Hey everyone! I am so sorry for the unexpectedly long hiatus. To make it up to you, I will be updating much more regularly. Thanks for all your support! (every time I get a review, Ponyboy gets more plot twists :)

Ponyboy almost gagged as soon as he stepped inside the boarded up building. The pungent odor of sweat, cigarette smoke, beer and mildew was overwhelming. Johnny's eyes watered, and he coughed into his elbow.

The first floor was filled with people- already, Pony counted at least a dozen sitting around a coffee table playing poker. The floor was dusty, and the entire area was barely lit with the exception of thin streams of light coming in through the cracks of the boarded up windows. Torn couches and mattresses with the springs sticking out littered the ground, people sprawled out either high or drunk across them. The staircase leading to what Ponyboy assumed was the second floor looked like it was about to give out should anyone walk on it. Peeling white paint flaked off in piles in the corners, and an old toothless man strummed idly on a guitar in the back of the room. Like Atchin Tan, the crowd was more diverse than anything Tulsa ever had. Young, old, black white, even a mother with two children sat on a mattress towards the corridor. There were girls in tattered dresses speaking spanish rapidly to one another, men guffawing not unlike Two Bit, and a few guys who sat alone, downing their beers, dressed like failed stock brokers.

"Where are we?" Johnny ventured absentmindedly, oggling at the strange sight.

"It used to be a casino up until 'bout 6 years ago. The state closed it down, and since then it's been a hangout to a crowd of around 500." Eddy explained, leading them towards the old staircase.

"500?" Ponyboy exclaimed, glancing reluctantly at the rickety steps.

Eddy chuckled. "Not all at once, of course. But I estimate the amount I've seen in my days. C'mon, I'll show you a room. Looks like the first floor is already full."

Johnny was the first to try out the old boarding. It creaked and moaned dangerously, but did not give as they continued upwards. The site brought back memories to Ponyboy of his father. When he was 5 years old, on of the steps to the basement broke and Mr. Curtis was scratching his head for weeks. No matter how much their mother clamored for him to do something or at least call a repairman, he insisted on figuring it out himself. He was stubborn as the day was long, working on that thing even harder after Darry tripped on it with all his football gear. To this day, the fifth step down to their basement remains broken. A smile quirked involuntarily at the young boy's lips. It was bittersweet.

"Ah, here we are. Much better." Eddy called out, sauntering around the vacant slot machines that were still bolted to the floor.

Johnny mentioned something about two open beds, and Eddy kept talking about how last year he'd shot a whole nest of rats that had taken up lodge in a pool table, but all Ponyboy could stare at was the girl who stood in the corner, looking out a gap in the boarded up window. Sunlight masked her face, an olive hue unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Her dark brown hair was curly and tangled, cut short to hang just above her shoulders but it still fell in wisps about her face. She looked to be about his age, legs long and body skinny from lack of available food. She wore a stained sweatshirt and patched jeans, worn down converse shoes just like his own. She looked like she was contemplating something, so deep in thought. Her image was so incomparably different to that of the girls in Ponyboy's school. Girls like Cherry, with iron pressed dresses and immaculate fashion, porcelain white skin and hair done up without a single fly away.

He was mesmerized. So mesmerized, in fact, that he didn't hear Johnny the first time he called out to him.

"What?" He mumbled, not tearing his gaze away from her.

Johnny smirked, hands shoved in his pockets. "I said, why don't you go talk to her?"

Ponyboy feigned ignorance, shaking his head to clear his thoughts as he folded his arms. "Who? What are you talking about?"

His friend chuckled and nodded in the girl's direction. "Her. That chick you've been staring at for five minutes. You should go talk to her."

Ponyboy blushed, rolling his eyes and frowning defensively. "I wasn't staring."

"Man, you got goo-goo eyes that can be spotted from a mile away." Johnny laughed, "If you like her, go introduce yourself."

Ponyboy glared at him, wishing for a moment that his friend didn't know him so well. He did, however, wish he had Soda's knack with the ladies. He'd never been good with girls. "Naw, man, she won't want nothin' to do with me," he mumbled, "we're greasers, remember?"

Johnny looked at him knowingly, hand reaching for a cigarette in his pocket. "And does it look like anyone around here cares?"

That stopped Pony's immediate protest, which fell silent in his throat. Truth be told, every soul he'd seen so far looked like they had much bigger problems to deal with. They hadn't gotten a single jeer about their status the entire trip, much less a second glance. Johnny was right- either they were too nice to say anything, or didn't have time to care. It was an odd feeling to not have to worry about whether you were a greaser or a soc, like a weight he'd grown used to carrying all his life had been lifted and he suddenly didn't know what to do without it.

His thoughts fell back to the girl, and he took a deep breath, looking back at Johnny who gave him an encouraging nod. This is insane, he scolded himself as he walked up to her, you're just gonna make a bigger fool of yourself. Maybe you can just turn back now and pretend none of this ever-

"Can I help you?" Her voice was wasn't proper and prim like the girls he was familiar with, but it had a different kind of tone to it, something that for some reason reminded him of raw honey.

He froze, face red as he fumbled for something, anything to say. "Uh… Hi." Nice going, genius.

A confused smile twisted at her lips and she eyed him perplexedly, brown orbs like fresh soil after a spring rain. "Hi…"

Oh, man, he was drowning here. This is all Johnny's fault, he thought to himself frantically, the first chance I get and I- "My name's Markella. You are…?"

He coughed, shaking himself out of his stupor. Name, you idiot, say your name! "Ponyboy. I'm… Ponyboy."

Markella raised an eyebrow but nodded, reaching out her hand for him to shake.

