Pony's truck is idling outside the bookstore when Lucy and I finally lock-up the front door for the night. It had been one of the longest shifts of my life, mainly because Harv had asked Two-Bit to return to help fix a few more things throughout the store. I wouldn't have minded, had I known, but about twenty minutes after I had called to make the plans with Ponyboy I could hear Two-Bit's whistling before he even walked through the front door. It sounded like a ditty from a cartoon, but to me it could have been a funeral march. I felt my mouth drop open when I saw him from behind the shelves of the Love, Loss, and Seduction (Romance) Section of the bookstore and when I came around the corner to Lucy, I found that she was equally as surprised as I was, because her mouth was hanging open in horror.

"What are you doing here?" I snapped at him and Two-Bit shot me an incredulous look.

"I heard some lighting needed to be fixed," he stated with a grin. I could tell he was enjoying the pure shock on my face.

"How long have you been an electrician, Two-Bit?" Lucy asked, trying to ease some of the tension. It was like she had a sixth sense for catching on to sibling fights before they even knew what was happening.

"I ain't," he said, "but I figured it can't take too many of me to change a lightbulb."

"Oh Jeez," I groan, and Lucy stifled a laugh as Two-Bit followed Harv into the back of the store.

It didn't take long for Lucy and me to come up with a plan that would fool my brother. Since Ponyboy and I had decided on another movie date, I decided that it would be better to move this one into the safe coverings of the movie house rather than risk rumor mill at the drive-ins. Two-Bit could always show up to cause a stir at the drive-ins, but the movie house was a little too slow for Two-Bit's style. We knew he wouldn't be caught dead from it being too boring to even look at when he drove by.

Lucy and I had to convince Two-Bit to go home after her finished the work on the lighting fixtures in the bathroom (just changing lightbulbs we couldn't reach). We explained to him how excited we were to have made plans for a girl's night at Lucy's house. At the word girl's anything, I knew we had lost Two-Bit's interest immediately. Regardless, we told him how a scary movie was supposed to be playing on the TV tonight and how her parents had promised to buy us our favorite snacks if we watched her little brothers on their night out. Two-Bi, who once again had lost interest the moment we started talking, didn't ask twice and was soon strolling out of the bookstore without so much of a second glance in my direction.

"Remember if Two-Bit calls," I say, climbing into Ponyboy's truck with a glance back towards Lucy. Ponyboy has the radio playing low and I recognize The Ronette's voices spilling into the air.

"He won't," she promises with a smile and small wave to Ponyboy, "but if he does, I'll tell him you're chasing my brothers out of a tree in the backyard."

"Thanks," I wink before closing the door and watching as she hops into her own car. She gives us a polite honk before disappearing down the street. Ponyboy follows her out into traffic but turns the opposite way.

"Ol'Two-Bit giving you a hard time tonight?" Ponyboy asks and I blow my breath out with a rush, shaking my head.

"You have no idea," I say, before diving into the hoops we had to jump to throw him off our case.

Ponyboy whistles in amazement at the end of my story and then smiles at me, "Who knew trying to get rid of Two-Bit would be such a hassle."

"You have no idea," I say with a small laugh, "Two-Bit loves to be in everybody else's business, but can never quite take care of his own mess."

"Oh, trust me," Ponyboy says, "I have two older brothers, a Two-Bit, and a Steve Randall. There's nothing private or sacred in my life."

This makes me laugh and I try to picture what it must have felt like to grow up with those boys. I only ever had Two-Bit, he had made it very clear that I was never to have any part of their gang (which was always fine with me), but I always wondered.

We sit in silence for a few moments, letting the radio fill in the space between us as we take in the small downtown shops of Tulsa. It is still light enough for families to be milling in and out of the small stores and taking their time to stroll up and down the street. The Ribbon, not quite as busy as it is on the weekends, almost looks rather peaceful, a bit homier, more small town, and I feel a slight wave of nostalgia hit me randomly, like I've almost been here in this moment before.

"What are you thinking about?" Ponyboy asks, pulling me away from studying those warm streets of a Thursday night in Tulsa.

"Nothing really," I say with a small shrug of my shoulders, "just watchin'." And even though I don't elaborate, I know he knows what I mean. Ponyboy is dreamy – in more ways than one.

Ponyboy doesn't say anything else, instead he just takes my hand in his and holds it gently to his lips before letting it go again. My hand falls gently back into my lap, and I feel the goosebumps trail my arm as if the kiss is traveling up my skin. This causes me to shiver, and I feel the warm blush drape my cheeks as I quickly look away from him. I wonder if the same small touches made him feel the same way I do. Peeking at him from the curtain of my hair I find that there's the same sweet blush on his face and I must look away again.

"You hungry?" He asks as we pull up next to the parking lot for Jay's Diner. I quickly study the line of cars, wondering if any of them would rat us out to Two-Bit. I still hadn't figured out who could have told him that I was on a date. I wanted to blame it on Angela Shepard, but I knew better. Had she seen Two-Bit, she would have told him the whole story, not just tease him with a tidbit of business that wasn't anyone's except my own and Ponyboy's.

"I think we're safe on a Thursday," Ponyboy adds in as we wait for the light to turn green, "your call." I try to read into him, wondering what he wants me to say. Something in the back of my head says that he truly doesn't care. That Ponyboy just wants me to feel happy, comfortable, and safe with him.

