Steve and I both have auto mechanics after lunch. I think it's kind of funny that Steve signed up for the class considering he knows more about cars than the teacher does. Everyone in class knows this, too. More people go to Steve for help in the class than the teacher.

"Why does Pony always have to be around us?" Steve asked. "Aren't there other freshmen he can have lunch with?"

"He's known us since he was a little kid," I replied. "Besides, if you were him, would you want to eat lunch with the freshmen here? It'd be hard enough for him to eat with a bunch of socs."

Steve sighed, "I guess you're right. Besides, he wouldn't be able to leave school grounds without us."

That was true. Freshmen couldn't leave the school for lunch unless they were going with an upper classman. I'd noticed some of the other freshmen giving Ponyboy jealous glances as we've left for lunch on several occassions. And thanks to Steve and myself, Pony knew stuff that the other freshmen didn't know, like the best place to smoke in the building without getting caught and how to get access to hall passes so you can wander the halls without getting into trouble.

"You know, you're alot like Soda, sticking up for Pony the way you do." Steve commented.

I gave him a goofy grin. "Hey, someone has to stick up for the kid. Although he's pretty good at sticking up for himself."

Steve nodded and turned his attention to someone who was asking him for help with that day's assignment. Leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. I usually don't do anything in auto shop, except for talking to Steve, and the teacher doesn't seem to care. So, I just sat there, watching everyone else work until I got bored. Then, I drew pictures in the margins of the text book.

"You could get in trouble for writing in the book." A sophmore said to me.

I grinned at him. "I'm not writing in the book. I'm drawing in it."

The kid looked at me before walking away, shaking his head. He was a middle class kid, which I guess was okay. At least he wasn't a soc.

It wasn't long before the bell rang and I was heading for the last class of the day, which for me is study hall, or as I like to call it, nap time. At least most days, I can take a nap. But, today when I entered the classroom, the teacher handed me a pass to Mr. Symes' class room.

"What's this?" I asked him as he placed the pass in my hand.

"Apparently, Mr. Pascal has arranged for you to go to Mr. Symes' freshmen English class during this time. He said you'd know what it was about." The teacher replied. He gave me a small grin. "Don't worry Mr. Mathews, I'm sure things will work out for you."

I didn't reply as I left the room and made my way to the other end of the building where Mr. Symes' class was. I entered the room almost two minutes after the bell rang, which meant I had a class full of freshmen socs looking at me. Pony wasn't looking at me, though, he was looking down at his desk, tracing whatever was carved in it with his finger. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt.

"Keith?" Mr. Symes asked as I handed him the pass. I nodded and he pointed at an empty desk next to Pony's. "You'll be sitting next to Ponyboy since he'll be tutoring you. "

"I thought he was going to tutor me after school." I admitted softly.

Mr. Symes grinned at me. "He will, but it seems that you're farther behind than you should be. But, I'll make a deal with you. I'll give you the same assignment I gave Pony last semester when he was failing. Give me a semester theme about something you've experienced and I'll pass you with at least a C."

"A theme?" I asked. "I don't even know what that is."

"Why do you think Ponyboy's tutoring you?" Mr Symes asked with a wink.

I walked to my assigned desk and sat down. "Looks like we're in class together, kid."

Pony glanced up at me. He didn't look too happy about having me in class with me, although he did manage a tiny smile. "At least I'm no longer the only greaser in here."

I surveyed the room and realized for the first time that there were mostly socs and a handful of middle class kids, but Pony and I were the only greasers. No wonder he looked like he was uncomfortable. If I was a fourteen year old greaser in a class full of socs, I'd be uncomfortable too, if my eighteen year old friend was suddenly put in that class.

"Relax Pony," I whispered. "How bad can this be?"

"You're not the one who has to sit through every class where it's mostly socs. I'm going to have to hear more comments from them than usual because you're in this class now. It was bad enough being the only greaser." Pony whispered back.

I'd forgotten that because he was in a lot of the smart classes that he was constantly around socs. He had to put up with the socs more than the rest of us did and there was no way I could even begin to understand what that was like. To make it worse, there weren't many people in the school who would stick up for him if the socs caused trouble. Basically, since Pony was in all the smart classes, he was always between a rock and a hard place. And I wondered if Darry understood that.