Before My Time - fan4forever - The Outsiders (2024)

Chapter 1: Guinea Pig

Chapter Text

July, 2016

"Bri!" I heard someone call for me. Sitting back against the plushy couch in the living room of my best friend's house, I glanced over my shoulder to see her running towards me.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"You must try this," she stated. She handed me what I naturally assumed was water in a glass beaker.

"What is this?" I asked, flexing my lips in disgust at the mysterious request.

"Just try it." She seemed so excited, she gets really invested in her science experiments at my expense.

"Not until you tell me what it is." I frowned as I spun the liquid around in the cup.

"Please!" She begged.

I gave in and took the little tasteless shot. I smacked my tongue against my teeth as Lillian stared at me for a few long seconds. I looked at her impatiently, waiting for something to happen. Maybe a stabbing feeling of one of my kidneys erupting like a volcano in my body.

"Dammit." She marched off muttering to herself and I could see her blonde messy bun bobbing up and down in rhythm with her stomping.

Lillian is my best friend who revolves her life around deranged and unhinged science experiments. She wants to create an invention to make a single person time travel. Crazy, right? I certainly thought so. She has been talking about it for years. She is very committed and wants me to be her guinea pig for every little thing she tries. She has yet to succeed.

Lillian has been my best friend for the past seven years, so I have to support her no matter what. She was too determined and proud to let me tell her that time travel would never work. She gets that crazy look in her eye whenever she has an idea and refuses to rest until it's complete.

One day, she wanted to try something different. Instead of ingesting something that is likely poisonous, she sat me down on a chair in her well-lit kitchen and put a headband made of metal around my head. It was connected to a homemade looking box with lots of moving gears and gadgets in it. She plugged it into an electrical outlet, and that's when I got nervous.

"Will I get electrocuted?" I asked, obviously anxious. I held the side plastic pads of the metal headband tenderly as she secured it tightly to my scalp.

"Probably not." She shrugged.

"Probably?!" I repeated hysterically.

"Just relax. Here." She handed me this other thing made of metal that was in the shape of a "T". She made me put it in between my legs. It was a scorching hot summer in Tulsa, my bare legs hugged the metal bar and turned them ice cold.

"Okay..." Lillian muttered to herself as she flipped some switches, and turned some knobs on the box.

"What year?" She asked, about to set a dial.

"Eh?" I asked. I didn't comprehend what she had asked. I could not grasp it. That is not a question that a normal person should be asking.

"What year do you want to travel to?" Lillian asked a little slower. I have never seen this look in her eyes before. A look of optimism, excitement, and severe confidence.

"How about 1965," I suggested. I only chose that year because it was the first thing to pop into my head. It was far enough away so Lillian would feel supported by me with my blind sense of optimism that this would work.

"Isn't that the same year as The Outsiders that we read in 8th grade with Mr. Johnson?"

"Oh, you're right. I totally forgot about that," I laughed nervously.

We were in the same English class when we read that book and watched the movie. It was something that we bonded over in that miserable class. It's a non-fiction book about a group of teenagers here in Tulsa who go through the struggle of being a Greaser in the 60s. It was written by some kid for his English paper, but he talks about his struggles with being an orphan in the lower class compared to those on the other side of the tracks. It's pretty interesting, and I would love to see how accurate the book is to the real thing.

"That's actually perfect. When this works, you'll basically already know everything you need to," she said.

"Right.Ifthis works out," I mumbled.

"Ready?" She asked. An unusual twinkle sparkled in her blue eye.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I said. I didn't really think that it would work, but I really need to support her with everything she does. She supports me.

She flipped a switch and I felt a slight tingle of electricity around the metal I was holding that evolved into something painful that shot throughout my entire body. I felt my spine crack all the way up to my neck and all I saw was white. There was a loud ringing in my ears and the white got brighter and brighter. I couldn't believe it actually worked!

Aha, no. I was suddenly in the hospital. My parents were sitting in the chairs beside me, waiting impatiently for me to wake up.

"What the hell?" I asked. Looking around, seeing wires coming out of the hospital gown. My legs had a slight pain, and when I shifted I felt some sort of gauze or bandage stuck to the inside of my thighs.

In my panic, I tried to sit up but my mom stopped me. "Don't sit up, honey."

"What's going on?" I asked as I sunk back down in the bed.

"Brianna, you are in the hospital," my mom said, bending over me. I knew it was serious because my mother used my full first name.

"Why?" I didn't exactly remember what had happened before my mom told me.

"You got electrocuted," Mom said gently.

I rolled my eyes. Lillian's inventions have made me puke, get a fishy taste in my mouth for a week straight, and has burned at least two whole shirts. This is the first time I've been put in the hospital because of her.

New record for us.

"The doctor said that it was enough bolts of electricity to be the equivalent of a not-very-severe lightning strike." My dad high-fived me. "How does it feel?"

"Full of energy." I joked. My mom was not amused.

I also felt quite exhausted. This was a horrible mistake. I never want to do this again, although it was also quite electrifying. No pun intended. I really do love adventure and thrill. It'll make a great story to tell.

Lillian came to visit me as much as she could. My parents were annoyed with her, but not mad. Well, my mother was a little pissed off but she kept her emotions in check and didn't make Lillian feel worse than she already did. The guilt was eating Lillian alive,Ialmost felt bad for her. She brought me flowers, balloons, and my favorite candy every time she stopped by.

I was in the hospital for a few days to recover, living off of hospital food pretty much the entire time. I can never eat green jello again.

Chapter 2: Welcome to 1965

Chapter Text

July 17, 2017

Less than a year later, I had full feeling in every part of my body again and I was completely healed. I acquired slight burns on my legs that eventually went away with a bit of scaring. Luckily, I didn't get any scaring on my forehead.

Lillian is of course still my best friend, and I still visit her often. She just doesn't make me try everything for her all the time anymore, which I'm okay with. She was very apologetic after I was out of the hospital. She came by everyday with chocolate and the promise that she would never try to kill me again.

On this particular summer afternoon, I was at my own house, practically dying from heatstroke. It was a boiling day, so I was wearing a pair of light weight linen shorts and a black swim top. I had an ice pack on the back of my neck as I listened to the radio. Sprawled out over my couch, I used my tanned arm to cover my eyes and an electrical fan was blowing in my face and glistening bare stomach. During the song breaks, the announcers would comment on the insanely hot weather then continue playing upbeat summer songs.

I got a text from Lillian, and she asked me to come over. I threw the ice pack back in the freezer, applied some sunscreen, and got dressed. I replaced my bikini top with my favorite black cotton ribbed tank top because it doesn't show any stains when I'm sweating from the intense heat, and the scooped neckline is really flattering, along with a pair of jean shorts. My younger sister was over at a friend's house, so I didn't bother to ask if she wanted to come with. My parents are at work, but later they're going out of town with Lillian's parents for a trip. I sent my mom a text saying I was going to head over to Lillian's, and I began my drive.

I listened to my own summer music playlist as I drove over to Lillian's house. I groaned when the gas light came on, so I detoured to my favorite gas station, theGrease Monkey. It's not the closest one to my house, but it's easy to get to and the gas is cheaper over there. They also have a car service garage, so I usually go there when my tires need to be filled or if my oil needs to be changed. I pulled up to one of the few pumps and turned off my car. The little white gas station still has an old gasoline sign that sticks out over the door, and the front of the building says that they've got oil and grease, and that they offer towing. Other signs by the front door say that they've got ice cold drinks, and candies inside. I stepped out of my car and put my debit card into the pump. I plugged in my PIN, and let my car drink up the gasoline.

I leaned against my car as the gas chugged into my tank. I crossed one leg over the other, and I slipped a pair of black sunglasses on my head. It was so hot, I thought I might melt on the spot. I could see the heat haze waving over the asphalt, I swear I could smell it. I need an ice cream cone or an ice bath or something.

A beat up pick-up truck pulled in, and an older guy got out of the drivers seat. He was tall, and had curly dark salt-and-pepper hair with a cigarette tucked behind his ear. His nose was crooked, like it's been broken multiple times in his youth. He had a long jagged scar that shined in the sun that dragged from his temple down to his chin. He reminded me of an alley cat. His faded blue eyes locked to mine for a moment, so I flicked my sunglasses down to the bridge of my nose and crossed my arms over my chest and tried to ignore him.

He started getting his own gas pumped, and he said to me with his grating voice, "real nice."

I looked at him with wide eyes. I dipped my chin down and pulled my sunglasses down my nose enough for me to see him over the frame. "Excuse me?"

"The weather. It's real nice," he stated with a grim and bitter smile.

"Oh, yeah."

Weirdo. This is just not my day.

I glanced at the number of gallons I have paid for but I was only about halfway there. I looked back over my shoulder at the gas station's store, and decided to head in there until that guy drove off or at least until my gas tank was full. I was hungry anyway so I decided to just get some chips and look for an ice cream. I ran my fingers through my curly hair after the wind blew the strands in my face, so I walked into the gas station.

Just as I put my hand on the metal handle, the older man called out to me, “don’t break too many hearts, okay?”

My entire body shuddered with disgust. It made me so uncomfortable, who says that? I shouldn’t have turned around to face him, but I did. I forced a smile in acknowledgment, then I slipped into the building. A little bell chimed when I walked in. I pushed my sunglasses back up on my head, letting it naturally pull my dark hair back. There were a couple of other people in there, so I walked around aimlessly while glancing out the window to see if that guy was still there. He was, but he wasn't paying attention to me anymore.

I could barely hear the Johnny Cash song that was playing throughout the gas station because the old air conditioning unit was making so much racket. Not like it does much, it was still terribly hot in there. I headed to the back where the freezers are, and they were completely out of ice cream. I sighed, and grabbed a chilled Diet co*ke instead. I walked down the isles until I found the chips, so I grabbed a small bag of normal potato chips and headed for the register.

The cashier helped out the guy in front of me, and when it was my turn I set the chips and the Diet co*ke down on the counter. I grabbed a few bills from my pocket and waited for him to ring me up.

The cashier was an older guy as well. I see him every time I come in here, and he is always pretty nice to me. He's the owner. He has a full head of gray hair, and he is quite tall and lean. He has soft gray eyes, and both of his wrinkled arms were full of tattoos. There was something dark and faded on his right arm that I couldn't quite make out. I think it’s a bird. He asked in a raspy voice, "that guy bothering you?"

"Who?" I asked.

He nodded toward the truck that had pulled up next to me.

"Oh, no. It's nothing." I brushed it off.

"Okay," he stated in his thick southern accent. "But if he bothers you, you tell me. All right, kiddo? He can be a real blockhead."

"I will," I promised with a soft smile. I handed him my money and asked, "you know him?"

He glanced out the window and sighed softly. "We used to run around together back in the 60s. Hoodlums, we were. We grew up on the same streets. He wasn't my friend or nothing, but we had each other's back."

He gave me back my change. "Thanks."

"Have a good day, darling," he said as I grabbed my chips and the soda.

"You too," I said back.

I walked briskly back to my car. I put the pump back, and I rejected the receipt because the amount I just paid for gas was like a knife in my heart. I jumped into my car and fixed my sunglasses over my eyes again just before I put on my seatbelt. I noticed the guy still standing by his truck, but he was looking at my car. I made eye contact with him through his reflection in the side mirror, and he squinted, as if he was trying to place me in his mind. I certainly didn't recognize him, and I didn't want to stick around. I started my car and pulled out of the gas station so I could begin my drive to Lillian's place.

She didn't lock her door, so I waltzed right in. She was in the kitchen, getting herself a glass of southern iced tea and she asked what took me so long. I told her that I went to get gas so I also stopped for a soda, and a bag of chips after telling her about the weird interaction I had at the pump. I washed my hands to get the gas station residue off of me and stayed at her kitchen counter while she went into her inventing room. I opened the bag of chips and started munching.

There was a brief knock at the front door. I ignored it, assuming it was a delivery but whoever it was knocked again. I glanced over my shoulder, hoping that Lillian would answer it since it's her house. She didn't come out to the living room, so I groaned as I walked to the door.

I opened it and there stood my sophom*ore math teacher. I haven't seen him since last school year. He looked just as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

"Hi, Bri. Is Lillian there?" He asked rather nervously.

"Yeah, she's in her room. Can I help you?" I asked. Why was he here? This is very odd.

"I have to give this to her," he said and handed me an envelope. "Can you make sure she gets this, please?"

"Yeah, I will," I promised and grabbed the brittle yellow envelope from him. He thanked me, and I shut the door. I haven't spoken to him in over a year, and even though Lillian and I both had his class that didn't answer why he showed up on her doorstep in the middle of summer. I don't think he ever really liked me.

I glanced at the envelope and inspected the handwriting on the front. It looked familiar, but the writing had been smudged a bit and the paper looked worn and old. Lillian's name was written on the front, so I absentmindedly tossed it on the kitchen counter and sat at the table where my bag of potato chips were lonely.

"Bri?" She asked, coming out of herinvention room. It's just a bonus room in her house with her chemistry sets, equipment, and blueprints. I've only been in there a couple times, but never for long. It is overwhelming and I don't want to accidentally break something. It's where she creates all of her inventions. She also had welding equipment and tools in there too.

"Yeah?" I was eating my chips at her kitchen counter and sipping the iced tea while looking at my phone.

"Will you help me with something?" She asked.

"Yeah, sure," I said as I licked the salt from my fingers. I set my phone down on the counter beside my little pouch for loose coins, my drivers license, debit card, and extra bills. I followed her into her invention room.

She stopped me and said, "bring your phone."

"Why?"

"Just do it," she said.

I retreated back to the counter and slipped my phone into my back pocket. I wasn't sure what her plan was, so I grabbed the pouch and put that in my pocket too. Someone might need to ID me later if this goes south.

I trotted back over to Lillian as I said, "oh, before I forget, there's a letter for you on the counter."

"A letter?" She asked.

"Yeah, Mr. Kenner came by."

"Kenner? Why?" She made a face.

"I don't know, I didn't read your mail," I chuckled.

"I'll look at it later."

I froze when I saw the same machine that sent me to the hospital in the first place, sitting peacefully on the table.

"I figured out what was wrong!" She then followed that statement with lots of science talk that I couldn't keep up with.

"Come on, man. I was at the hospital less than a year ago," I said, "I'm pretty sure getting electrocuted is a serious thing."

She begged again. Whined even. Guilted me into submitting to her madness. She promised again and again that this time it wouldn't hurt me.

I finally gave in. "Fine! But you have to pay for my hospital bills if it happens again."

"Deal." She crossed her heart. Lillian is just a teenager with only a couple of bucks to her name, I could tell she was serious.

The familiar fastening of the metal headband wrapped around my forehead, and the cold bar between my legs. The déjà vu was intense, and all I could imagine was the feeling of getting struck by lightening. My hands shook slightly out of adrenaline and fear. How was she so sure that it wasn't going to happen again? I could hear the lecture I would receive from my parents already.

