CHAPTER THREE

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July 22, 1965 - 11:40 PM

Johnny’s POV

I sit on the cold pavement of the lot and gaze at the night sky. It’s around midnight, I assume. I’ve been thinking about Ponyboy for quite a while now.

I hope that he likes the present that I gave him. It’s small because I have very little money of my own, but I tried my best. I wonder what he thought of my letter. I meant every word that I said in it, and I wanted to write even more.

Writing that letter made one thing crystal clear to me: I really like Ponyboy. Now I wonder if it’s apparent to him, too.

I almost jump out of my skin when I feel someone tap my shoulder from behind. I jerk around and see Ponyboy, who wears a warm smile. His eyes stand out in the darkness of the night.

“What are you doing here?” I gasp.

“I need to thank you for the gift.”

I glance down and realize that he’s holding my letter. He sits beside me and grabs my hand.

“Look at me,” he says.

I lead my inky eyes to his green ones. He leans in and rests his forehead against mine. I don’t think we’ve ever been this close to each other before.

“What you wrote about me... That meant a lot.”

I smile nervously and murmur, “It’s nothing, really.”

He shakes his head and squeezes my palm. “No, Johnny, it isn’t nothing. I love it. I love the new paint brushes, and I…”

His voice trails off into a faint whisper.

“I love you.”

I let out a deep breath and reply, “I love you too.”

Ponyboy’s steady breaths sound like crashing waves to my ears, and his scent of cigarettes and cheap cologne is suffocatingly strong. It’s as if he’s growing closer; as if there’s no space in between us.

The touch of his lips softly brushing against mine feels as if it’s by accident. This doesn’t confuse me; in fact, it makes complete sense. Kissing Ponyboy makes so much sense.

Happy birthday to you…

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

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