with the sleeves of my sweater. After Angela and her gang had jumped me last summer I had started to prefer wearing longer sleeves to hide the scars on my arms. Only the gang, my family, and Ashlynn had seen my scars and they all knew not to mention them because of my self-consciousness. I had been wearing sweaters and sweatshirts in public, never exposing my arms. I didn't know what I would do during the summer when it was too hot to wear sleeves and when I might have to wear a bathing suit (I couldn't stand one-pieces, so bikinis were the only option), which also showed the huge scar that cut across my midriff.

"Darry, guess what happened today", Pony encouraged for an answer from the back seat.

"What happened, Little Colt?"

Darry's eyes flicked to look at Pony through the rearview mirror as he spoke then training them back on the road.

"I've got stubble, Dar."

Darry's eyes narrowed a little in confusion before widening in realization. He looked into the rearview mirror again.

"Really? You do?"

"Yep", Pony confirmed proudly, sitting up a little straighter in his seat.

"He's had it for the past few days", I laughed. "I just decided to let him figure it out on his own."

"Congratulations, Pony", Darry told him as a smile crept its way onto his face. "I'll teach you how to shave after you get back from work. Soda'll flip when you tell 'im."

"Yeah…", Pony smiled. Then he got a far away look in his eyes.

"Honey, you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah", Pony said again, though this time as a sigh. "It's…It's just…", he let out a breath, "I wish Dad were here."

I turned around in my seat to face Pony and grabbed his hand in mine.

"Y'know, Pone", Darry started, "he would'a loved to be here to see. you start shavin'. You're turnin' into a real man. A good man. You got yourself a gal, and a good one at that. Dad and Mom would be proud."

"You think so?"

"I know so", Darry answered with a sad smile.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Pony told me in the days that followed how much the gang teased him about his newfound facial hair. I couldn't help but find it amusing when I came over to his house during Spring Break and found him shaving in the bathroom with little pieces of toilet paper stuck to the places on his face where he had already succeeded in nicking himself with the razor.

"Hey, my big man", I greeted teasingly, leaning on the bathroom doorway.

"Hey, darlin'. How're you doin'?" he asked as he put the razor down on the sink counter and walking over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pecking me on the lips.

"Good. And you?" I questioned, wrapping my arms around his waist as well and looking up at him.

"Good", Pony answered. He then dipped a finger in the shaving cream on his face and dotting it on my nose.

I arched an eyebrow.

"Was that really necessary?"

"Yes, yes it was."

He pecked my lips again before going over to the sink and continuing his shaving escapade.

"How's that drawing going?" I asked as I wiped the shaving cream off my nose.

"I finished it on Saturday", he responded, running the razor carefully along his jaw in an attempt to avoid any further injury. "You can go look if you want. It's on my desk."

I took advantage of his offer and went into his and Soda's room, picking the sketchpad off of the desk.

The drawing was amazing. It was drawn while I was in my little bubble. I was sitting cross-legged on Pony's bed and kind of hunched over the books on my lap. All the details that could have possibly been in the picture were there from the shorter pieces of hair tucked behind my ears to the folds in my dress to my ponytail (my mom had cut my hair again a few days previous by a few inches) to my necklace and ring. Places that had shadows were shaded and I was colored in. A head-on view of my face wasn't visible, but most of it could be seen.

"Whaddya think?"

I jumped about a foot in the air and gasped in surprise at Pony's sudden voice. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"You're face feels much better when it's not prickly", I commented as he nuzzled his face into my neck. Luckily, he had taken the little bits of toilet paper off his face.

"Thanks", he laughed. "So, what do you think about the drawing?"

"It's incredible, honey", I said.

Turning my head to look at him, I saw his cheeks and ears turning red at the praise.

"Thanks, darlin' ", Pony responded shyly.

Shaking my head and smiling a little at his sudden timidity I gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"C'mon, Horseman", I teased, "I need to draw you too."

I had brought my drawing materials in a small bag, though I hadn't just come over to the Curtis house to draw Pony. I had kind of hoped that I would be able to do some of the project whole I was there, though.

This should go well, I thought to myself sarcastically.

We sat on the couch and my exhausted attempts at drawing an actual human-being began.

It only took about 5 minutes for me to get insanely frustrated. Nothing was symmetrical nor proportional and everything was misshapen.

"UGHHH!" I groaned loudly and fell over, burying my head in the couch cushions. "This damn thing is hopeless!"

I could hear Pony laugh at me.

"You've barely even started, Lily", he argued.

"Don't you even try making me keep on doing this, Ponyboy Michael", I chastised with my head still firmly planted in the couch.

"Oh no, she's bringin' out the middle name", Pony said.

I simply didn't answer to him.

"Darlin', I would suggest you get your face outta there."

"And why's that?"

"You don't know what kinda things have happened on that couch."

I immediately shot up and glared at him.

He put his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. I give."

"How the hell do you do this?" I asked, more rhetorically than not. I propped my left elbow up onto the back of the couch and leaned my head on my hand.

"Do you want some help?"

"No", I insisted. "I'm gonna do this."

I picked up my pencil and drawing pad again from the coffee table where I had thrown them in the midst of my frustration and took a deep breath before further trying to draw my boyfriend.

I continued like this for an hour. These 60 minutes included much scribbling and erasing and some swearing. But by the end of it, I had a passible drawing that, in my opinion, was only mediocre.

"Done", I sighed loudly as I dropped my pad and pencil onto the ground, letting myself fall back onto Pony's lap.