"I want too," I tell him because I desperately do. I want to share a basket of fries with him. I want to listen to him talk about his favorite books over a chocolate milkshake. I want to sit with him at a booth and maybe have someone look at us the way I looked at so many strangers in the world with a curiosity of what it must feel like to be so content with another person all the time. "But I think that I should tell Two-Bit first," I say, and he nods without any questions or arguments, pulling away as soon as the light turns green.

Ponyboy seems unbothered and once again I find that my hand is intertwined with his as we drive the rest of the way to the movie house. One of the gentlest reminders he could give me that he heard me and respected what I had to say. Two-Bit might be his buddy, but he was my brother first and I wanted to tell Ponyboy how thankful I was that he understood that. I squeeze his hand gently, hoping that he can feel everything I wish so desperately to put into words for him through just my single touch. He seems to know because once again, he lifts my hand to his lips, but this time his eyes glance to meet mine. I am so thankful we are sitting down, because looking into his eyes almost makes me forget how to breathe.

The movie house is only slightly busy and Ponyboy can purchase two tickets to Elvis Presley's new movie Speedway without any waiting. I listen to his small rant about how maybe, just maybe Elvis isn't as tuff as he had once been. I listen intently but say nothing. For the most part, Ponyboy and I agree about movies, music, and books, but this time I found myself in total disagreement. To me, Elvis Presley would always be tuff enough. As I listen to his rant, I take the time to purchase the snacks from the concession. Ponyboy puffs his chest, but I promise that he can take me out for dinner another night. Ponyboy accepts this and leaves me at the concession to scope out two seats in the theater, promising me that there's a formula for picking the perfect seats.

Before meeting him in the theater, I take my time doublecheck my reflection in my compact, smoothing down any flyaway hairs and touching up the mascara that seemed to have smeared below my eyes. I wish that I wasn't wearing my stupid work uniform and try to heighten the skirt a bit to make it look a little less sixty-year-old librarian. Unfortunately for me, it's almost impossible, so I am thankful for the darkness of the movie house to hide my embarrassment.

Ponyboy secures us a spot in the back of the theater, perfectly in the middle of the screen. He walks the steps down from our seats to help me carry the snacks and pushes down my folding chair to make it easier for me to sit down while holding both of our colas in my hands.

"Such a gentleman," I tease, and he winks at me.


"There's no way in hell you didn't like that movie, Ponyboy Curtis," I tease him as he pushes me on the swing in Cade Park. The chains squeak amongst the chattering of the cicadas, making it almost sound like a strange symphony to match the warm summer night.

"I hated it," he says again before catching my swing to hold me in front of him, "Worst movie I've seen in a while."

"Just because of Elvis?" I ask, trying to make my eyes real wide in admiration as he releases my swing, causing me to fly forward again. This makes me laugh and Ponyboy continues to push me back and forth on the swing set without further comment.

I am always the first to admit when I think a movie is cheesy, but just because Ponyboy seemed a little bothered by my slight swooning about Elvis, I decide to hold it over his head a little more. We had come to Cade Park right when the sun had finally settled, and the moon was beginning to peak her way up into the highest point of the sky. We didn't have a lot of time before Ponyboy needed to drop me off at Lucy's for the night, but when the movie was over and we climbed into the truck I couldn't hold myself back from telling him that I wasn't ready to say goodnight and luckily enough for me, he felt the same way.

For a while we discussed the movie. For even longer we talked about Death on the Nile and the Maltese Falcon. Ponyboy making the promise that he would be in the bookshop Tuesday afternoon to perchance another Agatha Christie novel. For the most part though, we just found ourselves enjoying each other's company – telling stories about ourselves that the other might not have known, like how Ponyboy had once wanted to quit the track team to try out for football before Darry talked him out of it and how I had broken my arm riding a horse and never wanted to get back on. Ponyboy keeps up the rhythmic back and forth motion of the swing, only stopping me a few times to ask me a direct question or to catch the smile on my face whenever he teases me about something I tell him. It feels so easy talking to him, that I have a hard time remembering that I haven't been doing it for my whole life.

"I think it's almost time for me to take you home, Nellie." He says, stopping the swing once more. He was right, of course. The moon was starting to make her way back down and I knew that showing to Lucy's passed 11:30 would not be an ideal situation. Unlink my mother, Lucy's parents kept a little closer eye on their children and their respective friends. This time though as Ponyboy slows my swing to a stop, he stands in front of me, looking down to study my face in the moonlight.

"Ponyboy," I whisper, but his name barely leaves my lips when his are finally pressing against mine. Kissing Ponyboy Curtis is everything I imagine and somehow even more than that.

He kisses me softly at first, as if he is unsure of how I might react, but as the moments pass and my mind finally stops swimming in excitement, I find myself standing, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer into me. His own hands tenderly trace down the sides of my body, coming to a warm and protective pause at my waist. They hold me there as I breath in his brilliant scent and try to catch my breath between our desperate and passionate kisses.

I can remember my very first kiss. How awkward it felt to have another person invade such personal space, but with Ponyboy Curtis – nothing has ever felt more natural.

When he finally pulls himself away from me, I find that he has the same sheepish smile plastered across his face that I do mine. I reach up and touch my hand to his cheek and he presses his face into it, exhaling deeply and contentedly into the night air.


A/N: Enjoy my friends. Thank you for your wonderful support! Please continue to review! I will update soon.