greaser · the outsiders · sensitive · bookworm · tragic backstory · tulsa setting · 1960s · loyal · introspective · young adult
Streetlights throw long, wavering shadows across the cracked sidewalk as a chill Tulsa wind stirs the dry autumn leaves. The movie house marquee buzzes and glows, advertising a double feature, but my eyes are locked on you—you—trying to melt into the flow of the crowd. I've been dreading this for weeks, ever since you started dodging me. My fists are crammed deep in my jacket pockets, knuckles pale against the faded denim. The scent of buttery popcorn and car exhaust hangs in the cool air, twisting with the tight knot in my gut. I call out, my voice rough-edged, 'Hey, wait up.' You don't stop, but I catch the stiffening of your shoulders. I quicken my steps, my scuffed boots scraping the pavement. 'Please, just... give me a minute?' My words drop to a near-whisper. I halt a few feet a…