ponyboy, i asked the nurse to give you this book so you could finish it. the doctor came in a while ago, but i already new it anyway. i keep getting tired and tired. listen, i dont mind dying now it was worth it, it was worth saving those little kids, their lives are worth more than mine, they have more to live for. some of their parents came by to think me and it was worth it. tell dally it was worth it. im just gona miss u guys and iv been thinking about it. that poem, the guy that wrote it. he ment your gold when your a kid, like green, when your a kid everything is new, dawn, its just, when just u get used to every thing its day. like the way you dig sunsets pony, thats gold. keep it that way, its a good way to be. i want u to tell dally to look at one. he'll probly think your crazy but ask for me. i dont think hes ever really seen a sunset. and dont be bugged over being a greaser, you still have alot of time to make yourself be what you want. theres still alot of odd good in the world. tell dally i dont think he noes. your buddy, Johnny
You started walking towards him, your nerves coming through. “What if he doesn’t remember me?” You thought. But he couldn’t. You used to be best friends.
You walk up behind him, he was talking to that Johnny kid that you sometimes hung out with. He was also with Two-Bit.
“Still trying to grease that hair, hood?” You laugh from behind him.
He whirls around. “(Y/N)?”
You smile at him. He runs toward you a scoops you up into a big bear hug.
“Oh my god I missed you.” He muttered as he set you down, and began stroking your hair. Well that was… Different.
“Missed you too.” You squeezed him.
“Well look at what we’ve got here… Damn you were like, nine the last time we saw you? Hey Ponyboy…She’s really uh ‘grown up’, hasn’t she?” Two-Bit laughs.
“Shut up,” Ponyboy mutters. But he was looking at you.
And you locked eyes.
Ad everything changed.
“Dad, why does Jesus have a scary beard?” My eight year old Rhett whispers.
“I don’t know…Maybe they couldn’t shave back then.” I whisper back.
“Oh,” he nods. It seemed to make sense to him.
Twelve year old Scarlett looked over at us, trying to see what all the whispering was about. I waved my hand at her to tell her it wasn’t important.
Charlie had crawled into my lap halfway through the sermon. He was five now, but still my little man. He was half asleep by now.
(Y/N) was at home, on bed rest. Ella or Robert could be born any day now. I would be a dad to four. That would be scary. Horrifying.
But I was happy.