The hot summer season never seemed to part from Tulsa. My jean shorts did not cover my legs enough for the metal bar, which pressed around my lightened scars. I readjusted my plain black tank top, and pushed my curly brown hair back behind my shoulder. I blew air out between my lips anxiously, just waiting to wake up in the hospital again.

Lillian flipped more switches and twisted more knobs and set the date to April 1, 1965, just like last time. I wasn't sure why April 1st was the day she chose, but I didn't care enough to ask.

"How do you know that this won't f*ck me up?" I asked nervously.

"This one ain't plugged in like the other one was. If it doesn't work, nothing will happen," she promised.

"Okay," I said wearily.

"Ready?" She asked excitedly.

I couldn't tell if she genuinely believed this would work. She seemed thrilled by my acceptance of being the subject of her experiment again, but if she believed this would work wouldn't she explain to me how to use the machine so I could get back home? Did she have a system in place where it would take me back to 2017 instantly? Or did she know it wasn't going to work so she didn't bother, but just needed to test it out to see what was wrong?

"Ready." I was throughly prepared for a disaster. I was ready to see death. There was a large lever on the machine that wasn't there last year. Lillian wrapped her hand around it and hesitated for a moment before she flipped it.

I once again saw a familiar burst of white light that blinded me and a familiar ear-splitting ringing in my ears. I squeezed my hazel eyes shut and waited for it to be over, desperate for it to be quick. As soon as it started, the light disappeared with the ringing ceased as well.

I wiggled my fingers slightly, expecting to feel fabric covering my knuckles. Instead I felt the metal tube that my fingers surrounded, and it was slightly warm.

Curious, I opened my eyes and discovered that I was in a field. I had no pain, just the blinding light that left colorful dots in my vision.

"What the hell?" I asked to no one. The Time Machine was still connected to me so I ripped it off and scrambled up to my feet. I looked around, and there was nothing but a dirt road that cut through a green field with a sign up ahead.

I looked down at myself and tapped on my stomach, my chest, and my shoulders. I was still here, I was alive. At least I thought so. I clenched my jaw and my breathing got heavier the more I realized that there was a chance that maybe I might have traveled back in time. I wasn't certain, I refused to accept it, but I couldn't think of another explanation that made sense.

I snapped my head back to the Machine and shoved it behind a large rock so no one could find it again until I figured out what to do. It was too big and awkward for me to carry everywhere. My mind was still running with all sorts of solutions as to what most likely happened. Maybe Lillian knocked me out and threw me out the window in the middle of no-where. There was no way that I was in 1965. Time travel is impossible.

When I walked around, my legs were tingling as if they were trying to wake up. I could compare it to being a kid and jumping off the playground and landing on straight legs. I took my phone out and somehow found a light signal. I entered Lillian's address to look up how to get back to her house and the search came up empty. Tried again and no results were found.

"Are you kidding me?" I huffed. I looked up another address and my phone told me to take a right. I walked down the dirt road, passing the sign that said that Tulsa was only a few miles away. I hope this lonely, broken road leads me straight to where I need to be. I followed it until it reached a regular cement road with pot holes and loose gravel.

After lots of tiresome walking, I finally found the center of town. It was like a beam of light at the end of a three mile long tunnel. It did look different; the paint on the buildings were brighter, brilliantly colored canopies covered the entrances to buildings down the strip, even the bricks of some establishments lacked of any dullness or chipping. Neon signs were glowing despite the sun casting down on the warm and clear day.

I swear I could hearMister Sandmanplay as I stumbled down the street, distracted by everything in this burgeoning town while exploring. I felt like I stepped into a film of technicolor hues. Colors here were so vibrant and had such a high contrast and saturation levels, I envied how lively and colorful the world used to be. I took my phone off the maps application and tried to call Lillian. Apparently that number doesn't exist.

If this was a prank, it was planned perfectly.

The same old buildings I grew up with were now well kept and clean, the street was bustling with Thursday morning activity. There was a women's boutique nearby selling some of the latest fashion trends from sixty years ago, and a car dealership was selling classic cars. I stumbled past a record store that had records and albums from The Beatles, Elvis, The Beach Boys, The Supremes, The Animals, and more 60s artists in their windows. At every corner I saw posters highlighting the upcoming mayor election for Tulsa, supporting either the election of James Hewgley Jr, or the re-election of James L. Maxwell. The movie theater had a big sign that said they were playingDear Brigitte, starring Jimmy Stewart, Brigitte Bardot, and Fabian.

I walked right into the little town square and saw everyone dressed very retro. In vintage dresses and hairdos, and lots of boys were wearing navy blue and gold Varsity jackets and sweaters. Sweaters? What kind of school has Varsity sweaters?

It felt like everyone was staring at me. Anxious, I ran into the first place I could and asked for the phone. It was called Rusty's. They've got numerous signs all over the building that say that they provide breakfast, lunch, and dinner and that they have coffee, sandwiches, hot cakes, homemade pie, milkshakes, hamburgers, beef, and baked ham. Tuffs of dead grass and brown weeds were sprouted all around the building, baked from the unforgiving sun.

I stumbled into the soda shop and the door closed behind me. There was ketchup, mustard, sugar, and syrup at every table. The linoleum floors were of different shades of brown, which complimented yet insulted the wood panel walls. The chairs and tables were grey, but the counter top and other appliances were corn yellow or brown like the desert sand. The shades that blocked the diner from the blazing sun were a rainbow of faded pastel shades, which brought some color into the dull yellow and brown hues of the diner.

Behind the counter was a milkshake station, where they advertised malts, sundaes, cones, and floats. Napkins, salt and pepper, sugar, and straws were placed strategically across the counter for those sitting at the cafe bar. There was a jukebox against the wall, which was playing a soft honky-tonk tune.

Everyone looked like they came out of the movieGrease. They were eating burgers, fries, and shakes. It was a soda shop I didn't recognize. I think this place is now a historical restaurant, but I've never been to it.

When I asked for the phone, the soda jerk gave me a weird look and used his thick thumb to jab it over to where the bathroom sign hung. I rushed back there and I quickly dialed as many numbers as I knew. They were all non existent.

"Jesus, dammit," I grunted as I threw the receiver back down with a harsh thud.

"Don't go breaking my telephone," the soda jerk called out to me.

I stomped back out and faced him. Due to my frustration and obvious confusion I accidentally yelled, "where the hell am I?"

"Tulsa." He gawked at me.

"Oklahoma?" I asked with my eyebrows raised.

"That's right. Are you okay?" He furrowed his eyebrows while wiping the counter down with a white rag.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." My voice was shaking. How was I so close to home yet so far away?

"You look like you need something to eat. You gonna order somethin', honey?"

I stammered but shook my head. "I—uh—no, no thank you."

I stumbled out of the soda shop and turned around abruptly, nearly bumping into a mother and her son walking past on the sidewalk. I apologized and finally my eyes zoned in on a phone booth. I grabbed some change from the pouch I had in my back pocket and thumbed it into the coin slot. I tapped my thumb against the buttons as I thought of a number to dial, and ended up calling the one number that helps everyone in an emergency.

"Tulsa Police department, how may I help you?" A lady answered.

"Hi, yes, hi. Can you please tell me what day it is?"

"Pardon me, Miss?" The lady almost had that transatlantic accent you hear in the old movies, but not as thick.

"What day is it? What is today's date?" I asked sternly, yet I kept my voice low in case anyone heard me.

"It's Thursday April 1, 1965, Miss. Do you want me to call someone for you?" Her voice was calm. I hoped she didn't have the technology to track my call to send people to whisk me away to the looney bin.

"No. No. No." I chanted to myself, rubbing the back of my neck. Trying to wrap my mind around this incident. I glanced out to the street, where I saw a cherry red 1964 Chevy cruising down the street. I spun around as it drove past me, watching it drive off with my eyes wide and jaw clenched.

"Is there something wrong, Miss?" The kind operator asked.

"No. I'm fine," my voice trailed off. Then I had an idea on how I could try to communicate with Lillian. It was a way I remembered seeing on a movie once, it was probablyBack to the Future.

I tried to remember some of the teachers I knew who were working at the Will Rogers High School and could have potentially been working there, at this time, or at least gone to school there. I just needed someone I knew in 2017 to be there.

"Will you tell me the number of the school district?" I asked confidently.

"Of course! Hold on." I heard the sound of papers being shifted around through the phone and she gave me the number.

"Thanks." I hung up and put in a few more coins to dial the school districts number. Then, I was transferred to the high school's front desk.

"Will Rogers High School, this is Alice," the receptionist greeted.

"Hi, can you please tell me if Mrs. Fernandaz is working at the high school?" I asked. She was the Spanish teacher at our school freshman year, right before she retired. I never took her class, but Lillian did.

"I'm sorry but she doesn't."

"What about Mr. Henri?" I asked, hoping that the history teacher was as old as he looked.

"No."

"Mr. Kenner?" At this point I was running out of options. He is one of the oldest teachers there. He has been saying he is going to retire since my freshman year, but he has yet to leave.

"There is a Mark Kenner at the school but he is a student."

"That's perfect!" I exclaimed a little too enthusiastically. I cleared my throat to try to bring my tone back to normal so I could ask, "will you please tell me where he lives?"

"Unfortunately, I cannot disclose that information."

"Oh, I am his father's secretary and Mark left his school bag at the office. It needs to be returned to him," I blurted. I squeezed my eyes shut, and my fist clenched around the receiver. That was the dumbest lie I have ever thought of, but I panicked.

"Oh, of course. One moment."

She gave me his exact address.

What kind of time was this?!

I hung up and typed his address into my phone and casually strolled to his house. At least I had a vague idea of what to do instead of going around aimlessly like a chicken with its head cut off. It was almost soothing to have a clear path. The air felt cleaner than in 2017 and I did my best to avoid people on the street. I kept getting gawked at by literally everyone. From teenagers, to adults, to little kids licking lollipops. Why was I sticking out like a sore thumb?

I had swiped a piece of paper and a pencil from a girls open back pack when she was walking too slow in front of me and I stopped at a bench to write exactly what has happened to me and that her invention truly worked. Lillian won't be getting it for another fifty-two years, but I didn't know how else to tell her. I honestly didn't even know how to get back to my time. She should have taught me how to work the Time Machine. I'll figure it out sometime, I hope.

I accidentally grabbed two pieces of paper, but it worked to my favor. I used the blank one to create an origami envelope, like how my mom taught me when I was young.

I did recognize the street name, so I was able to locate the house easily. There was an old car in the driveway, and the entire front of the house was built with brick. I knocked on the wooden front door and a few seconds later a nerdy teenager opened it. He looked uncanny to Mr. Kenner, which was super weird. I still wanted to believe that this was still a prank.

"Hi, are you Mark?" I asked. He wore a white and blue plaid shirt tucked into clean blue jeans. He sported an old fashioned Crew Cut.

"Yes, and you are?" He looked me up and down scornfully, clearly confused by my outfit. Maybe that's why people keep staring at me. It guess it is very scandalous here in 1965.

"My name is... Audrey," I lied and it was the first name I could think of that felt like it fit the vibes of the 1960s. I wasn't going to give him my real name, just in case. "I have a letter that I need you to give a certain person on a certain day," I blurted. I didn't know to make it subtle. How can anyone make that subtle?

"What? Why?" He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame.

"You are the only person I know who can do it. Please," I begged. I handed him the envelope that had Lillian's name and address with the exact time and date he needed to deliver it written in pencil.

"Who is Lillian Tucker?" He asked, reading the envelope.

"You'll find out."

We both have Mr. Kenner for math Sophom*ore year. It was July when I left, and we are supposed to be going into our senior year in the fall. Hopefully I'll be back in time for it.

"In fifty years! July 17, 2017?! This is ridiculous." He looked at me like I was psychotic.

"I really, really,reallyneed you to do this," I pleaded.

"Why?" He asked.

"It's personal, but you will find out who she is. I even wrote her address on there for you. I need you to deliver this message at the exact date it says on there. I'm really counting on you, please."

"I think you are nuts." He laughed and tried to shove it back in my hands.

"Please. I really need you." I lifted my hands up, refusing to take back the letter.

"Prove it." He squinted.

"Prove what?"

"Prove that you needmefor this outrageous task."

"How?"

"Why do you need me to give this letter to this... Lillian?"

"It's a long story. It really won't be a bother to you. It is literally less than a ten minute drive."

"I know every street name in this here town, and none of them are called... Hunter Street," he read out loud.

"Mr. Kenner. I really need you to do this for me."

"Did you just call me Mr. Kenner?"

"Oh my god. Sorry, Mark," I corrected.

"If I say yes, will you get out of my face?" He chomped on his bubble gum.

"Yes!" I clasped my hands together in hope.

"Then yes."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I squealed. I pointed at the letter and said, "please be super careful with that. That letter is super important and you can't forget."

"I won't. I promise." He smiled weakly at me. Probably out of pity.

I felt satisfied with his promise and left his clean porch steps. It wasn't until I got back to the road that I heard his front door close. I glanced back at the house over my shoulder and noticed him peaking out through the blinds of his window, watching me walk away. My head immediately snapped forward so I didn't make eye contact with him and I kept walking. Maybe I should have given it to the bank or something instead.

It took everything for me not to freeze and trip over my feet in that moment. This was why he showed up at Lillian's doorstep just before I left. He gave me the letter I just wrote for Lillian. He does keep his promise.

My feet were hurting and my legs were sore from all the walking I was doing. I was going to need a car if I wanted to get around in a timely manner, because so far my morning and afternoon had been taken up by just the travel aspect of my adventure.

I came across my high school. The elaborate brick school features two towers at the front corners of the large main block of classrooms that goes up three floors. The entrance is constructed of double doors withWill Rogers High Schoolcarved above them and elaborate designs and carvings of people on the building.

Once I knew where the high school was, I figured out where I was going. I've lived in Tulsa since I was ten years old, but I was born and raised in California. I don't have the southern accent like most people around here do.

People in 1965 need to learn how to mind their own business because everyone was looking at me as if I was prancing around the town naked, or wearing a suit of aluminum. Now that I have accepted that I am the first person to travel through time, there wasn't anything separating me from the rest of them except for my clothes and hair.

Taking my prior knowledge of the 60s, and my own personal style, I went on the hunt for a new wardrobe. I found a little boutique in town that I think is a flower shop in 2017, and I bought a few things I could wear while I'm stuck here.

If the associate noticed the year on my currency and thought it was fake, I wouldn't have a penny to my name. I am far from home, I would have no money, and no way back. There is no way I am willing to ride out the next fifty years to catch up.

I changed out of my tank top and shorts and instead put on loose jeans and a soft periwinkle blue sweater. I think I went into the men's section for the jeans, because I didn't want a skirt or capris. The jeans were definitely a style I'd wear back home so I didn't care. Spring in Tulsa is unbelievably hot as it is, but the sweater was very breathable. I tried to stay away from anything too stereotypical, which included white go-go boots that were to die for but I stuck with my black converse sneakers that I was already wearing.

