Olivia's POV:

After running all the way there in fear of being caught we sit at our usual spot by the lake. I take off my silver heels, and we both have our feet dipped in the water.

"I don't think anyone'll catch us today. They're having too much fun in there," Ponyboy says. I nod, but don't look at him. I can't take my eyes off of our surroundings. The sun is just starting to set, descending into the water before us. The setting sun sends flecks of sparkling gold across the horizon, which is turning all shades of pink and purple, with light hues of blue behind it.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I ask Ponyboy, realizing he's been watching with me.

"Just like you," he whispers confidently. A blush creeps up on my face.

"Thank you," I respond, just as the sun starts creeping lower than can be seen. Ponyboy inches closer to me, close enough to put his arm around my waist.

"Hi," I whisper, giggling.

"Hi," he says back, snaking his arm through mine. He pulls me close and I lean my head on his shoulder, my feet dancing in the warm waters below.

"It was nice to see one of those again," I say. "I used to go out every night and just watch. I'd sit on the curb by my house even if it wasn't the greatest spot, or have my dad drive me to somewhere I could see it better. Then I was just sit there for a few minutes after, just staring into the darkness. I don't know why, but no matter what mood I was in, it always made me feel better." I speak freely and don't regret telling him the secret I've never said to anyone out loud.

"Sometimes," he clears his throat, "Sometimes I wake up early just to watch the sunrise. If I can get myself out early enough, I'll be dressed and ready and watch it outside. Those are the days I fall asleep during classes. Other times I just watch it from my bothers and my bedroom window," he tells me. I nod.

"You share a room with your brother? Which one?" I ask. A light blush creeps up on his cheeks, and I vaguely wonder why.

"Uh, Sodapop. The middle one," he says. I smile at him, remembering exactly who Soda is. One of the most attractive guys I think I'll ever meet, but he doesn't have nothing on Ponyboy Curtis.

"When... when my parents died," Ponyboy speaks, pausing to decide if he wants to tell me. I almost cringe at the thought of his parents, the fact that I never thought to ask about them before, and that I embarrassed myself, so badly in front of the only family he has left. I shouldn't have mentioned it in the first place, I realize, just as Pony speaks again, his voice coming out stronger, more confidently.

"When my parents died, I started having nightmares. Bad ones. So I moved in with Soda. And then Darry made me see a therapist, and a child psychologist and a lot of other doctors that we probably didn't have the money for, and I got diagnosed with mild PTSD. They said the probably wouldn't completely go away for a while, but to focus on school, to write and draw more, and not to think about my mom and dad too much. They had Soda and I get one big bed, when the nightmares were getting bad, so he'd be right there to comfort me. They were starting to get better, really, and I was ready to get bad my own bed at least... and then Johnny killed Bob. And then there was the church fire, and two of my best friends died. You know the story, and now you know that my nightmares got worse than ever. I started thinking that I should have been the one that died, and it was my fault both of them were gone. Things got bad, right up until the last day of school when I pulled the fire alarm. I don't know why I did, it-it just happened," he tells me, his voice cracking for the first time since he started speaking. I hug him, and didn't say anything. Really, what can I say?

"My nightmares aren't too bad here, I sometimes wake up and can't get back to sleep, but I haven't woken up screaming or anything yet," he admits to me.

"T-that's good. Do you think they'll stay that way?" I ask, unsure of how else to respond. He shrugs.

"I sure hope so. I just feel like I've been through enough these past few years," he says. I nod in agreement.

"So tell me about you, your home life," he suggests, changing the subject.

"There's not much to tell. I come from a middle class family in a place where we call "Socs" and "Greasers" just plain "Socials" and "Poor people". I live with Liam and my parents. It's a neighborhood where if we wore what we wore to camp to school we'd get suspended. It's a fairly nice town, so the girls wear dresses or skirts and the guys wear dress pants. I have 5 best friends back home, and now that we're old enough, we were gonna get jobs at the same store at the mall for the summer so we could save up for a Beatles concert," I tell him.

"Do the Socials ever beat you guys or the poor people up?" He asks. I shake my head.

"No, not that I know of. They do that to you?" I respond. He nods solemnly.

"Not as much anymore, but the same day Johnny killed Bob, I was jumped on the way home from the movies, and then Bob and his gang tried to again that night. He was drowning me." I give him a sad smile, trying to tell him that I feel bad he has to go through that without showing the pity I felt.

"I'm sorry, Ponyboy. You don't deserve to have to grow up like that," I tell him. He shrugs.

"Since Bob died it's gotten better, I just don't think it'll ever completely go away. Jumping and rumbles or not there's always gonna be a rivalry." He sounds sad, and again I'm at a loss for words.

"I just wish I could change something. It's not fair that I have to grow up in a world where we're judged by how much money our families make. We just have my brothers providing for us now, and that's not nearly as much as my two college graduate parents would have made." He speaks openly and freely, and I can tell that he trusts me.

"You don't say this stuff to just anyone," I remark, looking into his eyes. He thinks for a minute, then shakes his head.

"No, I guess I don't. There was this one other girl once, Cherry Valance. I met her and I got this... immediate sense of trust. Like I could tell her anything. So I did. Everything. And she listened. I thought she understood me... then Johnny killed her boyfriend. The one that tried drowning me. And when she blamed Johnny and wouldn't go see him in the hospital, I knew I'd been looking at this girl wrong. I just thought... what if it were me that had killed Bob? Would she still want to talk to me? I killed Johnny and Dally and-" I don't know what got into me, but I cut him off.

"You didn't kill either of them and you know it. From what you've told me, Ponyboy, Johnny pushed you out first. You couldn't have changed that. Johnny died a hero. He saved you, and he saved those kids. Don't try to take that away from him. And as for Dallas... something inside of him must've snapped. It was nothing that you'd have done," I try to explain. I thought he'd try to tell me I was wrong, fight with me, ignore me, something. Instead, he lays his head on my shoulder.

"Thanks Olivia," he whispers. I kiss his forehead, then lean my head on top of his, our feet still dipped in the water as we watch the stars above us.

A/N: OTP or what? I've been working on this story for so long it's hard for me to think I only have to write three more chapters. And I think this might be my favorite one so far. What do you think?