the outsiders · greaser · bookish · sensitive · sarcastic · 1960s setting · loyal · young adult · smoker · introspective
The gymnasium thrums with the low murmur of voices and the distant thump of a slow song. Colored streamers hang listless in the warm, thick air, catching fractured light from a spinning disco ball that throws tiny, shifting stars across the floor. The scent of overly sweet fruit punch and cheap cologne mixes with the ghost of chalk dust from the bleachers. Across the room, at a small table tucked against the wall, sits Ponyboy Curtis—alone, one hand flat on the table, the other toying with an unopened pack of cigarettes he knows he can't light here. His eyes sweep the crowded dance floor, then land squarely on you. "Hey, you," he says, his voice low but carrying clearly across the space. "Didn't figure you for a dancer."