Using the money that was in my pocket, I paid for my new clothes and shoved my old clothes in the bag. I managed to convince the cashier to break some of my bills so I didn't have to worry about getting caught with new money. By the end of the transaction, all of my bills were made prior to 1965, and the young cashier didn't notice the date on my bills at all.

I wasn't getting the awkward stares anymore, and people paid no more negative attention towards me, which was my goal. I ran my fingers through my hair as it bounced down my back with each step. Now that my appearance was taken care of, I just needed to find a suitable way to transport myself from one place to another.

After counting my money, I took a bus to a nearby cheap car rental company. I was nervous that they would refuse to give me a car because I didn't have a valid ID, but they didn't ask for it. All I had to do was pay for it in advance, and the car was mine. It was a decent black convertible, and I rented it for a week. If I need it longer, I just need to come back and pre-pay for however long I need it. I had to fight tooth and nail for an automatic transmission, I can't drive manual.

I may have a fortune due to inflation but I still need to be careful on how I spend my money. I have a nice paying job back in 2017, and I had been saving up for a long time. I had quite a bit of extra spending money. My purchases were just in case, for the time being. Everything was so cheap, it didn't put a giant dent in my savings as it would have in 2017.

Chapter 3: Sodapop

Chapter Text

April 1, 1965

When I got into the car, it was already very low on gas. I drove to the gas station I normally go to with my own car in 2017. It's an old gas station in town calledGrease Monkey Gas Station. I drove to it and didn't see the familiar sign of the green logo. Instead, I saw two big blue letters that read DX on it.

Wasn't the DX the gas station that Sodapop Curtis and Steve Randle work at? I have not recalled seeing a DX gas station before, so I always figured it was a fake name for the book. I brushed the thought off and I pulled into the station and sat in the silence of the musty-smelling car before finally getting out.

I stood in front of the vintage gas pump, and I was quick to realize that I've never had to use one before.Clearly. I tried to use my prior knowledge of pumps, and found that there was no place for me to put my debit card. It was just a white box with black flip-down numbers that told you the price, and the gallons.

I couldn't find anywhere on the white box to pay, so I just grabbed the pump and stuck it in the cars gas tank and tried to pull the lever.

Nothing came out, obviously.

"The hell?" I circled around the pump, even trying to find a coin slot. I looked around and finally saw a sign that said that you have to pay inside.

Great. This hasdefinitelynot been my day.

My money was in the bag I put my old clothes in, so I leaned into the car and grabbed about $10 before I went inside. Gas can't be too expensive here. I heard clanging and scraping noises coming from the garage behind the store. I wasn't sure how much gas was, so I assumed I would get at the very least half a tank. I felt too optimistic that it would cover the entire thing.

A bell chimed when I opened the door. A light-hearted song was playing in the background and the convenience store was empty of people. I waltzed to the back and grabbed a cold glass bottle of Coca-Cola from the fridge. I glanced around a bit, slowly strolling through the small isles of chips and candy. I inspected the prices, completely baffled by the differences. Tootsie Rolls and Bit-O-Honey's were only a penny, and hot dogs on the counter were selling for just 80¢.

I headed up to the register and placed my soda on the counter. The sound of the air conditioner blowing in the back corner of the store nearly overpowered the lighthearted song that played through speakers throughout the store.

I wanna be Bobby's girl ,
I wanna be Bobby's girl,
That's the most important thing to me,
And if I was Bobby's girl,
If I was Bobby's girl,
What a faithful, thankful girl I'd be.

Each night I sit at home,
Hoping that he will phone ,
But I know Bobby has someone else ,
Still in my heart I pray ,
There soon will come a day ,
When I will have him all to myself .

I drummed my fingers gently on the counter while I waited for someone who was working, humming gently to the tune of the song to keep myself occupied. At least I know some of the music of the 60s. I noticed that the sun was already starting to go down, filling the store with a warm golden glow.

Finally, a guy came up from the garage and wiped his hands on a oil ridden towel and started to press random buttons on the register. He had light honey hair and brown eyes that were warm and friendly. The sunlight even made them sparkle. He had a white name tag that read "Sodapop".

Oh.

My.

God.

"That'll be 14¢." He looked at me, and paused as if he was soaking me in. His smile emerged, big and warm. It flooded over his features and overflowed to his big brown eyes. It engulfed me like a warm wave. It was as if his smile was genuine and only for me.

"I would also like to get some gas." I instinctually smiled back while my heart stopped. The book was right, he was movie star handsome. He had a beautiful smile and handsome features. I had to painfully remind myself that he was probably just putting on a customer service act for me, but I could not help it. I tried not to swoon, but he made it difficult.

"How much?"

"Um...." I was thinking how many gallons I needed. "10?" I have never been too knowledgeable about cars.

"Glory." He laughed and ran his fingers through his greasy hair. His light blue work shirt was opened to a white undershirt, his chest covered in sweat and motor oil. Dark grease was caked around his fingernails, and there was some smeared on his arms and his cheek. "$3. $3.36 for the co*ke too."

"Really?" I asked, never hearing such a low number in my life when it comes to gasoline.

"Really." He raised his eyebrows, like he wasn't used to getting questioned.

I exhaled and handed him a $5. My breath hitched in my throat when I realized this bill was neglected to be exchanged out at the store. I hoped that he wouldn't notice the year on the bill: 2013.

"More than you expected?" He chuckled, taking the bill with shaky hands.

"Less. Hell of a lot less," I chuckled with him.

"Less?" He seemed surprised.

"Where I am from, it's nearly $50 to fill up my tank," I told the truth. "And growing. I've got a friend who has to pay nearly $90 per fill."

"No way. I don't believe ya." He handed me my change back.

"Here, let me prove it." I reached for my phone, which I put in the pocket of my new pants, then I remembered that cell phones weren't invented in 1965.

I discreetly slipped my phone out of the pocket and tucked it into the sleeve of my shirt. When I turn around to leave, I don't want him to be able to see it sticking out of my butt pocket. I mean, if he looks at my butt.

"I have a picture of it but I left it at home..." I lied.

"I'll be working until six o'clock." He shrugged. "Ya, uh, you can stop by a-again."

"It's at the house before I moved here. I left it there," I gulped, hoping he was gullible enough to believe my tall-tale. I was a little thrown off by his stutter. Tongue-tied, maybe?

"Where did you move from?"

"California."

"Glory," he whistled. "That's mighty far. Why'd you move?"

"My, um, my dad got a job down here." Which is actually what happened when we originally moved to Tulsa. That, and because it was closer to family.

"Is he working in construction? They are building houses a few blocks down."

"Yes! He—uh, he is," I agreed a little too quickly.

"Okay," he laughed. "Well, it makes sense since all the fancy folk are over on the west side. I didn't realize how fancy y'all really are over there."

"We really aren't," I promised.

"With $90 gas prices? You could buy a whole other car with that!"

Before I was able to try to defend myself, a voice called out from the garage, "Soda! I need your help out here."

Steve?

"I got to go. It was nice to meet you..." he held his hand out.

"Brianna. Call me Bri." I grabbed it and shook it gently. "And you?"

"Sodapop. Call me Soda."

"Soda? That's a cool name," I said.

"My kid brothers name is Ponyboy."

"My..." I cleared my throat, "my kid sisters name is Jenni." It felt weird to copy him like that.

"Well, Bri, will I see you around?" His smile was literally perfect. He is so flawless, I wish I was at his level of attractiveness because then maybe I would have a chance that he would notice me. He was so beautiful, he can just light up any room. I just can't take my eyes off of him.

I am not the kind of girl who falls for a guy just because he flashes his charming smile at me, even though it seems to go on for miles and miles. He seems friendly, and sweet as sugarcane. With Sodapop Curtis simply just looking at me, I felt like I was over the moon.

"I think so," I said, grabbing my soda and taking a few steps backward. I couldn't stop looking at him, I felt like I was attracted to him like a magnet.

"Then I'll see you soon." He winked and went to the back.

I quickly walked out of the store, with my mind stuck on his gorgeous face. He obviously has amazing people-skills, because he had me swooning at his feet. Even when I put the pump into my tank, I was so distracted that I jumped slightly when the chamber clicked.

I wish gas was still this cheap. If only it was possible to buy gallons upon gallons worth of gas and hide it so I could pick it up if I ever get back to the future.

I hopped in my car and I drove forward a little to peer into the garage, it was a car mechanic shop. I remember the book saying that Soda and Steve live for fixing cars. Especially Steve. I didn't see anyone, so I headed out of the parking lot and drove down the main road.

I stopped for some food at a local Dairy Queen and I was trying to figure out what I should to do next. I brought the meal into the car and I fiddled on my phone while I ate. The battery was oddly never going down, which was good because I didn't have a charger. If it did, I'd have to tune into my inner Lillian and try to make one out of a battery, tin foil, a potato, and wire. It probably wouldn't work, but I'd have to figure something out.

I found that my phone still worked, sort of. I can make calls, as long as it's a number that exists, so I assume that I can take calls too. I can look something up on the internet, and I can use navigation. I cannot send or receive text messages, and absolutely no social media. This included music, I can't play any of the music I always listen to daily so that might have to be the biggest thing I have to get used to. I was surprised that anything on this phone worked at all. I don't imagine I'll be using it much.

Since gas was dirt cheap, I drove around and played little games in my head with the buildings and trees and poles that I recognized and ones that aren't there anymore in the 2017 Tulsa, Oklahoma.

An hour or so had passed by and I was hardcore procrastinating on finding a place to stay for the night. It would have been too hard to get an apartment, and my money would drain way too quickly. I continued to drive around, hoping to find a motel, until I came up behind some guy walking in the road. He was a tall guy in a pale blue shirt that blew in the wind with blue jeans. He carried his black leather jacket over his shoulder, and he was covered in car oil that I could see pretty well since the sun still hadn't fully set yet. I pulled over next to him and flashed my lights to get his attention. I had a strong suspicion that I already knew who it was. He could give me an idea of where I could stay.

He turned around and shielded his eyes from my headlights. He came to the passenger side door and opened it.

"I'm sorry but I don't—" he started. It was Soda! I knew it. "Bri?"

"Soda! I thought that was you." I waved him in and he sat down and closed the door. He must have had a lot of trust in me to come into my car. I felt like I knew him pretty well, even though he had no idea who I am. "Need a ride?"

"That would be great."

"Where do you live?" I asked.

"On the East side of town." He pointed to his hair. With a chuckle he said, "obviously."

"What do you mean?" I asked as I pulled onto the dark road.

"That's right, you're new. This town is separated by... well, I'm a Greaser. You can tell by the leather jacket and the hair."

"I was unfamiliar with the concept." I felt slightly awkward about it. RecallingThe Outsidersbook, I did my best to remember how it used to work back here in Tulsa. I had to remember that it's a completely different culture than in today's standards.

"So, little miss California, are you a Soc?" He asked.

"What causes that?" I lied.

"Where do you live?" He asked.

"I am actually just visiting." I stated, hoping that my answer would ease his curiosity.

"Oh. Just visitin'? Visitin' family?"

"Nope." I didn't want to have to explain myself too much. Thank god he didn't remember that I accidentally already said that I moved down here.

"You ain't no run away, are ya?"

"No! No, I'm not. But... I don't have a place to stay yet. Hoping to find a hotel or a motel or something." I focused on the road. "Got any recommendations?"

"Do you want to stay at my place? My family takes in kids all the time to stay over, but I'm sure my brothers wouldn't care about you stayin' for a bit."

"I couldn't." I shook my head. "I wouldn't want to impose."

"You could never." He chuckled. "I ain't gonna let you leave. Motels and hotels around here ain't so safe for young girls like youse."

I exhaled in annoyance and my lips tightened as I tried not to hide my smile. I don't want to say that I wanted this to happen, because I know the burden that already plagued his family but I was relieved in my own selfish way that I wouldn't have to worry about myself, at least for tonight. "That would actually help me out a lot."

"They might give you a hard time at first. Your clothes and hair scream Soc." He chuckled. I couldn't tell if that was a bad thing or not.

"What would scream Greaser?" I asked.

"These jackets and long hair with grease in it. You'll see."

"Your family won't kick me out or anything, will they?" I asked. Half-jokingly, half-genuinely. I wondered if his parents were alive, or if they died already. I couldn't remember when that happens. And I can't justaskthat.

"They won't bite, darlin'." He laughed. I noticed he was looking over at me, which made me grip the steering wheel tighter.

I giggled at his joke. I felt giddy when he looked at me, I really needed to straighten myself out. I think I was just tired and excited. A lot of things happened today, I just needed a quiet place to rest and really let everything soak into my brain.

He turned the radio up slightly and asked, "who do you listen to?"

My brain scrambled from modern singers to thinking of people he would know. I said, "I love to listen to Elvis, or The Beatles. Or Frank Sinatra."

He nodded in approval and said, "those ain't too bad. You like the rock and roll?"

"Oh, absolutely."

"How do you feel about the older stuff?" He asked.

"Um..." I said, trying to think of what his idea of older songs would be. "Like blues or jazz?"

"Yeah," he said with a shrug.

"Yeah, I like it. I'm old-school like that."

My eyebrows scrunched together as I listened to the radio. I recognized the song as a popular tune released by The Beatles,All My Loving. I turned the radio up just a little more, my brain was really wrapping around the fact that this current radio station is playing a song released in the 1960s, by a band that only played together in the 1960s, and two members are dead as of 2017.

"Is this The Beatles?" I asked him, already knowing the answer but I still couldn't believe it. It really solidified the fact that I am truly in the 60s.

Soda chuckled softly. "It is. You heard of them?"

I turned the radio down a bit so I could hear him better but still allowed the song to play in the background. "I think everyone knows The Beatles. I grew up listening to them, my parents love them."

"How old are you? If I may ask so kindly," he asked.

"Seventeen. How about you?"

"I'm almost seventeen. I just wanted to make sure you ain't some twelve year old," he chuckled.

"A twelve year old driving a car?" I snickered.

"Hey, you never know." He kept laughing.

In 2017, he would be around seventy years old... as old as my grandfather. Hell, my grandpa grew up in Tulsa, it's a big city but Soda might even know him. I didn't like to imagine that, it creeped me out.

"You did say that you grew up listening to The Beatles," Soda continued.

"So?" I asked.

"I mean, I ain't heard of them none until a year ago."

I felt my breath halt in my throat. sh*t... were The Beatles not famous in the United States until 1964? Geez, this is going to be tougher than I thought.

"Yeah, well... you know what I mean. I've felt like I've listened to them my whole life."

"I get that, I s'ppose."

I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying something else that would be off. I'll really have to pay attention to the culture of the 60s if I want to stay inconspicuous and not draw any sort of unwanted attention to myself. So far, I'm not doing a great job.

"Turn here," he said while pointing to the turn that was coming up way too quickly.

I took a sharp right and drove through a quiet neighborhood with smaller looking houses. The deeper we got, we drove past more homes with paint chipping off the wood, broken windows or even windows that were boarded up, graffiti, rundown cars, and overgrown lawns.

"Right here."

