"What are you writing?" Ponyboy asks. He takes a bite of his sandwich. "I don't think I've ever seen you do an ounce of schoolwork."
"You still haven't," Two-Bit answers. "This ain't school work. It's top secret."
Ponyboy and Johnny grin at each other and lean over the lunch table, trying to catch a glimpse.
Two-Bit gives them a mischievous look and covers the page with his hand.
"Aw, come on, man!" Johnny says.
"You really wanna know what I'm writing?" Two-Bit asks.
"What do you we have to do, Two-Bit, beg?" Ponyboy says.
Two-Bit raises an eyebrow."I wouldn't mind a little begging."
"Please," Ponyboy implores, half-laughing at his deliberate whininess, "please, please, please."
"It's a love letter," Two-Bit mumbles sheepishly.
"A love letter!" Pony nearly shouts. Johnny bites back a grin. "Let me see it."
"No, Pone, it's private."
"If it were private you wouldn't have started writing it in front of us. Come on. Who're you in love with?"
"Wouldn't you like to know." Two-Bit shakes the letter in front of Ponyboy, high up enough that it is just out of his reach, taunting him. Ponyboy stands on his tiptoes and snatches it out of Two-Bit's hand.
"Dear Isabel," Ponyboy reads out loud,
"It is hard for me to describe in mere words how ardently I admire you." Ponyboy raises an eyebrow at Two-Bit, copying Two-Bit's own gesture for amusement.
"I entered this institution with the sole purpose of expanding young minds and sharing my knowledge, but I've discovered quite suddenly that there is more to life then books–'than' should be spelled with an 'a'–for it is not only knowledge that I'd like to share with you."
"That's pretty dirty," Johnny says.
"The other day, when you passed me in the hallway, you were wearing your tweed frock-Two-Bit, are you sure 'frock' is the right word?-and I couldn't help but imagine how that garment would look, crumbled–do you mean crumpled?–next to my bed. Indeed, my dear, my sweet, my beloved, for weeks now I have longed to take you in my arms and-" Pony stops speaking. He shakes his head and tuts at Two-Bit.
"And what?" Johnny asks, excited.
"That's where it ends," Pony says, suppressing a grin.
"Wow," Johnny says. "You sure used a lot of big words to say some pretty common things, Two-Bit. This girl must be real special."
"It's not from me. It's from Mr. Harolson. I had to make it sound authentic, so I used a thesaurus."
"So who is Isabel?" Ponyboy asks.
"That's Ms. Winters's first name."
"You're trying to set up the two new English teachers! You think that's gonna work?" Pony asks.
"Who knows. They'll get a kick out of it at least." Two-Bit shrugs, but Johnny can tell he's proud of his scheming. "Anyway, it worked for Ms. Porter and Mr. Johnson."
"Wait," Johnny interrupts, "that was you?"
"My handiwork," Two-Bit preens. Then he frowns. "Shoot, that Soc is headed over here again. Do you want me to make him leave, Johnny? Jesus, doesn't he know the rules?"
Johnny turns around and sees Randy headed towards their table. Randy catches his glance and waves. Johnny inwardly groans. "Nah," he says to Two-Bit. "Don't bother."
"Hey Johnny," Randy greets as he sits down. "Ponyboy, Two-Bit." Randy nods at each of them as he says their name.
Johnny stares at the suddenly interesting bag of trail mix in front of him. It's hard to look Randy in the face after what happened the other day. Even most of his closest friends haven't witnessed his dad beating him. They see the aftereffects plenty, but besides Randy, only Ponyboy's ever seen his folks go off on him.
Two-Bit scowls.
"Hey Randy," Ponyboy reluctantly returns.
"I just wanted to let you know I found a new location for our tutoring session today, since the library's taken up," Randy says to Johnny.
"Oh yeah?" Johnny mumbles.
"Yup. I asked around about the classrooms, but rules are rules, according to our wonderful principal, so they're off-limits. But there's no game tonight, and as long as the skies are clear, I figure we could use the bleachers. So I'll see you at the football stadium at three, okay?"
"Sure," says Johnny.
Randy gives Johnny's arm an affectionate squeeze before he gets up to go. Ponyboy's mouth drops as he watches the exchange, and Two-Bit casually pulls out his most prize possession, his switchblade. Randy sees it in Two-Bit's hand and shakes his head as he turns away.
"Are you guys friends or something?" Two-Bit sounds offended. He grumpily snatches back his matchmaking letter from the other side of the table where it lays in front of Ponyboy.
"We ain't friends." Johnny's tone sulky and defensive.
"Sure looked like it," Two-Bit grumbles.
"I said we ain't," Johnny repeats, sternly.
"He's a Soc," Two-Bit says. "He's not like us. You know better than any of us what they think of greasers, what they do to greasers-"
"Two-Bit, get off Johnny's back," Pony says. "Johnny can be friends with whoever he wants."
"We ain't friends!" Johnny insists.
But all Two-Bit says is, "Boys like us, we gotta stick together. And that means we don't go kissing ass to rich jerks like that. That means we stay loyal." He gets up and leaves the table, abandoning his unfinished lunch.
"Don't worry about it, Johnny," Ponyboy's voice is soft and comforting.
But Johnny is too upset to eat.