He prayed to whatever god existed that she couldn't feel the sweat that was on his palms or the shakiness of his normally steady hands. Her skin was not flawless or silky smooth like most would think a girl's ought to be. It was rough from work and dry from the wind and sun, yet delicate and more feminine than any girl he'd ever met.

"Welcome to L.A., I guess… What brings you out to row with the other slaves?" She mused, leaning against the wall as she continued peering out the window.

The question was so personal, so big, but so far everybody seemed to share one common factor: shitty lives. If he told her the truth as to why he was here, she probably wouldn't bat an eye. "I ran away from home. My brother couldn't care less 'bout what happens to me." He muttered, looking down at his feet.

"What about your parents?" Markella asked, "Didn't they hunt ya down?"

"My parents are dead." Ponyboy stated flatly.

Markella paused, taking in the sight of the somber boy before her. "Oh. Mine, too."

Ponyboy's head whipped up so fast that he swore his neck almost snapped. "Car accident?" He ventured, voice shaky.

Her eyes got a faraway look in them, and he wondered if he went too far. He knew from experience that it was thin ice to walk on. But instead, she calmly shook her head. "My dad sold meth. One night a customer got angry, shot 'em both."

A chill ran up Ponyboy's spine, and almost dizzyingly fast, things were put into perspective. His parents died in a car accident. It was a freak happening, nobody was at fault. Markella's were murdered in cold blood. He couldn't imagine what that would feel like, having to know his parents were killed by another hand. "... I'm sorry." He said quietly.

"Don't be." She bit quickly, but the sharpness in her voice was not directed at him. "They never wanted me. I hardly saw 'em, anyway."

An awkward silence fell over the two, neither of them knowing what to say. Feeling as though his face might catch on fire if it got any redder, Ponyboy desperately tried to change the subject, but before he could utter a word, she beat him to it.

"So, you ever been in foster care?" She asked, dark eyes glimmering in the fading sun.

Ponyboy snorted at the thought. Being tossed around from stranger to stranger? No way. That was the one thing that he and his brothers could always agree on- come hell or high water, there was no way in hell they'd ever surrender to the state's half-assed 'family placement' ideas. Guess it don't make no difference now, Ponyboy thought soberly, I got separated from 'em anyway… Oh, Soda, please don't think I hate you. Please don't put this on yourself… "No." Ponyboy finally confirmed, swallowing hard.

Markella chuckled, voice surprisingly strong. "Oh, man, you've been missing out."

Ponyboy's eyes widened, and he gaped at her. "You mean… You actually liked it?" He braced himself for a sappy story about her finding a family she'd actually gotten along with, but her reply couldn't be further in difference.

"Are you kidding? It's a free ticket to looting! Got shipped around to 20 different houses in five months, and swindled each and every one of them. Stole right from under their fat ass noses." She grinned.

Ponyboy laughed out loud, heartily and fully, before he could stop himself. He imagined her slithering through the mansions of one of those soc's, grabbing whatever she could find as she left them in hysterics. It was a picture for the century. "Really?"

Markella was smiling proudly, and withdrew a gold pocket watch from her jacket. "See this?"

Ponyboy's eyes bulged as he nodded, staring at the shiny gold rolex. That thing is worth two years of Soda's salary, he thought absently.

"I got this dandy little trinket from a sucker in Phoenix. He was the weirdest tool I'd ever come across, I swear. He did all kinds of strange things." Markella mused.

"Like what?" Ponyboy inquired, genuinely interested. Before he knew it, they were both sitting down, laughing, exchanging stories until late into the night. Johnny sat playing jacks with Eddy, watching his friend happily. The more Ponyboy talked with Markella, the more he seemed to forget about his troubles as he let her sweep him up in her tales of hilarity and sarcasm. Everything about this girl was exotic; her attitude, her appearance, her views on life, everything. She was nothing like Cherry Valance. He liked Cherry, he really did, but he knew they could never be friends. Not with her being a soc and he a greaser- that was totally out of the question. He told Markella all about Tulsa- about the West side rich kids and the East side greasers. And, to his ever growing surprise, she didn't judge him. She didn't turn her nose at his situation, didn't murmur anything remotely insulting. She just punched him good naturedly in the shoulder and told him that she herself had run into a few socs, and that they had bigger sticks up their asses than she thought humanly possible. This had sent him into another spiral of laughter, and before he knew it, they were both yawning and rubbing their eyes. It had to be at least 1 am.

"I hate to break up the fun, but I need my weekly four hours of sleep." Markella said, earning a chuckle from Ponyboy.

The greaser looked over at Johnny, ever loyal Johnny, who was still awake but barely, refusing to go to sleep before he knew Pony was safe with him and Eddy. Ponyboy turned to Markella, smiling through the darkness. "Yeah… Me too. So… Will you still be here tomorrow?" He asked.

Markella paused, looking away, curls falling in strands about her face. "I don't know… I was planning on heading north, but I don't think I can now."

Ponyboy frowned. "Why not?"

In the dark of the house, he could see her blush. "'Cause I met this really cool kid who I wanna see again tomorrow."

Ponyboy felt his stomach swoop and his cheeks get hot. His palms were sweaty and he gulped. Did she really just say that she liked me? Is that seriously happening? His mind raced frantically, unable to make sense of this. "I… Uh… Well, um… Yeah, I-I-"

Markella laughed softly, turning over on her side as she curled up to go to sleep. "Goodnight, Ponyboy."

Ponyboy rubbed his messy hair in awe, dragging himself over to sleep next to Johnny, who was watching him with wisdom beyond his years. "Yeah… Goodnight." Ponyboy whispered in reply, and in the world he had been living in made only of sorrow and fear, something else began to grow, shining with the possibility of hope in the form of a girl named Markella.