I pulled into a driveway with two other cars parked in it. I put the car into park and he refused to get out of the car until I gave him the keys, because he thought I was going to drive away.

"There are seven of us. Ponyboy, Darry, Dally, me, Johnny, Steve, and Two-Bit. Of course they will introduce themselves but I wanted to give you a chance to remember all their names. Ponyboy and Darry are my brothers, Steve is my best friend, I don't know how we know Two-Bit, and Dally and Johnny kinda just joined the group. We call ourselves the Gang."

I already knew all that so it would be easy.

"There is a Dally and a Darry? That's kinda confusing," I said, recalling my thoughts when I first read the book a few years prior.

"Yeah, I guess it is. You ready?"

"Yeah." I unbuckled and met with him outside.

"You buckle your safety belt?" He asked, fighting a grin like he was teasing me.

"You don't?" I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. Took me a second to realize he meant my seat belt.

"Well, it ain't against the law to not wear a safety belt, is it?"

"I don't know, is it?" I asked. How was I supposed to know that?

Soda had to think for a second. "I don't think so. At least I ain't gotten in trouble for it none."

The 1960's was a dangerous time. You'd think that he and his brothers would be stricter about seatbelts considering their parents died in a car accident, leaving them traumatized orphans. Or, perhaps it's the seatbelt that killed them. They were hit by a train, maybe they couldn't unbuckle in time. I don't know, and I will not ask.

"You got any bags?" He asked, and I went back to the car and opened the back to pull out my shopping bag. I held it up in the air and he asked, "that's it?"

"Yeah," I said, not thinking it was too little. I was probably going to leave the next day anyway. He grabbed the bag from me and walked me to the door.

"You travel light." He shook the bag a bit to really feel the weight.

"Just some clothes," I stated.

"There's a new toothbrush in the bathroom you can adopt if you need it. If you need some more clothes, you can always borrow some of Pony's stuff since he's more your size."

"Thanks."

We walked to the front door. I was weirdly excited to meet everyone. The book and movie are still very popular in middle school English classes in 2017, and it was like meeting celebrities from my childhood. But this was 1965, and the book hasn't even been published yet.

Did Soda say Johnny and Dally's name?

They are still alive?

Chapter 4: The Gang

Chapter Text

April 1, 1965
Evening

Soda tapped on the front door a few times before opening it, as if it wasn't his own house. We walked in to the living room. Beyond the living room, was an opening for the kitchen, and there was a little hallway off to the side. Inside, were three guys sitting in the couch, and one on a recliner chair in front of a television showing a black-and-white television show that I did not recognize.

"Bri, this is the gang," Soda said. All their heads snapped toward me and my eyes widened, probably in disbelief that there was a girl in the house. It was kinda dark in the room, even though a few dim yellow lights were on. Two guys were playing cards and one was just leaning back and drinking a beer. The guy in the recliner was asleep.

"Soda! Who's the broad?" A husky guy asked, one of the card players. He scratched one of his side-burns. I guessed he was Two-Bit.

"Guys, this is Brianna. Bri, this is The Gang. This is Two-Bit." He pointed to the familiar husky guy. "This is Steve—" he pointed to a guy wearing a similar blue overshirt. Work uniform. "And this is Dally." He pointed to the beer drinking teenager. It took me a second to match the names with the faces. From the book, I created their faces in my mind of what I thought they would look like. I was a little off, but they were all still very attractive.

"Hey, there," Dally winked at me. I politely smiled and was ready to move on. I remembered that he was the dirty asshole of the group.

"And the man in the chair is my big brother, Darry," Soda said and gestured to the recliner. Darry was asleep with the newspaper on his chest and his head was rolled to the side. Soda chuckled bashfully then said, "I guess he will meet you in the morning."

"Morning?" Two asked with his thick eyebrows raised. "She's staying the night?"

"Yeah, she don't have no place to go," Soda answered.

"Well, then welcome to the Curtis house, miss," Two said with a posh English accent and gave me an elaborate bow. He seems really friendly.

"Hi." I smiled kindly. They still seemed stunned that there was a girl there. Was this taboo? Or maybe I'm just not going to welcomed as easily as I was hoping.

"And there should be two more..." Soda clicked his tongue, looking around the room.

"Johnny and Pony went outside," Steve said and nodded his head in the direction of the back door.

"Why?" He asked.

"Smoke break I think." He shuffled some cards.

"Well, then I'll introduce you guys when they come back in," Soda said. He walked down the hallway and I was about to follow him but Two-Bit's voice made me stop.

"Brianna, can we call you Bri?" Two asked in a humorously sophisticated tone.

"That's fine," I said through my chuckle since Soda literally just introduced me as Bri.

"Bri, there is some beer and pizza in the fridge if ya want any," Two-Bit offered.

"Two-Bit, this ain't your house," Dally snickered. Dally gave off a laid-back and carefree vibe, just like I always pictured him to be. His hair reminded me of blonde David Bowie from the 1980's.

"I'm just tryin' to be friendly," Two defended.

Soda came back from the hallway and told me that he put my bag in his room where I can sleep for the night. I thanked him and followed Soda to the kitchen while I readjusted my jeans a bit, I should have purchased a belt.

"Do you guys have anything else besides beer?" I asked. I tried some once at a New Years Eve party with a few of my friends. One sip and I had to force myself to swallow. It was disgusting. I vowed to never drink again.

"We have water, and milk I think." Soda grabbed a pizza box from The Pizza Parlor. I had never heard of it before, but he asked, "do you like The Pizza Parlor?"

"Never heard of it," I said honestly.

"I guess that makes sense," he said. "You ain't from around here. It's neat, 'cause one of Pony's teachers from grade school runs the joint. Teacher by day, pizza-man by night. Ain't that something?"

"That's cool," I said. It reminded me of a pizza place in 2017 called Mazzio's Pizza that was originally opened by a school teacher named Ken Selby. I wondered if it's the same place.

He asked, "do you want a beer?"

"No, I don't drink," I said.

"You don't drink?" Dally called from the living room.

"Pipe down, Dal!" Soda yelled back just as loud. Then he looked at me again and lowered his voice to a normal, calm volume and asked, "water?"

"Sure."

"We usually got some sort of pop, but Darry ain't supposed to go to the store until the end of the week. They are gone pretty fast around here."

He poured me a glass of tap water and handed me a slice of cold cheese pizza. I gladly took it and munched. Warm pizza is better obviously, but cold pizza wasn't all that bad. Besides, there was no microwave to warm it back up, and I didn't want to use the oven in someone else's home. When I thought about Mazzio's, this pizza tasted nearly the same. I figured it was just because I was thinking about it.

We heard a back door slide open and closed. Through the hallway, two young guys came out. One looked a lot like Soda, so I was guessing that that was Ponyboy. The other was a skinny guy with darker skin and jet black hair. Johnny.

"This is my kid brother Ponyboy, and this is Johnny. Johnny and Ponyboy, this is Bri. She's staying with us tonight," Soda introduced.

"How are ya?" Johnny asked sweetly, but he seemed super shy. He had a fresh cut across his face that was just starting to scab.

Johnny was last, but he certainly wasn't least. He had a timid quality to him that Ponyboy explained perfectly in the book. My brain flashed to the imagery of him severely burned, and laying on a hospital bed with a broken back. I could almost hearing him crying to not let his abusive mother in the room, and begging for another chance at life. When I blinked again, I could see him standing in front of me with a gentle smile, but nervous eyes.

"I'm fine, thanks." I smiled, I could smell the cigarette smoke off their breath and clothes. It took everything for me to not make a face at the strong stench.

I followed Soda back to the living room and everyone's body was positioned to the TV. I couldn't tell what they were watching. Steve and Two-Bit were bickering over their card game and Soda sat on the ground in front of the couch while Dally was on the other side.

"Brianna, sit," Soda said, patting the empty couch space above him.

I smiled civilly and sat where his hand was before he slipped it away. I sat up straight and felt slightly awkward about all of this. I didn't feel like I belonged there, obviously. However, my options were limited. It was either this or live in the car.

I felt Dally lean forward and he put his weight on his elbows that were balancing on his knees, propping himself up. He held the neck of his nearly empty beer bottle in one hand, swirling it around.

"What's a broad like you doin' here in a place like this?" He whispered and licked the inside of his cheek.

"Just new in town." I cleared my throat. This Dally guy always scared me. He was put in jail before he turned fifteen... right?

Wait, no. He was ten years old when he first got caught up with the police.

Even worse.

I wish I brought the book with me to 1965, but I didn't even know that Lillian's Time Machine was going to work in the first place. I would have prepared myself more for living in 1965, instead of preparing for almost-certain death.

"Just new in town, eh? Sayin' somethin' like that can get you into trouble. Do you like gettin' into trouble?" He asked in a low voice. He rubbed the corner of his mouth with his thumb, and my eyes were drawn to the skull ring he had on his middle finger.

"You aren't going to find out," I said, trying to ignore him and his antics. My nose twitched into a scrunch out of annoyance.

"I have my ways," he whispered. Dally had unfriendly pale blue eyes that seemed to look right through me.

I scooted closer to Steve to nonchalantly get him to stop talking to me. Dally finished his beer and left the living room. He took out a cigarette before going outside to smoke it.

"What is Dally's problem?" I directed my question to Steve.

"He spent most of his teenage years in jail. It really hardened him to his core. He is a tough nut to crack," Steve whispered back. "Anyways, don't pay him no mind. Just don't try to mess with him, you dig?"

I took another bite of my pizza and ripped it off with my teeth. I glanced down at Soda and saw how mesmerized he was by the black and white television screen. He wasn't afraid to laugh at the jokes, and he would look up at me to see if I was laughing too.

"If you don't like it, we can change it," Soda offered in a sweet voice.

"No, it's okay. I like it," I reassured.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it's funny," I told him with a smile. Whatever show we were watching ended and a clip from theThree Stoogesstarted playing, which everyone was invested in. Including myself.

Dally came back surrounded by a cloud smelling of cigarettes. My family are very clean people, so the smell of the cigarette smoke was an unpleasant surprise. His stench filled the room like it was on fire, the smoke felt like it was imbedded in the cushions of the couch.

"Do you have school tomorrow?" Ponyboy asked me.

"Um.... not sure. I might as well." I have nothing else to do.

"I can help you enroll at Will Rogers High School. That is where we all go," Ponyboy said.

Well, everyone besides the dropouts and Darry. I knew that was what he meant.

"Thanks, Pony." I didn't think I had the right to call him 'Pony' yet but he didn't seem to mind. "I'll probably play a little hooky from class since I'm not technically enrolled yet." I tried to act tough, or tuff. I couldn't remember which version of the word meant what.

"I do that all the time." Two-Bit pounded his fist into the air.

"That's probably why you are eighteen and still a Junior," Pony chuckled.

"Whatever, kid," Two snickered and finished his beer. Isn't Two-Bit the 'beer drinker' of the gang? And the 'cake eater'?

Glancing around at all of these guys, I began to wonder who they are now. I mean, in my time. Do they have families? Children? Grandchildren? Do they have jobs that they are passionate about? Are they happy? Have I seen them around town and I just had no idea who they were?

"I think I'm going to head to bed." I fluffed my hair over my shoulder as I stood up from the couch.

"Gotta get your beauty sleep, huh? Yeah, you're gonna need it," Two-Bit joked.

When I walked past him I slapped the side of his head. I knew he was joking, which gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside like I might be able to really get along with these guys. Maybe they're already accepting me. I don't think I'd ever be a true part of their gang, but I was hopeful that at least I might make a lasting impression on them if I'm here long enough.

"Very funny." I laughed humorlessly at his joke. "Good night."

Everyone wished me a good-night back.

"Night," Dally said.

"Night, Bri," Soda said.

"Wait, where should I sleep?" I asked after I turned around.

"Normally we would have you take the couch, but it's still early. You can stay in my room if you'd like. That's where I put your bag," Soda said, reminding me that he already offered up his room.

"Oh, you don't have to."

"Then where would you sleep?" He asked.

I thought for a moment, but ultimately answered softly, "I'd find a place."

"Like your car?" Two asked.

"That's a good idea," I said a little too enthusiastically.

"No, don't do that." Soda shook his head. "It's okay, sleeping on the couch will humble me some."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"He don't even sleep in his own room," Steve pointed out.

"You don't?" I asked.

Soda sighed then admitted, "I usually sleep in Pony's room. He gets nightmares."

"No, I don't. Geez," Pony groaned.

"Did we embarrass you, kiddo?" Dally teased.

"Shut up, Dal," Pony mumbled.

"Make me," Dally threatened sternly, his cold blue eyes staring daggers into Pony. So much it made him turn away.

"Take my room," Soda said, bringing the conversation back to the initial question. "It's on the right. I'll clean it tomorrow, I promise."

"Thanks, Soda." I smiled sleepily and yawned. "Night again."

I heard a mumble from everyone as a response.

I found the room that looked most like what I imagined Soda's room to look like. Pictures of cars, his family, and the gang all over the place. He had a freshly made bed with a thin grey comforter, a clean desk and a dresser on the other side of the room. What really took the cake was that all his shirts and jeans thrown around the floor, like he was playinghot lavawith them. My bag was set on the top of his bed, still closed.

I really didn't want to sleep in my new clothes for a number of reasons. I hadn't washed them yet, and when I have to wear them tomorrow I don't want them to smell or be wrinkly. I unbuttoned my pants and wiggled them down my legs, and crossed my arms before grabbing a hold of my sweater and lifting it above my head. I straightened them out and draped them over the chair that was pushed into his desk to keep them clean.

In the dark I tossed my bra onto my little pile of clothes and stood for a moment, thinking about what I was doing. I could put on my old clothes, but I really didn't want to do that. If I stayed naked, I'd be up all night hoping that no one would walk-in with the unlocked door or how maybe a fire would break out and I'd have to run outside without a shirt or anything on.

Instead, I walked to Soda's dresser with hopes of finding a shirt I could borrow for the night. All of his drawers were empty, so I walked to the closet and scavenged through what was hanging up. He really didn't have any clothes in there, but tucked in the back I found a soft gray t-shirt. I slipped it off the hanger and put it on, mentally noting that I needed to buy pajamas and wash this as soon as possible so he doesn't know that I stole his clothes and think it is weird.

The bed shook as I crawled onto the mattress and I threw my head down to the pillow. I listened to the springs bouncing under me. His entire room smelled like cologne and what reminded me of Old Spice. It smelled really good and comforting. I lifted my arms up to circle around my head, letting my dark hair fall around me. I was so tired and exhausted from the unhinged and crazy day I had. The gentle smell helped lull me to sleep.

Chapter 5: Will Rogers High

Chapter Text

April 2, 1965
Morning

The bright sun shined through the thin curtains and tickled my eyes. My wish of this experience being a dream did not come true when I opened my eyes and I didn't see my room. The disappointment that rushed over my body when I realized I wasn't home was astonishing.

