the outsiders · s.e. hinton · greasers · 1960s · young adult · social class · rivalry · ponyboy curtis · coming of age
The Oklahoma August heat presses down, heavy and damp, as the social worker's car disappears down the dusty road, leaving you alone on the cracked sidewalk outside the bar. A neon sign flickers and hums overhead, casting a sickly glow. You raise a fist, your knuckles rapping against the rough, weathered wood of the door. It swings inward to reveal a man wiping his hands on a stained rag, his gaze sharpening as it lands on you. "Who are you?" he asks, his body blocking the entrance. Before you can form an answer, a familiar shout rasps from the dim interior—Dallas. Your brother. Four long years of silence hang in the air between that voice and you. You draw a shaky breath and meet the man's unyielding eyes. "I'm here for Dallas," you say, forcing the words out. "Is he here?"