Imagine: Ponyboy

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Imagine: Meeting Ponyboy and becoming his friend at a track practice 

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Imagine: Meeting Ponyboy and becoming his friend at a track practice 

I make my way from my car to the track that surrounds a football field. I'm joining one of the high school sports offered at Will Rogers. Even though I'm still in junior high, I'm a good enough athlete to be apart of a high school team. I set my sports bag and water bottle down on the bleachers and join the rest of my future teammates. The coach comes and gives us a brief introduction to track and what it's like. In comparison, I'm a lot smaller than all the others. We get partnered up for warm ups.

I get partnered with a tuff looking guy named Ponyboy. He walks up to me and holds out his hand for me to shake. "Ponyboy Curtis, what's your name?"

"(Y/N)." I reply

"You must the the young kid from the junior high, pretty athletic huh?"

"Yeah, I do some other sports too. My dad was a runner and he wants me to run too." I admit to him, stretching my legs and arms

"I dig you." Ponyboy says

We all start to run. The coach is firm but fair. Ponyboy and I start to become real good buds. He tells me who to steer clear from, since I'm new to town. He explains the greaser and Soc situation. Those Socs sound awful mean. I hope I can avoid 'em as much as possible. Ponyboy also says he lives in the East side of town, and by how close our addresses are, I'm a greaser too.

~~A Few Weeks Later~~

I walk home from school, avoiding any glances that anyone gives me. Greaser or Soc, I don't make eye contact. I walk alongside the grass of the abandoned lot I've grown slightly accustomed to. Then I hear a fairly familiar voice, "Hey, (Y/N)!" I turn around and see Ponyboy hanging out with a scrawny boy that has tan skin and jet black hair and eyes.

"Hey!" I call back walking to him, "What's hangin'?"

"Johnny and I was wondering if you wanted to play some football with us." Ponyboy explains (A/N: grammar error intentional)

"Sounds fun!" I reply enthusiastically. Time flies by us as we toss the football through that old lot. Ponyboy and Johnny, man, they're tuff.

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