Ponyboy and Peyton - Imagine for Anonymous!

“Peyton, would you just listen?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I am. I’m just not agreeing with a word you’re saying.”

The fact that you had to even discuss this with Ponyboy made you all different kinds of angry. Did he not understand how much danger he could get into? There was no way that you would ever let him pull a crazy stunt like that! Yeah, you two may have only been “young lovers”, so you didn’t really have a say in what he could or could not do, but never would you agree to letting him fight in a rumble that same night.

“But all of the guys are going!” he said, pointing to them. Exactly; the boys were sitting in the living room watching this argument get even worse with every passing second.

“Are all the other guys fourteen years old like you and I? Nope, I don’t think so!”

“But who are you to stand here in my living room, telling me what I can or can’t do?! You’re just my girlfriend, your word doesn’t mean anything to me in my decisions!” he shot back.

This caught you off guard. He never spoke to you like that, but you weren’t going to let that stop you.

“That’s right. I’m just your girlfriend, I can’t tell you what to do. All I want is for my boyfriend to be safe. Is that too much to ask?!” You felt your voice rise, and you turned to the gang. “Right, boys? Right that it’s not a lot to ask?!”

“Uh, I actually think tha-” Two-Bit intervened, raising his hand, but you cut him off because you knew exactly what he was going to do: defend Ponyboy.

“Keith Mathews, I swear to God,” you hissed, glaring at him relentlessly. Never have you witnessed him shutting up so quickly.

Ponyboy’s eyes seemed to flash red, and steam was almost about to shoot out of his ears. “Hey, that ain’t fair! It ain’t okay for you to intimidate my friends to get them to agree with you!”

“Then it’s not okay for you to go the rumble. What’s so important about it, anyway? Huh?” you pinched the bridge of your nose in another bout of annoyance, “You know what, Pony? You’re right. My word doesn’t matter. Go on, go to the rumble. Get hurt, I don’t care.”

“Pey, please just list-” you raised your hand up, not wanting to hear anything else from your boyfriend. You turned to the gang, looking at everybody but Pony. “I should get going, the parents are waiting. See you later.” And with that, you walked out of the Curtis home, making your way back home.

***

You walked into your house and slammed the door, ignoring the pointed looks of your parents. You stomped over to your room, and slammed that door, too. You plopped on the bed and reached the old phone on your bedside table, contemplating on whether or not you should call your best friend and vent to her.

Your hands played with the hem of your shirt nervously. You were going to be honest with yourself, the argument kept replaying in your mind. Not only did his words hurt you, but your attitude was what killed you. You cared about Ponyboy with all your heart and soul.

You knew that you didn’t love him, at least not yet, but you knew that you sure cared deeply about a guy like him. You were too young to know what love was, but if love felt anything like this, you wanted no part of it.

You looked at your watch.

7:55 P.M.

The sight made your breath catch in your throat. The rumble was planned to start in a mere five minutes. You called your friend, deciding not to vent, but instead just talk to her about her day and get your mind off of your boyfriend getting beat to a pulp by a group of much older, stronger Socs. Your friend finally picked up, but your mouth and words betrayed you, telling her all about the night’s events.

“I just don’t get it, Peyton. Why can’t he understand the point you’re trying to make?”

You let out a breathy chuckle, “Listen brainiac, if I knew why I wouldn’t have called you.”

“Very funny. Maybe you should talk to him. But don’t you dare feel bad about whatever you said. You were right about everything.” she explained.

“Thanks, I apprecia-” you froze, an urgent knock interrupting you, “Listen, I got to go. Someone’s knocking on my door.”

“No problem. If it’s Pony, remember what I said about you being right. If it’s Sodapop, let me know so I can run over there.” she giggled, hanging up right after.

“Mom, I’ll get the do-”

You heard your mother’s gasp after the creak of the front door, “Oh my goodness, what happened to you boys?!”

You froze once again. The gang’s all here?! You bounded to the door, your feet moving at such a fast pace that you surprised even yourself. Getting closer and closer, you heard the relentless groans of injured males.

You made it to the living room and nearly fainted at the sight. Your mother was fussing with a first aid kit, making her way to the closest boy. The boys were sprawled out on the couches, but two or three of them were lying on the floor, nearly unmoving.

You took in the view and nearly heaved at the boys’ states. Dallas’ clothes were nearly ripped to shreds, blotched with blood stains. Sodapop already had a black eye forming on his handsome face. The scars on Johnny’s face opened up, and you winced at that, because you knew those were the scars Bob gave him but you didn’t want to press the subject anytime soon.

Two-Bit’s knuckles were extremely bloodied, and his normally greased hair was all over the place. Steve’s leg was looking kind of strange: it was bent in a place you thought shouldn’t bend like that, not to mention the fact that his nose was gushing out blood. You looked over at Darry. With his size and strength, it was no surprise that he didn’t have a hair on his head harmed. On the other hand, you noticed that he was sweating like an animal, and you could tell by the way he was wincing that he wasn’t let off so easily this time around.

If they look this way, imagine Pony. You shuddered at your own thought.

“What happened to y-”

Dally interrupted you, “If you’re looking for loverboy,” he stopped, coughing up a bit of blood, “he’s out on the porch.”

You only smiled sheepishly at him, walking towards your front door. You could feel the gang’s – and your mother’s – eyes follow you. You took in a deep breath, and walked out of the house, closing the door slightly behind you.

“Ponyboy?”

A cough came from your left side, “Uh, Peyton. Hi.” Your head whipped to the side and you saw your boyfriend scratching his neck nervously, his hair matted on his head, blood dripping from his temple. You could have sworn he had a black eye, too.

You crossed your arms. “You shouldn’t have gone to the rumble.”

“Pey, listen t-”

“Don’t call me that! You should have listened to me. You should have realized how right I was! Gosh, Ponyboy, you should have. Did you know how worried I was? I thought you were going to die! Hell, you look close to it!”

“Peyton, can we not argue abou-”

“Ponyboy Curtis! I have every right to be yelling at you like this, worrying! ” you raised your voice at him again, “Lord, do you know how worried I was? I don’t care about what happened at the rumble right now. Frankly, I don’t ever want to know the details.”

You paused, trying to calm yourself and not wake your neighbors, “Just stop and get your stubborn behind inside so I can get you cleaned up.” you grabbed his hand and tried to drag him inside, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Peyton?”

“What?” you rolled your eyes, turning to look at him. He was looking down at you with a goofy grin, happiness dancing in his eyes.

“I love you, too.”

“Yeah, whatever. You’re lucky you already have a black eye, because I wouldn’t have hesitated to square you right in the face just now.” you glared at him, shaking your head.

“Goddamnit Keith, shut your mouth for once so I can put one damn band-aid on your face!” you heard the gang erupt into laughter at that.

You grinned at Ponyboy, “Looks like my mom’s a little aggravated.”

He shrugged, “She’s dealing with Two-Bit. I’m not surprised.”