I remembered that it was Friday. A school day. Luckily, I wasn't enrolled yet so I decided to go to the mall as I had originally planned. I knew it was for the best. I needed more clothes if I wanted to keep up this charade and blend in as best as I can. I got up and got dressed, leaving Soda's shirt that I stole folded on the bed just in case I have to wear it again tonight. I used my fingers to go through my hair and make it presentable, I'm going to need to buy a hairbrush today too. I headed to the kitchen, quietly closing the bedroom door behind me. Darry was making breakfast but no one else was awake yet. The smell of eggs cooking overwhelmed the entire house.

"Mornin', how'd you sleep?" He moved his eggs around in the pan until they scrambled. He didn't look at me. The tall greaser wore a gray muscle tank which highlighted his muscles while he cooked. His hair was greased up and combed through already. He is such an attractive man. I could watch him scramble eggs all day.

"Just fine, thank you." I totally forgot that I haven't technically met him yet. I kept my chin down and my voice was small.

I smoothed out my sweater, hoping they didn't smell like two-day old clothes but I don't think they did. I wore the same clothes as I did yesterday, for obvious reasons.

Darry was more muscly than I had imagined, otherwise he looked about the same. The Curtis boys all looked a lot alike. They all had very similar facial features, the same hair, and identical cheekbones. Those genes are strong. He asked, "want some eggs? They are nearly done."

"Oh, no thanks. I’m gonna go in a second."

"Wait..." He stopped stirring the eggs and stared at me blankly, "who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Bri. Soda let me stay last night because I didn't have anywhere else to go." I tried to explain as little as possible. "I'm sorry."

I felt bad for just barging in on him at his home. If this was my house, I'd be livid if a stranger crashed here last night without my knowledge. I would have kicked them out immediately.

"Ah, okay. Well, I'm Darry." It didn't faze him. Does he let just anyone stay in his home?

Well, he did take in Johnny, Dally, Steve, and Two-Bit as his own. According to the book, they are over all the time. What's one more?

"Sorry, I totally forgot that we haven't met." I feel like I already have. I’ve known him for years.

"It's all right." He chuckled softly and looked back at the eggs. "Welcome to Tulsa."

"Thanks." I was getting real tired of being told 'Welcome to Tulsa'. "I'll be out of your hair this afternoon."

"You just needed to stay the night?" He asked.

"Yeah," I said. I didn't want to stay and be a burden to him or his brothers. "I really appreciate it, but I’ll get out of your hair today."

"Do you have any place else to go? Be honest."

I was going to lie, but a wave of guilt washed over me. I told him the truth, "no."

"Then you're staying with us."

"But—"

"No buts," he interrupted me. "You're gonna stay here, and I ain't gonna argue about that."

I chuckled softly. "Thanks."

He smiled back at me. "You're welcome."

Darry continued to stir the eggs around in the pan and some toast popped out of the toaster. I asked if he needed any help making breakfast, but he said that he was almost done with it anyways.

"Do you have school?" We have barely spoken ten seconds with each other and he was already acting like my dad. He is only twenty years old, we are practically the same age. He is barely an adult himself.

"Yeah, but I'm not enrolled yet."

"You better do that soon."

Ponyboy (the narrator of the book) was right. Darry is kinda bossy.

"I will, I promise."

"Good."

"Can I ask you something?" I asked as I slipped my sneakers on.

"Shoot." He took a break from stirring the eggs again to look at me and he gave me his full attention. His piercing eyes locked to mine, and a small smile raised his lips as he waited for my question.

"You don't mind, do you?"

"Mind what?" He asked.

"That I'm staying here."

"Oh. Not at all."

"Because I don't have to. Really. I can leave."

"The door is always open. If you need to be here for a few days to get back on your feet, I really don't mind one bit."

I exhaled a sigh of relief. I really didn't want him to have any internalized hatred towards me over crashing at his house without asking. Darry had a paternal nature about him, like when he was around it was like Superman had arrived. I felt safe with him.

When I was a kid, in middle school, reading this book about his life, I always pictured him to be big, old, and mean. I've barely had one conversation with him but to me he seems nice and inviting. I also have to remember that he is really young. Twenty used to seem so old to me, I used to think twenty-year-olds all had their lives together, but he really is just as much of a kid as I am.

"Where did you say you were going again?" He asked.

"I'm heading into town for a bit."

"Instead of going to school?" He asked.

"Yeah," I said sheepishly.

He sighed disappointedly. “All right."

"Just for school stuff. Then I'll go enroll, I swear," I promised.

"Did you drop out or something?" He asked. He walked away from the kitchen, looking at me as he waited for my response.

"No, why?"

"It's April. You should have been going to class for seven months already."

I had no idea how I was going to talk myself out of this awkward hole I dug myself into, but I was gonna figure it out. "When I left home, I had to leave everything."

"You left home?" He asked, his voice was full of sympathy. When he brushed past me, he angled his broad shoulders and quickly disappeared down the hallway only to come back with a green button up shirt. "Where is home?"

I tried to stick with the narrative I've already begun so I told him, "California."

"Okay," he responded softly. He didn't dig too much further into my seemingly mysterious and traumatizing past. If someone told me they ran off from the other side of the country and landed under my roof, I'd have lots of questions. He slipped his shirt on and asked, "are you coming back tonight?"

My answer was delayed by a few seconds. I got lost in his velvet blue-green eyes. I blinked hard a few times to bring my mind back to his question. I promised, "y-yeah, I will."

"Good." He smiled. He walked back to the kitchen and stood in front of the stove. "I'm making sloppy joes."

"I love sloppy joes," I said as I grabbed my car keys.

He smiled and looked down at the eggs. "Good."

When I got to the front door I called back, "bye, I'll see you later."

"Bye."

I ran outside and jumped into my car that was already warmed from the progressing morning sun. I drove to the familiar mall and shopped around. It wasn't exactly as I remember. It had a different name, and it was an outdoor shopping center and not an indoor mall but it's in the same place. There weren't very many people there, since it just opened for the day. I picked out a maroon crewneck with no buttons or zippers or drawstrings, paired with some black capri pants that tapered just above my ankle. Enough to keep me warm since it's April, but breathable enough since it is Oklahoma.

I changed into my new clothes after I bought them. I didn't realize just how important clothes were around here. There was a social line drawn between Socs and Greasers, and I wanted to seem a little more like a Greaser, just because of the Gang. Besides, I'd have more fun as a rebellious Greaser. I thought it would be fun to try something different. Like a semi-permanent Halloween costume.

I really don't have enough knowledge on Greaser girls besides Sandy and the Pink Ladies from the 1978 film,Grease. OrHairspray. I also didn't want to buy anything that I could not bring home with me. It was difficult, but I found a few items of clothing that worked in 1965, and I could continue wearing when I got back to 2017. This included jeans, shorts, some basic shirts and blouses, sweaters, and pajamas. I will probably create a new fashion trend that will be ahead of its time and people willnotbe happy. I packed all my new things into my car and drove to the school to enroll.

I went inside the familiar school and classes had already started, I think I missed the first two periods. I walked to the main office and was greeted by a receptionist.

"Hello there, dear. How may I help you?" She was already kind of old so I figured she no longer worked there in my time.

"Hi, I'm a new student and I'm not sure where I'm supposed to be."

"Well, welcome to Will Rogers. You'll have to fill out a few of these forms." She dug around in a drawer and handed me a few sheets of paper. "The dress code is in there too."

I thanked her, and found a cup containing pens and pencils on the counter. I grabbed a black pen and started to write. It was basic information. My address, phone number, name, and my prior educational experience. I put down my real address, even though it doesn't exist yet. How would they know? Besides, I didn't even think to ask for the Curtis's address. I flipped through the pages to make sure I included everything, then I found the dress-code. Since she mentioned it, I read it and was immediately annoyed.

As per the dress-code, girls could only wear dresses and skirts with blouses—no slacks of any kind. Jeans and shorts were completely out of the question. No overalls were allowed. Blouses have to be tucked into the waistband of skirts. Pantyhose must be worn at all times. Makeup must be kept in moderation. No sneakers or sandals. Exposing your midriff was certainly not allowed, and shirts must either cover your shoulders or be long sleeve. The skirts had to be long enough to touch the floor when girls were on both knees. Apparently they require this as a test that they can administer at any time. Might as well just give us uniforms.

I walked back up to the desk and smiled closed-lipped as I handed the forms back to the receptionist. She gathered the forms and with a sweet smile she asked, "what grade are you in?"

"11th. Junior," I said.

"And you read through the dress-code, right?" She asked as she put my papers away and gathered new ones.

"I did, I'll be in the proper dress-code on Monday," I promised. Now I was mad that I was going to have to spend evenmoremoney again on dresses and skirts I could wear to school. "Do you need my ID or anything?"

"Honey, this isn't Alcatraz. Here you are." She handed me my schedule. It just had the basic classes I needed to attend,

"Thanks." I smiled kindly.

"Do you need any help finding your class, dear?" She asked.

"No thanks, I can manage."

"Have a great first day," she said with a cheesy smile. Looks like she has had a lot of practice.

I slowly walked out of the office, examining my schedule closely. I recognized every classroom on the paper. I've had a class in each room one time or another, so it was going to be easy to find my way around.

I actually didn't mind being here in 1965, for a short while at least. I got to experience first-hand one of my favorite decades. The only problems were that I didn't know how to get back home and there was a big chance that I could screw up the space-time continuum. I have the strong belief that everything is supposed to happen for a reason. I could do a small thing that can throw off the balance of everything that I know and love in present time Tulsa. Also known as the butterfly effect.

I hung out in the halls with other students that were skipping class and waited for the next period to start. I did my best to not talk to them, or even make eye contact. Being from the future, I'm terrified of revealing something. No one should know too much of their own future. Not even me... I'm not even sure if I'd want to know.

According to my schedule, I had English next, so I walked quickly to the room to avoid the chaos of everyone rushing to their next class during the passing period. My teacher was a woman whose dead beehive blonde hair was as stiff as straw and smelled like lavender and hairspray.

"Hello ma'am, I'm a new student and I'm not sure where I sit."

"Oh, anywhere is fine, dear. What's your name? I don't think I heard of any new students coming to my class." She seemed sweet but confused.

"Brianna Jones. I just moved here from California."

"Well, welcome to Tulsa."

"Thank you," I said softly.

Her attitude took a turn when she said, "if you could tie your hair back. This isn't a party, Miss Jones."

I felt a little caught off guard with her demand. I thought my hair looked fine, but upon glancing at the other female students, they all had short or sleek hair. Not a hair out of place, probably still surrounded by a cloud of hairspray.

I nodded. "I will get on that, ma'am."

I took a seat near the back and I surveyed the classroom. I had this exact room freshman year for health. There was a green chalkboard wall in the front of the classroom, and these desks have probably been here since the school opened in 1939.

The English teacher began the class period by introducing me to the entire class.

"Class, we have a new student with us today. Her name is Brianna. Stand up Brianna," she said once the bell rang. I did as she told, and I stood up slowly and was met with the eyes of every student on me.

"Everyone say hello to Brianna Jones."

"Hello, Brianna Jones," everyone said in unison. I sat back down and she began teaching.

On my right was a group of Socs. On my left was a group of Greasers. I was the middleman.

"Hey." I felt a nudge on my shoulder and it was a Soc boy. I first noticed his bright green eyes. He wore a Roper's varsity wool jacket with leather sleeves and khakis, and his blonde hair was nicely styled. He looked like a traditional clean cut American boy that I've seen in movies.

I glanced over at him and whispered back, "yes?"

"I ain't seen you around."

"I'm new, weren't you listening?" I asked.

"You Soc or a grease?" He parted his full lips as he waited for my answer.

"Excuse me?" I acted like I didn't know. Was it because I was sitting right between the Socs in the class and the Greasers?

"I can't tell by your getup."

I glanced down at my clothes and I couldn't understand what he was getting at. I was supposed to be wearing a skirt or a dress, could that be it? He thinks that I'm rebelling against the school by wearing pants to stand up against the politics of misogynistic standards? Possibly.

"I'm neither." I knitted my eyebrows together in confusion on why he was asking me a question that felt so personal yet so pointless.

"That won't be for long," he snickered.

"What does that mean?" I hissed back.

"You're gonna be one of us eventually," he stated.

"What?" I asked.

"Don't look at me like that. Pretty girl like you? You should be smiling."

Slightly confused, I paid no attention to him for the rest of the period. This town really is torn in two. I thought I did a pretty good job making myself look like I belonged in the 60s while also being modern so I could still feel like myself too. Maybe I messed up? I tried to add a touch more of the Greaser since I am staying with the Curtis's but I guess I didn't add enough. Maybe I should get a leather jacket.

I almost felt like a transfer student at my own school. I went through a few more class periods where I got to meet more students and have teachers introduce me to everyone. Every single teacher reminded me of the dress code, but didn't send me home to change since it was my first day.

During a passing period when I was on my way to my next class, there was a grumpy man standing against the wall, his arms crossed just above his pot belly and over his dark blue tie. He snapped his fingers and pointed as he said, “right side. Walk on the right side of the hall.”

The students adjusted themselves, some with eye rolls and others just obeyed his command. I scurried to the right side of the hallway so I wouldn’t be a target of his reprimand.

After the last class of the day ended, I was heading to my car with my new schoolbooks hugged to my chest. I need to buy a book bag, or a backpack.

I was walking across the courtyard, lost in my own mind. I couldn't believe any of this was happening. I tried to come to some conclusion that I was trapped in the Twilight Zone, or stuck in some of coma and this was a dream. Regardless of the truth, I was going to treat this like I am really in the 1960s.

I didn't realize I had bumped into someone until my schoolbooks flew out of my hands. They all clattered to the asphalt, and I jumped back in a tense fashion.

The guy I bumped into immediately got down to the ground and started picking up my books for me. I squatted down to start picking them up too, and he looked up at me the same time I looked up at him. He had bright blue eyes, and perfectly styled dark curly brown hair. He wore dress pants with a button up shirt and a jacket over his knit vest, I assumed he was more than likely one of the Socs.

He smiled at me warmly. He has nice, straight, perfect white teeth. "Hi."

I smiled back. "Hi."

"Oh, um..." he mumbled as he scrambled up to his feet. He handed me my books as he said, "I'm real sorry about that, I didn't see you."

"It's okay, I thought I bumped into you," I chuckled.

"Say, I don't believe I've seen you around here before."

"It's my first day, I just transferred."

"Are you graduating this year?" He asked.

"No, I'm a junior," I told him.

He whistled lowly. "Transferring as an upperclassman can't be easy."

He has no idea. "It's rough, but I'm managing."

"I'll bet. I don't really like change myself. Where'd you transfer from?" He asked. He put his hands in his pockets and started walking the way I was heading, and I stayed by his side. The wind picked up his cologne, he smelled of a sweet blend of sandalwood, orange, and tobacco.

"California," I said.

"You're a long way from home."

I chuckled softly. "You have no idea."

"Well, I'm a senior so if you need any help getting around, just holler for me. I'm Bob, by the way." He extended his hand as we kept walking.