"This damn project…", I muttered, covering my face with my hands.

Ponyboy gently grabbed my wrists and pulled my hands from my face. Looking up, i was greeted with a sympathetic smile.

"I know it sucks, Princess, but you're doin' great."

I gave him a long, disbelieving stare.

"Just think, that's one less picture to draw. How many do you have left?"

I counted on my fingers before sharing my answer with him. "I don't know."

He snorted a bit. "How don't you know?"

"Well, I already did my parents and Anna and Henry, but I still have to do the gang and that would be easier if I could copy a picture, but I don't know anymore…Just…just let me have my existential crisis."

"Up ya go", Pony lifted me off the couch and onto my feet.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"You need a break, Lily."
"Okay? And just how are you planning on making me take a break?"

"Like this."

And with that, Pony walked into the kitchen and turned on the radio before coming back over to me.

I smirked at him. "We're dancing?"

"Yes we are", he confirmed.

"Okay y'all", the radio announcer started. "You might remember this one from way back in the fifties. It's 'Love Is Strange' by Mickey and Sylvia."

The familiar guitar riff started and Pony took my hands and proceeded to waltz me around the living room.

"Love, love is strange.

Lot of people take it for gain.

Once you get it, you never wanna quit.

After you've had it, you're in an awful fix…"

I couldn't help but laugh. Here we were, waltzing around the Curtis' living room to a song that was most certainly not a waltz. I was channeling Audrey Hepburn in "Breakfast at Tiffany's" with my loose-fitting sweatshirt and jeans, except with Converse instead of flats and my hair in a messy bun instead of tied back with a cloth. I also had my necklace and ring on. Pony was in a t-shirt, jeans and socks with his hair ungreased.

Suddenly, Pony stopped waltzing with me and just did pulled, pushed and pulled my arms as a dance and sang along with the song.

"Sylvia…"

I laughed and then played along, "Yes, Mickey?"

"How do you call your lover-boy?"

"C'mere, lover-boy!"

"And if he doesn't answer?"

"Oh, lover-boy!"

"And if he still doesn't answer?".

"I simply say: baby… oh, baby. My sweet baby, you're the one", I sang.

"Baby…oh, baby. My sweet baby, you're the one", we sang together, Pony releasing my hands to pretend to play guitar along with the music.

He looked down at me with a grin before kissing me. I smiled into the kiss, holding his face as he held my hips.

After a minute we broke apart and Pony led me back to the couch.

"Okay, break time's over", he told me.

"Fine", I relinquished, "but we're keeping the radio on."

"Whatever helps you during your 'existential crisis', darlin' ", he laughed.

"Can I use a picture of the gang to copy?" I asked.

"Sure, just lemme grab one", Pony answered as he went into his and Soda's room, coming back out with the framed photograph that Soda had given him for his birthday.

Drawing off of the picture was much easier for me and I got much less frustrated while doing it. After I drew that picture I colored it in carefully with colored pencils before doing the same to the drawing of Ponyboy while we talked about the strangest and most random things the entire time.

By the time I was done with all that it was noon. I wished I could have stayed, but Pony and I both had 12:30 shifts at our jobs and didn't want to be late. I had to leave before Pony did since my job was downtown and therefore took longer to get to (especially since I was walking).

I shouldered my bag, which I had taken off before I had started drawing, and gave Pony a hug at the front door. I would just do the writing portion of the project at work since it wasn't usually very busy.

"I love you, honey", I told him as I gave him a kiss.

"I love you too", he responded. "And I always will."

As I walked to my job I thought about something my dance teacher, Madame Evelyn, had suggested a few days before when I had last gone to class.

Her offer was that on Friday nights and Saturday mornings in the next year I would co-teach ballet to the little toddlers along with a senior and her. I would get paid for the job too; $1.50 an hour. That was a whole 10 cents more than what I was getting paid at the bookstore. I would still be keeping my job at the book store, obviously, but I would need to change around my schedule.

At that point I worked at the bookstore Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from 3:30 to 7:00 and Saturdays and Sundays from 12:30 to 6:30. Some weekdays when I didn't have school, I worked the times that I usually did on the weekends. I would have to take a later shift on Saturdays and not work Fridays, which I felt like my boss, Mrs. Brown, would be alright with. She was a kind middle-class woman in her seventies whose husband (who she had started the bookstore with) had died about 5 years before.

If my parents said that I could I would take the job in Fridays and Saturdays, though it would make me quite a bit busier. But the harder I worked the more money I could save up for college and my future.

Even the twins had jobs to a certain degree. Henry was a paperboy on Sunday mornings and rode around the middle-class neighborhood on his bike, chucking newspapers at people's doorways. Anna babysat the kids that I used to before I got my job at the bookstore.

They were almost twelve and I did not at all find that okay. Not in the slightest. I felt old, especially for a kid my age. Though, I suppose that's what happens to every kid on the East-side of Tulsa: you have to grow up fast and older than you really are.

OH MY GOD I'M SUCH A TERRIBLE PERSON. Believe me, I had absolutely no intention to keep you guys waiting for over a month and I'm really sorry. The end of the school year was just too hectic to get any writing done and when I finally had time I either had writer's block or didn't like what I had written and changed it. Since it's Summer Break now I'll definitely be writing more, so stay tuned for that. All rights to "Love is Strange" belong to Mickey and Sylvia and, yes, I did base that part off of the scene from "Dirty Dancing" (I love that movie). I love y'all and stay gold!- AthenaRavenclaw13