Outsiders Interracial Imagines

Track Meet- Ponyboy

"That white boy on the team is fast."

You look up from your lunge to where your friend stands above you. She blocks the sun from her eyes with her hand, staring off into the direction of a group of boys stretching.

You glance in the same direction, curious, but can't find who she's looking at. You go back to your lunges. "And how would you know that, Jada? Stalking our practices again?" you tease.

She sticks her tongue between her teeth and smirks down at you. "Maybe."

You roll your eyes.

"But, seriously I've seen him. He is. What's his name?" She discreetly points so you have a better reference.

Standing up to full height and initiating another stretch, you reply, "Um, Ponyboy, I think. Ponyboy Curtis or something."

"Huh, weird name...but mhm, is that boy flexible."

You glance over again to see him, bending over with one leg bent and the other straight. You feel the heat rush to your face.

"Mhm. And y'alls uniforms just add to the effect." She cranes her neck as if to get a better view.

You shove Jada's shoulder lightly and laugh. "Go be thirsty in the stands. I have A-skips to do and two races to get ready for."

She grins and begins walking to the bleachers. "Y'all would be cute, by the way, with his fine self," she calls back.

You roll your eyes again; as much as you appreciate Jada coming out to support you, it's time to focus now.

You have a quad meet today- a sunny Wednesday in the spring sports season. Today is especially important; you're trying to qualify for an invitational. The regular season is starting to wrap up, going onto conferences and regionals for varsity runners. As a JV kid, today may be your only shot to move on with them.

You haven't realized how nervous you actually are until your stomach drops at the sound of "First call: Girls 100 meter dash" over the stadium's speakers. It's time for your first race.

You're scrambling to get your spikes and head over to the starting point when you walk head-on into someone.

"Crap, sorry," you reply, flustered. The bump caused you to drop the drawstring bag with your spikes, and you bend down quickly to pick it up.

"S'alright."

Standing up, you look to see who it is. Ponyboy Curtis.

You smile apologetically at the ground, suddenly forgetting where you need to be. "Sorry," you mumble again, just to have something to say.

You expect him to be walking away by now, but he lingers. "Um, good luck. On your race," he says. You notice the pinkish tint coloring his ears and cheeks.

You nod with a smile. "Uh, thanks." You start walking to the starting line again. "You too."

You motion your hand to wave goodbye, but, feeling awkward and embarrassed, try to play it off by sticking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Thanks, Jada, you think.

You see this boy almost everyday for practice and never think much of him. He's usually quiet and kind of standoffish, not really fitting in anywhere. Not even with the other white kids on the team; they're mainly long-distance runners while he's a sprinter. He came in a little late to the season, anyway, making it hard for him to click with short-distance kids like yourself.

But, here you are, feeling like you're catching feelings, all because of some teasing words by your best friend...

You're in the fourth heat of the 100. The time comes quickly for your turn to run. Your heart races as you get in position. You look at the bleachers, finding Jada screaming your name, and your confidence rises. You sneak a look across the field, on your other side, and see Ponyboy there, preparing for his own 100. The two of you make eye contact, briefly, and he gives you a thumbs up and smiles.