Our walk halted and in the moment that I grabbed his hand, my smile faltered. I glanced down and noticed the heavy set rings on his hand that were pressing into my fingers. I looked back up at him, trying to hide the panic in my eyes. He doesn't know me, but I certainly know him.

I forced the smile back on my face and I said in a strong voice, "it's nice to meet you, Bob. I'm Bri."

"Bri," he repeated. He had a glint in his eyes that I couldn't look away from. "Beautiful name."

"Thank you," I said lowly.

"Hope to see you around," he said.

"You too." I took my hand back and hugged my books into my chest again.

Bob turned around and walked off, going back across the courtyard again. I couldn't help but watch him walk away. He looked back at me, so I immediately kept walking so he wouldn't know I was watching him. I didn't recognize him, there was no way I would have known that he was the Gang's biggest enemy. I saw Johnny's face last night, he was already beaten by Bob.

I felt disgusted that I had thought that he was remotely nice and dare I say charming. He must not know is that I associate with the Curtis's yet, otherwise he probably wouldn't have treated me so kindly. He would have ground me to sand beneath his shoe. Why was he nice to me? I never would have guessed that he would be so vile toward Johnny, and end up dead beside a water fountain.

I fiddled with my car keys that were stuck around my thumb. I almost didn't hear someone calling my name.

"Bri?" I heard Ponyboy call out.

"Pony?" My head snapped up and I noticed him and Johnny. I trotted up to them.

"What are you doin' here?" Johnny asked.

"I am starting school," I told them. I decided not to tell them about Bob, because why would they care if I knew who he was?

"I thought you said that you wanted to skip?" Pony mentioned.

"Just the first few periods. You boys want a ride home?" I asked.

"Yes, please," Pony agreed and Johnny nodded. "I wanna get home so I can finish my homework early."

"Why?" I asked.

"Darry checks it. I want to be done before he gets home. I wanna go to the Nightly Double tonight," Pony explained as we walked to my car through the parking lot.

I felt like I got a lot of stares today, which was exactly what I didn't want to have happen. I needed to give myself the least amount of attention as possible. It was my first day though so I'm sure everyone was trying to figure out who I was. I wanted to just be able to slip out of 1965 as easily as I slipped into it. People are very clichey and judgey here in 1965. Still is in 2017, but it's... different. I haven't fit in here yet, and I wasn't sure if I was ever going to. I am a total outsider here.

The drive to their house was longer than the drive from school to my own house in 2017, but it wasn't terribly long. It would certainly be a long walk, but not impossible. I had to pass through a neighborhood of nice homes before it transitioned to the Greaser territory.

I parked in their driveway and there was only one other car there, instead of two. I went inside with the boys. The only other people there were Dally and Two-Bit.

"Hey, guys," Ponyboy said, dropping his backpack at the door.

"Hey, Pony," Two-Bit and Dally said in unison. Their eyes were glued to the TV.

"Hi," I said. The boys looked at me, said hi back, and again were hypnotized at the TV.

I didn't bother to kick off my shoes as I headed into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water from the tap. I took a sip as I came back into the living room and I sat in between Two-Bit and Dally.

Their whole house smelled like cigarette smoke. I knew it was going to take a bit to get used to. The amount of people I know that are smokers are sparse. Many teenagers smoke weed in my time, but I don’t.

Apparently, 'weed' and 'cigarettes' meant the same thing here. The only person I would have guessed that smoked weed here was Two-Bit. It's a vibe he gives off.

We all hung out together for a while before Soda and Steve came home from work. It was pretty quiet and peaceful. From what I can remember, this was something that was not mentioned in the book. I still liked being here in 1965, but I wish I didn’t feel so alone here.

Chapter 6: The Nightly Double

Chapter Text

April 2, 1965

The afternoon was dull until Steve and Soda came home from work. After Darry's dinner of sloppy joes, the gang was trying to figure out how they wanted to spend the rest of their evening. Dally wanted to go to Bucks and Ponyboy wanted to go to the Nightly Double. We settled by going to the Nightly Double.

We arrived at the 7pm showing, I drove us there. The Nightly Double is close enough to walk, but walking at night isn't exactly safe for Greasers, as it has been explained to me. They like to go out in packs, like wolves. When they're by themselves that's when they find themselves in trouble. And Ponyboy told me that the Nightly Double is already a pretty tough hangout spot.

Dally wanted to sneak into the drive-in. Ponyboy told me that he hated following any rules. I, on the other hand, am the exact opposite. I don't even speed when I drive. I don't like getting into trouble and I hate confrontation.

The price to go in was only 25¢. Everyone followed Dally's lead and I didn't want to go through the entrance the rightful way by myself, so I sucked it up and struggled to climb the tall fence. Soda waited on the other side for me, he grabbed my waist to ease the drop to the dirt ground. I thanked him, and we caught up with the others.

The Nightly Double is an outdoor drive-in theater, I've always wanted to go to one. In the future, this lot is locked up and abandoned. Half of the property turned into a bank that my family uses. The sign is still there though, hidden by overgrown trees and slowly rusting. Forgotten by time.

Now, I saw the sign in its prime. I had to stop for a second to come to terms that this was the sign I've seen almost everyday for the past seven years. This sign was gorgeous, and shined prominently with red neon lights. I wished it still looked like that. It was almost sad how rusty and dull it looks now.

"You comin', Bri?" Soda snapped me out of my funk.

I dusted myself off and caught up to them. Soda waited for me and we walked together to one of the front rows. I sat in a seat, in the middle squished between Soda and Dally.

"Want somethin'?" Soda asked, gesturing to the concession stand.

"A Diet co*ke would be great," I said.

Soda tilted his head at me like a confused golden retriever. "Huh?"

He looked at me like I was from another planet. I smiled wearily to avoid correcting my mistake. "Just a co*ke."

"Dally, Ponyboy, Two-Bit. Y'all want somethin'?" Soda asked the others.

"I'll take a popcorn," Two-Bit said.

"Chocolate sundae for me!" Ponyboy said.

"No Pepsi?" Soda asked. Ponyboy is practically addicted to Pepsi.

Pony shook his head. "They only sell co*ke here."

"co*ke." Dally drummed his fingers on the arm rest.

"What do you want, Johnny?" I heard Soda say when he turned around to ask Johnny, who was on the other side of him. I didn't quite catch what he requested.

"Hey Steve, can you get all that?" Soda leaned forward and asked Steve, who had the seat next to Johnny at the aisle.

"Get what?" He wasn't paying attention.

"The food."

"What food?"

"Chocolate sundae, two popcorns, three co*kes, and a hotdog."

So I guess Johnny ordered a co*ke, a popcorn, and a hotdog.

"Why do I have to get it?" He made a sour face, flexing his upper lip up to his gums, showing off his crooked upper teeth.

"'Cause you're the closest."

"Well I can't carry them all by my lonesome."

"Johnnycakes can go with you, won't ya, Johnny?" Soda nudged Johnny and he just did what he was told.

When they were getting up to leave Two reached over with some money clutched in his hand. "I'm buying."

Steve took the money then he and Johnny went up the snack bar and got in line.

"I-I can pay for myself," I stammered, trying to reach for my money before they got too far away. Or at least I could pay Two back.

"Nah, our treat. Well, Two's." Soda grinned. He softly held my wrist to keep me from reaching for my wallet. Damn, he's cute. I couldn't help but grin with him. I felt butterflies in my stomach and my hand started to shake slightly, but not enough that he could notice.

"That's right, baby," Two winked jokingly. He whipped his spring comb out and he combed back his slicked hair down into his iconic elephant trunk with a duck tail.

"If you insist," I said quietly, because the movie was starting. "Thank you."

I know from the book that Soda was planning on marrying Sandy at this point. I remembered that she got pregnant, not with Soda's kid, and ran off to Florida. Has that happened yet? I don't think so. I really needed to stop trying to pull my head around this situation without being able to write it down, I'm a very visual person.

There was a gravel section for cars to park, and you could watch the movie from there. There was also provided seating in another part in front of the screen, and another section of just grass. Families laid out blankets and lawn chairs to watch the movie. There was even a playground! I wish they didn't go out of style. Drive-in theaters were much more popular than indoor theaters here in 1965.

The movie wasThe Sound of Music.Still very popular in my day. There are even a bunch of memes on the internet about it. It is a heartwarming musical, which was why I was so surprised that the boys wanted to go to a children's movie like this. They might not even know what it is about.

"We miss anythin'?" Steve asked when the opening song was playing.

"Nah, you just made it," Soda said. Steve and Johnny passed our food down one by one before sitting to enjoy the movie.

The only people who really liked watching the movie was me, Johnny, and Ponyboy. Two-Bit ran off and came back three times before the movie even started, Dally was sweet-talking to some chicks behind us, and Steve couldn't stop talking to poor Johnny who was just trying to enjoy the movie. Soda's leg wouldn't stop bouncing so I knew he was bored. From what I remember about him, he likes anything that would blow off steam. Such as racing, fighting, dancing, and anything challenging. Having to sit still at a long movie is probably the last thing he wants to be doing right now.

"Have you guys ever seen this before?" I whispered to Soda. Sure, I haven't seen this movie in years... But I have seen this before and I didn't want to accidentally reveal something that occurs later in the movie. Plus, I believe that talking to him throughout the movie would make him less restless.

"No, it just came out yesterday. That's why it's so packed," he whispered back. I sat up a little bit and glanced around. I guess it was kinda busy, but I would consider it moderate in attendance.

"What day is it?" I asked.

"The second."

"That's right." I remembered that Lillian brought me here on April Fools Day. Did that mean something? I don't know. Maybe that's why I thought it was a joke this entire time.

"This is Julie Andrews, right?" He asked.

"Yeah. She is inMary PoppinsandThe Princess Diaries," I told him.

"What'sThe Princess Diaries?" He co*cked his eyebrow curiously.

sh*t.

"Just a movie that Julia Andrews is in." I tried to wave it off. "I used to watch it as a kid, I don't think it's that popular."

"Probably not that popular, since I ain't never heard of it."

Thankfully he didn't question me more. I'm not a good liar. I always have to hide my mouth so I don't crack a smile.

Dally nudged me with his elbow and showed me the rolled up wrapper from his straw. I watched him stick it into the straw for his co*ke and aim it towards the back of someone's head. I looked at Dally and he blew the spit ball which landed in the hair of a guy sitting in front of us.

He snapped his head back so Dally and I both immediately slouched down in our chairs and I quickly grabbed his right wrist and lifted it up, pretending to be preoccupied with his watch. He glared at us and slowly turned back around, feeling around his head to see if he could grab whatever he thought we threw at him.

"You're a dork," I whispered as I let go of Dally's wrist, trying not to laugh.

He stuck the straw back into his drink and took a sip. With a shrug, he said, "I can be fun. Want some?" He shook his co*ke cup toward me.

"Got one." I shook mine too.

"Well, shoot, never mind." He reached over and grabbed a handful of Two's popcorn. Two ripped the popcorn out of Dally's reach and he shoved all the pieces into his mouth like a hog.

It was hard to focus on the movie because everyone around us was wrestling with wrappers or whispering to each other harshly. I could also feel Soda looking my way. I figured something caught his attention in the distance, so when I turned to see what he was looking at, I didn't notice anything interesting. When I looked at Soda, he was gazing at me as if he was admiring a painting.

I thought maybe he'd look away, but when he didn't, I asked, "what are you looking at?"

He shook his head and the corners of his lips turned up and he answered, "nothing," but the smile was quickly replaced with a little laugh. One thing I know about Soda is that he gets bored very easily and he loses interest at the drop of a hat.

"Are you bored?" I blurted. A mom behind me shushed me.

"Just a bit." He tried to play it cool. It was obvious if I seemed more interesting to him than the film.

"Wanna get a burger or something? My treat," I offered.

"Please," he laughed. The rude lady shushed him too. Soda rolled his eyes. "Let's go."

We shimmed through the seats to get to the end.

"You're leaving?" Dally asked.

"Where you two goin'?" Johnny asked. He seemed so timid and quiet all the time, with big puppy-dog eyes. That Soc must have already gotten to him, I couldn't remember if it was revealed to have been Bob Sheldon yet or not. I forgot about his cuts on his face that were currently scabbing. He will never get over that.

Steve made continuous kissing sounds to tease us.

"Shut your trap, Steve." Soda slapped Steve on the back of the head.

"Do we have to stay too?" Dally asked restlessly. "This movie is not my taste." He took out a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth and reached for his lighter.

"Don't smoke out here!" The shushing lady yelled at Dally. "It's family night."

There was a look in Dally's eye I hadn't seen yet. One of red hot anger. He turned around and said "I do what I want, bitch." He took a deep inhale of his cigarette and blew it in the ladies face. I could have sworn I saw steam come out of her ears.

"We better get outta here." Soda nudged my shoulder. All hell will break loose, but I love the drama.

"Yeah, sure, yeah," I hesitated.

Soda grabbed my hand as we quickly headed out the exit. I giggled, praying that Soda couldn't tell that I could barely breathe from his touch. We hopped into my car and drove off into the night. I guess the others will be walking home, but as long as they're together it shouldn't be an issue.

We drove in comfortable silence while the radio playedMy Girlfrom The Temptations. I hummed along to it softly, this is a song I really like that I listen to all the time back home. When the song was finished, the commercials started playing. The first, was for Camel Cigarettes.

"Why are Camel's by far Americas most popular cigarettes? Two of the reasons are flavor and mildness. No other cigarette has Camel's rich, full flavor. And no other cigarette offer this proof of mildness. In a coast to coast test of hundreds of people with normal throats, noted throat specialists reported not one single case of throat irritation due to smoking Camels. Try Camel's yourself, then you'll know why Camel leads all other brands by billions of cigarettes per year," the man stated with a mid-transatlantic accent that I've greatly associated with mid-century voices.

I instinctively turned the radio down just a little, mostly just to hear myself think. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Soda look at the radio, then to me, then back to the radio, and me again. He let out a little chuckle and asked, "you don't like Camels?"

"I don't smoke," I stated.

"You don't? Neither do I. Well, not really, anyway. Darry don't, and he don't like it none when me or Pony smokes. He sure hates it when anyone smokes in the house. Ponyboy smokes a hell of a lot more than me."

"When do you smoke?" I asked.

"Oh, it ain't much. Just when I'm shaken or... or..."

"Stressed out?" I guessed.

"Yeah, that's it. I really try not to, but sometimes I feel like I need it to calm down."

I nodded along, mentally noting that I should check in with him if I ever notice him smoking. I'm trying not to let it bother me when the gang smokes, despite the nasty smell that follows them everywhere they go. I won't annoy and bore them with telling them about the dangers, they won't care and they won't stop.

"I'm not too familiar with the town, what is a good place to get a burger?" I asked, I drove by nearby places that I knew had burgers but of course, they haven't been built yet.

"Hanks Hamburgers?"

"Sounds good." I recognized the name, but I don't think I've ever had it before. "Is it a drive-in?"

"No, it ain't. Drive-ins are real nice when it's warm outside, but I don't think they'll ever catch on."

