As آپ push, آپ see Soda sprint down the hallway past your room in his DX shirt, then do a double take and trip back into your hospital room.

“OUT! OUT! Sodapop Curtis آپ get the fuck outta this room right now یا so help me we are never having anymore children. You’ll be lucky if آپ even get to have sex with me anymore!” آپ scream at him.

The look of pure fear crosses Soda’s face, and he bolts out of the room.

آپ see Ponyboy out of the corner of your eye biting his lip, trying not to laugh.

آپ hear Soda from the hall. “You’re doing great, sweetheart.”

“Oh shut the hell up I don’t need any encouragement. I’ve been doing fuckin fine on my own, thank آپ very much!” آپ yell. A contraction hits, making آپ push. آپ squeeze Ponyboy’s hand. Hard. He winces.

“Come on! I’m the one pushing a baby out of my boy-howdy and your wincing because I’m holding your hand to hard?” آپ ask in disbelief.

“You have a death grip on me!” Ponyboy accuses.

“Hey, be nice to her!” Soda yells from the hall.

“Shut up, Curtis!” آپ yell back at him.

“I love آپ babe, you’re doing-“

“Yeah yeah love آپ too.” آپ say.

The doctor chuckles, amused. “Well, I’m thinking two مزید pushes and were gonna have a baby.”

“Well it’s about fuckin time.” آپ groan.

Another contraction. آپ push.

“Ok, keep pushing.” The doctor says. آپ scrunch your face from the pain. آپ squeeze Ponyboy’s hand even harder than آپ were before.

All of a sudden, a baby cries.