"So I'd fight if I thought it'd do any good. I think I'm going to leave town. Take my little old Mustang and all the dough I can carry and get out." "Running away won't help." "Oh, hell, I know it," Randy half-sobbed, "but what can I do? I'm marked chicken if I punk out at the rumble, and I'd hate myself if I didn't. I don't know what to do." "I'd help you if I could," I said. I remembered Cherry's voice: Things are rough all over. I knew then what she meant. He looked at me. "No, you wouldn't. Tm a Soc. You get a little money and the whole world hates you." "No," I said, "you hate the whole world." He just looked at me — from the way he looked he could have been ten years older than he was. I got out of the car. "You would have saved those kids if you had been there," h said. "You'd have saved them the same as we did." "Thanks, grease," he said, trying to grin. Then he stopped. "I didn't mean that. I meant, thanks, kid." "My name's Ponyboy," I said. "Nice talkin' to you, Randy." I walked over to Two-Bit, and Randy honked for his friends to come and get into the car. "Whaf d he want?" Two-Bit asked. "Whaf d Mr. Super-Soc have to say?" "He ain't a Soc," I said, "he's just a guy. He just wanted to talk." "You want to see a movie before we go see Johnny and Dallas?" The Outsiders, S.E. Hinton 99