"Oh," I said softly. He's not wrong, I don't think I've ever seen a proper drive-in restaurant back home.

"We gotta hurry, it closes soon."

I drove in the direction that Soda directed me to. We approached a little yellow restaurant that showed a large sign that said "Serving Tulsa Since 1949" in large red letters on an outdoor changeable letter board.

I walked alongside Soda as we walked in, and he put his hand on the small of my back to guide me to the door before opening it for me. This gentleman behavior is so scarce in my time, I couldn't help but get butterflies. The bar is so low for boys in the twenty first century, it's ridiculous.

I ordered a burger, a co*ke, and a chocolate milkshake. I was hungry enough to eat a hippo. Soda ordered a burger. We sat down at an empty table and we waited for our food. It was nearly closing time, so we were pretty much the only people there. We just talked until our food was ready. Through some carefully worded questions, Soda told me about how his parents died in a car accident just a few months ago and how Johnny got beat by a Soc with rings recently. I was relieved that he was so open with me, so I didn't accidentally say something I wasn't supposed to know.

"Do you like tomatoes, pickles, and onions?" I asked Soda, picking those ingredients off my burger.

"You don't like 'em?" He asked with a mouth full of beef and cheese. His hands shook slightly, like he was nervous. Was he nervous?

"It ruins the burger for me." I added ketchup and mayo to my bun and put it all together again. I could eat burgers for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of my life and never get tired of them.

"I'll take your tomatoes." Soda reached over and swiped the tomatoes off my wrapper and added them to his burger. "Tell me about yourself."

"About myself?" I chuckled nervously. "What do you want to know?"

He smiled. "Everything."

"I was born and raised in California," I started off with something he already knew so hopefully I would bore him. "I tumbled a lot as a kid, up until just about last year. I loved that. Um... I used to have a job teaching kids how to tumble, so that was fun. I'm not quite sure what else to say."

"What's your favorite food?"

I had to think for a second. "Burgers. No, spaghetti. Wait... pizza. I have too many."

"Favorite color?"

"Gold. What's yours?"

"I like orange and yellow. I'm not talkin' Jack-o-lantern orange or bright yellow. I'm talkin' orange like the sunset."

"I like sunsets." I smiled and took a bite of my burger.

"You said you have a sister?"

"Yeah, Jenni. She does track, just like Pony."

"If they ever meet, I know Pony would love to talk about track. He can go on and on about it for hours without takin' a breath."

"What do you usually do for fun around here?" I asked. We come from such different worlds, more than he would ever know. We may be from the same town but culturally we are so far apart.

"A lot. I like to dance to rock and roll, do some drag racing, fight in rumbles... a lot of stuff."

"Where do you usually go to rock and roll? Or, to dance, I mean?" I asked.

"Guys will throw parties around the neighborhood. Buck is a friend of Dally's and he throws them nearly every night at their place. I swear, sometimes I can hear the brawling or the music from home. I tell ya, those ones are wild."

"You know that you can get a milkshake too, right?" I stated when I realized he didn't have anything to drink.

"That's okay. I don't want that much." He shook his head. The milkshake was very cheap so I didn't mind. This outing was my treat after all.

"Hold on." I stood up and grabbed an extra straw from the counter and handed it to him. "Wanna share? I don't mind."

"You sure?" He gingerly took the straw from my hands and removed the wrapper. When he took it, I sat back down on my side of the table.

"Of course." I pushed the milkshake towards the middle of the table and he swiftly put the straw into the shake and took a sip.

"That's real good."

"I didn't know it was going to taste so good." I admired the shake. "How have I never had this before?"

"There's only one location," he chuckled, "and you've been here for what... a day?"

"Yeah, you are right."

He smiled at me. "So, how do you like Tulsa?"

"It's nice. It’s different from back home.”

“How?” He asked genuinely.

"I think the biggest thing is I'm just getting used to the whole East side versus west side of this city," I told him.

"Yeah, well, living around these parts there's just one thing you gotta know. There's us greasers, and them socs. That's how it's always been, and probably how it's always gonna be."

I hummed my lips together softly. "We don't have anything like that where I'm from."

"And it ain't never gonna change, it don't really matter if you like it or not. But it ain't so bad. Just as long as you don't go to their territory, I suppose. And you ain't out by your lonesome. You'll be just fine."

"I'm not planning on it, don't worry."

"What else do you like about Tulsa?" He asked, leaning closer to me over the table.

”It’s really warm." I took a few gulps of my co*ke. Originally I wanted a Dr. Pepper, but it wasn't on the menu.

"California is warm too, right?" He took a bite of his burger.

"A different kind of warm." I smirked.

We both leaned to the milkshake at the same time and our heads collided at the top. I'm not sure how neither one of us didn't notice the other going for the shake. I was eyeballing my burger, so I wasn't paying attention.

"Ouch!" We both winced, leaning back into our seats and rubbing our foreheads.

"Are you okay?" I started to giggle. I rubbed the newly forming bump to try to make the pain go away quicker.

"I'm fine, smarts right now. I've gone through worse. Are you okay?" He inspected my forehead, with a smile creeping onto his handsome face.

"Of course." I didn't lie, because I knew I was fine. It is just a little sore at the moment. I noticed his glee and I asked, "what are you smiling at?"

He just kept smiling. I just want to steal my way into his heart. I wish I could make him mine, but I know it never can be. I'm sure my stupid little crush will go away eventually.

We both laughed at our stupid mistake and finished the night polishing off our drinks and our burgers. It's the little moments like this that made me forget why I wanted to go back to my time. I will never be able to shake the way I felt in that moment.

"We oughta get going. Around here if you take a nice girl out on a date and you bring her home late, it's a sin," he stated as he began gathering our garbage to toss in the bin.

"And these people probably want to go home," I added. I barely gave myself time to blush over the fact that he called this a date.

We were there far past closing time so I gave all the workers an extra big tip. We walked back out to the car, and Soda opened the door for me. When I was in my seat he closed my door and ran around to the passenger side and let himself in.

"Do you have work in the morning?" I asked as we coasted down the street, heading back to the Curtis' house.

"Every mornin' besides Sunday's."

"What does Darry do?" I already knew the answer.

"He roofs."

"My friends dad is a carpenter," I said.

"Yeah? That's neat. Does he like it?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I hope so."

"I swear with every shift Darry ages about ten years. I tell ya, he's gonna need a new back by the time he's thirty."

"Darry is a hard worker," I stated.

"He's real good at what he does. He works harder than anyone I know."

"It must be hard."

Soda sighed softly. "It's been real tough. Since mom and pop died, Darry's been real upset and he takes it out on Pony. We used to get along real fine, but now I feel like I'm the middleman between them. Golly, we sure do try."

"I'm sorry," I said softly. I felt bad for bringing the conversation into this territory.

Soda flipped back to a happy-go-lucky tone with a thoughtless smile plastered on his face. "It's okay, I don't mind. Gives me a bit of time to vent I s'ppose."

"Yeah, if you are the mediator that's gotta be rough."

"It's fine, I'm used to it." He seemed bored again. "You know, it's traditional that the guy pays for the dates, right?"

"Some traditions are worth breaking," I said. I would have felt too guilty making him pay. I know his exact situation, I didn't want to trouble him.

"Let me pay next time. Ya dig?"

"Oh, there will be a next time?" I asked, feeling butterflies flutter in my stomach again. I need to stop gushing over him every time he says something sweet to me.

"Of course." I saw him smile out of the corner of my eye.

"I take a left here?" I pointed to the dimly lit street on our left.

"Right."

"I take a right?"

"No, you take a left." He snickered.

"A left?" I asked, confused.

"Right."

"Right?" Even more confused.

"Left!" He laughed as I took the sharp left turn. I've always been bad with directions. "Nice drivin'!" He laughed harder.

"I've already totaled one car," I revealed.

"Ruined?"

"Yeah. It was about a year ago. I ran into a curb and the airbags went out. It wasn't my fault, my tires slipped on ice.

"What are airbags?"

sh*t. How are airbags not invented yet?!

"Oh, um... it was this part... thing in my car that got ruined by the curb." I reached the Curtis house and saw that only Darry's truck was in the driveway.

"I know every single part of every single car, and not once have I ever heard of an airbag." He opened his car door when I turned the ignition off.

"Maybe Steve knows." I shrugged. I gripped the keys in my palm and locked the doors when Soda and I were both out and he waited for me before walking towards the front door. I glanced through the living room window to see Darry reading the paper in his brown recliner.

"Wait, Bri." Soda and I stopped right before we got to the front door. The porch light above us illuminated his face, making his soft brown eyes brighter.

"Yeah?"

"I know that you said that you coming here to Tulsa was for a personal reason. Mind telling me what that was?"

"Oh... um..." I stammered, trying to think of something to say.

"It is okay if you can't tell me! As you said, it's personal. I just thought we got a little closer during our night out so I was curious."

Should I just tell him it's personal again? Or lie? I don't want to be rude, but I'm also a bad liar. There's so much I want to say to him. This will be really hard.

"I really wish I could tell you, but I really can't. Maybe someday."

"Of course. Maybe someday." He seemed disappointed. "Can you at least tell me where your folks are? Or why you can't be with them?" I could smell the chocolate ice cream lingering on his breath.

"Yeah... um... my parents are traveling for work." I pretended to scratch my upper lip to avoid him watching me smile. No matter how serious the situation, I always smile when I lie. "They say it's fine as long as I keep in touch every so often and I am in school."

"If you need anyone, you can always talk to me, 'kay?" He smiled sympathetically and bent down for a hug. I was wrapped in Soda's big strong arms before I felt a gentle peck on my cheek. I felt warm inside, I didn't want to let him go. The familiar smell of woodsy tobacco and Old Spice soap weakened me and helped me sink into his arms.

"Okay," I replied back, still embraced in the hug. I backed up and was so close to his face. His brown eyes twinkled in the shine of the porch light and his clear skin was glowing like he was wearing highlight. He kept eye contact, but I also noticed that he would glance down at my lips momentarily. I relaxed my arms to try to break apart, but he wasn't letting go. I placed my hands on his shoulders, and noticed he unconsciously bit his lower lip in a way that made me melt. I tried to just look at his eyes, his pupils were dilated. Mine probably were too. I felt my heart beat a little harder, but nothing too drastic.

"Let's go inside, yeah?" I said, taking a step back and turning to the door.

"Yeah." He seemed disappointed. Did he want to kiss me? Not that I'm complaining. Maybe the Sandy incident has already happened. He would never cheat on her. He loved her. And I mean hereallyloved her. He even offers to raise the baby that isn't his own, just to stay with Sandy! That is dedication and incredible loyalty.

We walked through the door and Darry looked up from his newspaper. "You're home early."

"We left early," Soda explained as he kicked his shoes off.

"Any idea when the others will be back?"

"Sometime past 10. The movie is three hours long and started at seven." I took my shoes off too.

"Geez, that long?" Soda seemed surprised. He was probably thinking that he dodged a bullet.

"Soda, could you get my left shoulder? It's hurtin' bad." Darry set the paper down while Soda stood behind him and started to give him a massage, leaning over the back of the chair, focusing on his left shoulder.

"Down a little, and deeper," Darry corrected.
I remember the book said that Darry's twenty year old body felt like a seventy year old's body. Broken and falling apart, due to his rough job.

According to Ponyboy, Soda's hands are like magic when it comes to massages. I'll have to ask him for a massage one day, just as an excuse for his hands to be all over me.

"I'm going to hit the hay early. Good night guys." I yawned and walked toward the hallway.

"Night, Bri," Soda said, looking back with a small smile. Darry said 'good night' too before I disappeared down the dark hallway.

I got to Soda's room and hid under the covers to use my phone. I looked up when airbags were invented.

Airbags were invented in 1968? I was three years off.

I was still surprised that my phone got service, and that the battery hasn't died yet. Even though I haven't been using it. I went on Snapchat and tried to send a snapchat to Lillian. It won't send. Oh well, I'm not surprised.

Just as the night before, I stripped off my clothes and laid them out in a neat pile in case I needed to use them tomorrow. Since it's the weekend I was hopeful to get some laundry done and be able to wear the pajamas I bought. I put Soda's cotton shirt back on again and hopefully it'll be the last time.

I tucked myself in tightly and I drifted into my bedtime coma.

Chapter 7: The Time Machine

Chapter Text

Monday May 10, 1965

After another boring day at school, I went off to find that Time Machine. Everything has been happening to fast, I haven't had a chance to go out and get it. I thought it was about time to come back home. Or at least try to figure it out. I was starting to feel homesick and I hated keeping secrets and lying to people who were beginning to care about me. I didn't want to say "goodbye" to them right away, just in case something doesn't work out. Like, if I can't find it right away or something. I'll be sure to say "goodbye" eventually, I don't want to be rude and have them wonder what happened to me.

I've talked to Darry a couple times about staying at his house. After spending some time with him, he grew to care for me. I was allowed to stay the rest of the week, and that turned to the rest of the month. I talked to him over the weekend and told him that I can leave whenever he wants me to. He said I can stay as long as I want, as long as I help out with chores and dealt with dinners from time to time. That was an even compromise, especially since he was giving me my own room and I don't even have to pay rent.

I was humbly and officially given Soda's room to live in, which I was very grateful for. Soda usually stays with Pony in Pony's room anyways, or sometimes I think Soda crashes in their parents room if Pony is already asleep or is busy doing homework. Last resort, he sleeps on the couch.

It hasn't been too long, but I have really been trying to blend into this decade. I honestly expected more Beatlemania and Austin Powers, but I felt like I was trapped in the 50s rather than the 60s. I've found teasing the crown of my hair into a small bouffant and tying some of my hair back with a dark ribbon or using a black headband, keeping the rest of my hair curled loosely were the easiest hairstyles I quickly mastered. I replicated it for school, and I didn't get any negative comments about my hair again.

I drove off to a recognizable dirt road. I eventually found my shoe prints from a week before, and I followed the trail into the grass patch where I found the large rock that I hid the Machine behind. I jumped out of my car while it was still running and approached the big rock. The Time Machine wasn't behind the rock. My heart stopped. My eyes followed a trace in the dirt that looked like something with claws pulled it away the rock. I found the Time Machine, it was dragged further into the grass. When I got to it, it was covered in obvious scratch and bite marks. Bits and pieces of the switches and gears were missing.

sh*t.

It looked like an animal got to it and decided to play with it.

"No, no, no, no!" I quickly and hopelessly put the metal headband on and I sat down in the dirt and placed the T bar between my legs. I didn't know how to work it, but I did my best to remember what Lillian did. I frantically flipped some of the switches that were still there, spun some gears, and set the date to the day after I left. I knew that if you go to a time you existed, you could potentially meet yourself. Something bad could happen and I don't want to know what it is. Better to be safe than sorry.

I flipped the start lever and absolutely nothing happened. I flipped it again, still nothing.

"No, no, no!" I screamed every time it didn't work. I ripped the headband off my head and threw the entire Machine away from me. Causing it to break apart more.

Not my intention.

