trapped in a soda can (sodapop x reader)

Him

A week has gone by since I met Ponyboy. We spent every English class together, and even sat together during lunch whenever the both of us could. Tiff and her clique seemed to notice my distancing from them, and decided to drop me completely to which I felt a great relief to. Ponyboy was great company. He told me about his daydreams and I told him about mine. We made ceiling dot constellations together and shouted out poems we thought of as cool.

I had discovered that he had skipped a past grade, and now thought of him as a hidden genius. Behind that scruffed up blue hoodie and beaten up jeans, I befriended a boy who was sweeter than honey, a true jewel to my heart.

I no longer sat at home bored to death, and instead rang up the phone number Pony had given me. I guess I did that too often, as my parents jumped to the conclusion that I had a lover on the other end.

We made a plan to hang at the Dingo on Saturday, and when the time came, I was practically bouncing off the walls from joy.

I promised Pony I'd walk on over to his part of town, for we both feared that if he came to my place, my parents would go wild. Plus, he really wanted to introduce me to some friends, no, family of his, which I was also ecstatic for.

In an attempt to look decent threw on a checkered pencil skirt and a knitted top and sauntered over to the address he had given me. This however was a stupid mistake, for I was about a month's old in Tulsa, and knew just about no locations besides the Dingo, school, and my own house which was conveniently, quite close to the two places.

After wandering aimlessly around the west side of town, I decided to call Pony from a phone booth or something, and ask him to come and find me. Reaching into my pockets, I groaned, finding no quarters to my dispense.

"How am I going to do this now?"

Sighing, I left the booth and was greeted by a honk, alerting me to the fact that I was finding my way onto the road.

"Watch it kid!" the driver shouted.

I watched him drive away and turn onto a station about half a mile where I stood. Perhaps I could ask for some change there.

Running, I made my way over to the station which read DX in big letters. Cars lined up to one side of the station while some people walked out of the front doors. Feeling relieved, I pushed in, pulling my skirt down self-consciously as it MUST'VE lifted from my run.

A teenage boy faced away from the counter, wearing a blue uniform and matching cap. His blonde hair was greased beneath the blue cap; there was no denying this kid was a Greaser.

He didn't seem to notice my presence behind the other end of the counter, so I called out mannerly, "Excuse me? Can I exchange a bill for some change?"

The boy turned, a smile written on his cheeks, and I found myself face to face from the god in the Dingo. My eyes darted to his chest where a silver name tag wrote, "SODAPOP".