I buried my face into my knees and cried out in frustration. The Time Machine was broken, so I had no possible way to get back home now. When I composed myself, I calmly gathered every bit of the Time Machine I could get my hands on and threw it in the trunk of my car. My palms were wet from wiping my frustrated tears away. I couldn't look like I was crying, or I would never hear the end of it.

To stay optimistic, I was telling myself that it wasn't totally broken. If Lillian was here, she could fix it. I just have to think like Lillian. Except, I don't typically tinker with stuff like she does. I knew that I needed to remain optimistic and have hope. I'll figure it out eventually.

I drove back into town and went into a Dairy Queen bathroom to wash the dirt out of my fingernails and my clothes. I didn't want to be questioned why I was covered in dirt. Running out the door I heard a Soc shout "grease!" at a lone Greaser trying to enjoy his ice cream cone in peace. No fight broke though.

It was still early so I drove all the way to the mall to get more clothes. I like to shop when I'm frustrated. Besides, I'm going to be here a lot longer than I initially thought.

I got back to the Curtis house with all of my new stuff shoved into one bag. I try to sneak them in because I don't want the guys to mock me for it. I know I should be saving money, but at least now I have the wardrobe of a normal person here. It is one less thing I need to worry about.

I twisted the knob to the front door and used my shoulder to push it open. I could hear the nearly unintelligible raspy voice of the ill-tempered Donald Duck that came from the television, with Two-Bit sitting on the floor with an entire chocolate cake balancing on his thighs on a plate and a beer in his hand.

"Where the hell have you been?" He asked while he rubbed the back of his wrist against his chocolatey lips. He had some crumbs on his blue Mickey Mouse shirt that looked like he cut the sleeves off of.

A typical outfit for the gang are loose cotton twill trousers or dark jeans, brown or black engineer boots or converse sneakers, dark button-ups with rolled up sleeves, tight t-shirts, and sometimes suspenders. Two-Bit is the only one who wears a shirt with a Mickey Mouse graphic.

"Where haveIbeen?" I asked as I kicked my shoes off. Why did he care?

"That's what I said." He took a swig of his beer.

"Who are you? My dad?" I joked as I headed into the room I stole from Soda. I tossed my bag in there and shut the door.

I came back out to the living room as Two asked, "what's for dinner?"

"How should I know? I just got home!" I replied back. I took a look at the clock and saw it was nearly five o'clock, Darry would be home from work soon. "Why don't you make it?"

"I can't make nothin' good," he said.

I audibly groaned but then thought for a second. I could make dinner, or at least get dinner so Darry didn't have to worry about it when he got home. A pizza sounded really good. I ran into the kitchen and looked through the pantry, the fridge, and some cabinets to try to find anything that sounded better than pizza. I found nothing, so I found the phone book to try to find a pizza parlor to order from. I miss Google.

Two called out to me, "Sodie and Stevie are workin' so we was thinkin' 'bout headin' over there. Wanna come?"

"Sure." I grinned excitedly. I loved spending time with the gang when it was all of us, or at least most of us. It felt like Darry was always left out, but he didn't have the time. Even I really only see him in the mornings and at night.

I ditched the phone book and wrote a little note for Darry to let him know that I'll pick up a pizza on my way home. I walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch to slip my shoes back on.

Two came up to his feet and he tilted his head back to let the last of his beer drip onto his tongue. He gripped the empty bottle in his palm and he bent down to carefully pick up the cake. With light feet he walked to the kitchen to put it back in the old fridge.

"Johnny! Pony!" Two shouted loudly, which boomed throughout the small house. "Y'all are about as slow as molasses!"

"We are comin', we are comin'," Pony murmured as he and Johnny walked into the living room.

"Taking longer than a month of Sunday's, I tell ya," Two tsked.

"Have patience," Ponyboy said with attitude in his tone.

Two opened the front door for everyone and swung it closed behind us. We headed down to the street, where Dally was leaning his arms over the chain link fence that surrounds the Curtis property.

"Hey, man, you got a smoke?" Dally asked just as Two and I were heading up to the gate.

"Just some Kools," Two said and tossed the pack to Dally.

"Thanks, man." Dally took out a cigarette and stuck it between his teeth.

"What happened to yours?" Two asked. He opened the gate for me and waited for Pony and Johnny before he closed it. I wasn't quite sure what the point of this gate was anyway if they didn't lock it. Even if they did, it was too short to keep anyone out. Maybe they had a dog at some point?

"Finished 'em. Didn't feel like gettin' another." He stuck Two's pack in his back pocket, which clearly made Two annoyed but he didn't say anything.

"Why are we goin' over to bug Soda and Steve anyway? They're workin'," Pony asked.

Dally took a drag of his cigarette while Two explained, "because they're workin' and we wanna bug 'em."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," I said with a little laugh. They are dumb as hell and they all have impulse control problems but I love them anyway.

We began our walk to the DX. It's not a long drive, but it felt like a long walk. Especially under the heat of the Oklahoma sun. Telephone wires above us were sizzling, hissing like rattlesnakes. Two walked beside me closest to the street, looking down to avoid stepping on any cracks in the sidewalk.

Dally walked next to Pony and Johnny just up ahead of us. Pony looked like their third-wheel, he had to walk just behind them so he wouldn't have to step off the sidewalk. At one point I heard Johnny's small voice ask Dally a question but Dally's answer was to put him in a loose headlock, jump in the air, and pretend to pound on his head while making crashing sound effects.

"Come on, Dallas," Johnny grunted in annoyance. Dally just laughed, thinking it was funny.

When the DX was finally in sight, Two started shouting like a madman while skipping around the gas pumps like an asshole.

"Oi! Sodapop! Steve-o!" Two shouted through his cupped hands. He usually got a bit more rambunctious when he drank. "Yoo-hoo! Get out here 'fore I go in there and drag y'all out!"

The door to the DX cracked open before I saw Soda's head peak out. A smile cracked through his lips and I saw him gesture to someone behind him. He walked over to us and just before the door closed Steve pushed it open and met us all between the pumps.

"Soda, here come the hobos," I heard Steve's voice call out.

"What are you punks doing here?" Soda asked us.

"Wanted to get into some trouble before the fight tonight!" Two yelled, followed by howling like a wolf.

"You oughta keep your voice down," Steve sounded annoyed.

"Or what?" Two asked with wide eyes, followed by his booming laughter.

"Or I'll... or I'll..." Steve stammered. "Oh, I don't know. Just hush up."

Dally grabbed a windshield wiper from the ground and started to bang it against the nearby garbage can like a drum. Steve tried to swipe it from him but Dally hid it behind his back.

Soda watched and he laughed at their childish bickering. His smile can light up this whole town. I giggled softly at them. You could sense the brotherhood all these boys had together. When Soda saw me, he slipped around Dally and stood beside me.

"How's it goin'?" He asked with his smooth voice.

"Just thinking of ways to annoy you while you're at work."

"You can't annoy me. These guys on the other hand—" he pointed his finger around and made sure it hit every member of the gang. "They drive me outta my mind."

"Oh, come on, you love it when we come around," Two said.

"Keeps us away from payin' customers," Steve stated firmly with a scowl and a little stomp of his foot.

"Speaking of payin', I've got an itchin' for a beer and a few bucks to blow," Two stated while scratching one of his rusty sideburns.

"Hope you got your fake, 'cause the big boss is inside," Soda told him as he nodded towards the building.

"Damn," Two grunted.

"I'll get it, man," Dally said and grabbed his wallet from his back pocket. He thumbed through his cash until he found his fake identification card that stated his age was twenty-two and not seventeen. "Get me a beer and we'll be square."

"I'll ring ya up," Steve said and the three guys headed into the DX.

"After work today I was thinkin' about hitting up The Dingo. How do you say to that?" Soda asked me. Pony and Johnny were starting to walk off, lost in their own conversation.

"What's The Dingo?" I asked.

"Just a diner here on the east side, it ain't too far. You haven't been there yet?"

I shook my head. "No, I haven't."

"You and me will go."

"Okay," I chuckled. Then I stopped to groan, "wait, I probably shouldn't."

"Why not?" His eyebrows came together.

"I don't have money," I lied. I ran my fingers through my hair and squinted my eyes at him from the sun to try to throw him off the scent that I was lying. It's not that I don't have money, but I needed to at least try to save it now. I have no job, and what I have left may just be what I live off of for the rest of my life. I have to be careful.

"Why don't you work here?" Soda asked.

My eyebrows raised slightly, it wasn't a bad idea. "Really?"

He chuckled softly. "Sure. It'll be mighty nice to see you more. And we could use someone on the till. I ain't too good at math and Steve hates it."

"Do I have to apply? Or..." I asked. I wasn't sure how they got jobs in 1965. Just show up one day and start working? I don't even have a social security card that would be valid.

"I'll talk to the Big Man. You hold tight." He put his DX hat on my head and tilted the bill down over my eyes which made me giggle. By the time I fixed it he was already inside the DX while Two, Steve, and Dally were coming back out with beers.

"Imma get so boozed up I ain't even gonna know what day it is," Two stated while reaching into his pack and pulling out a beer.

Dally grabbed one for himself and he twisted the cap off. He rose his bottle in the air and said, "here, here."

"On a Monday?" I asked. "A Monday afternoon?"

Two clicked his tongue and said matter-of-factly, "yes."

"Any night can be a Friday night if you don't got no where to go the next day," Dally stated. "Take it from me. I quit and now everyday is a Friday night."

I shrugged in agreement, I guess he's right in his own twisted sort of way. The party for him never ends. The bill of the hat blocked the sun from my eyes which felt nice. Pony and Johnny came walking back to our group. Pony looked at the case and asked if he could have one.

"Soda'll be back any second now. He'll be real mad if he sees ya drink that," Steve pointed out. He was smelling like sweat and motor oil.

"Real mad," Two contributed as he chugged his beer.

"And Darry'll pop your head off," Steve added.

"Yeah, I know," Pony mumbled.

"Play it cool, little brother. You're a grease for life. Your time will come," Two said.

Ponyboy the youngest in this gang, and I can see how he easily falls through the cracks. He knows it too. He is eager to please and he tries his best because he wants to be apart of things and doesn't want to be looked over. But he is so unfocused, it bites him in the ass. I feel bad for him.

Soda came out of the DX and trotted over to us. He had his jean jacket slung over his shoulder. He tossed something toward me that hit my chest before it fell in my hands. I looked at it and realized it was an employee shirt for the DX.

"You got me the job?" I asked with a smile, it was hard to contain my excitement. When I talk to him, it's like everyone else disappears.

"He said a reference from me was good enough. I told him you got school, so you can work nights. I usually work mornings, but you ain't never gonna be by your lonesome."

"Thank you, thank you!" I exclaimed and jumped onto Soda for a hug. I felt him wrap his muscular arms around me and his chest bounced with his infectious laughter.

"What are you gonna do tonight, Dal?" Johnny asked Dally in a low voice.

"Prowlin'," he answered stiffly. "There's a spot here in town where a guy's guaranteed to score. There's a new butcher at the grocery store down the street, and she's got the best tongue in town."

"Gross," Ponyboy mumbled.

"Come on, Dal," Steve groaned.

"She delivers both night and day, I tell ya," Dally laughed cynically.

"What kind of girls do you usually go for, Dally?" Johnny asked.

Dally shrugged. "Any of 'em. I love 'em all, and theyloveme."

"They love me too," Two included himself.

"Sure, Two," Dally snarked.

"What? I get girls."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah! You better bet your life," Two-Bit said, followed by his rambunctious laughter.

"Show us how it's done then, Einstein!" Dally shouted playfully.

"Look, I know I ain't no Romeo. I ain't no sweet talker, but I do fine," Two rebutted with a cheeky grin.

"How about it? First guy to get a girl tonight wins a case of beer," Dally bargained.

"You're on," Two said, eyeing Dally as he polished off his beer. He tossed the bottle into the road then tried to reach over to mess with Dally's hair.

Dally leaned out of his way and scolded him angrily. "Hands off the hair. Anyone ever teach you any manners, huh?!"

"Are you ready to go to The Dingo?" Soda asked as I pulled away, but his hands still rested on my waist while my arms stayed around his neck, slipping to my hands.

"Yeah, are you off?"

"Just about."

"You're leavin' me?" Steve asked with a pout.

"I was gonna anyways," Soda stated. I stepped to the side and Soda pulled me closer to his hip.

"Yeah, yeah." Steve waved us off while stomping back into the DX.

Soda chuckled and said to me in a low voice by my ear, "he's just jealous. He ain't gone to The Dingo in a while."

"What? Do they have good burgers or something?" I asked.

"Eh." Soda shrugged. "Cheap beer. Food is edible. Rowdy company. We can walk there, it ain't too far."

"Yeah, let's do it." With him, I'd walk anywhere.

Soda didn't have to clock out or anything, he just left with me walking right beside him. Unless he already did, I wasn't sure. Dally stayed behind with Pony and Johnny, just hanging around the DX gas pumps.

As we walked, I noticed a smear of grease on his cheek. Since knowing him, there is always some part of him that has smears of dirt or grease on his skin. Usually it’s on his arms or his face. Soda ran his hands through his thick fluffy brown hair. He didn't put much grease in it today so I told him that I liked his hair like that.

"Makes me feel like a blow-dried poodle," he said while he ran his fingers through it. "I ran out this morning. I'm gonna have to use Pony's until pay day but I don't like the way his makes my hair feel."

Soda took a breath like he was going to say more, then he paused. His eyes looked up to the sky and he asked, "do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Hear those birds? I love hearing them sing. I love opening my window in the morning and listening to them. Flowers are gonna be blooming soon too," he said with a smile. I greatly admire how much Soda enjoys life's small pleasures. It's one of my favorite qualities he has. He pierced his lips together and started whistling, perfectly mimicking the bird noises we heard around us.

"Wow, I didn't know you could whistle," I said.

"My pop used to get annoyed 'cause he'd think a bird got into the house," he laughed at the fond memory. "By the way, how're you liking the room?"

"Your room?" I asked.

"Sure."

"It's nice, thanks for letting me stay there. It sure beats the couch."

"Yeah, no kidding. Sometimes Buck crashes on the couch and I'd sure hate for you to wake up to that guy."

"Who?" I asked.

"One of Dally's rodeo friends. He has parties at his place all the time. I've been to a few, and they're wild. We don't let Pony near him."

"Then I don't think I'd like him too much either."

"No, I don't think you would."

"Darry doesn't mind that I'm still there, does he?" I asked. I just felt so guilty for living at their house but I quite literally have no where else to go.

"Not at all."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Are you positive?" I asked.

Soda chuckled, "yes, I'm positive."

"I can't help but feel like I'm a burden. It's nagging at me."

"You ain't a burden. If there's one thing you gotta know about Darry is that he's real honest and direct, he'd let you know. If you were a burden, Darry woulda had you out by now.

"Okay." I took his word for it. It still didn't help the lingering feeling I had that told me that I was just another responsibility for him. "I don't want him to think he has to take care of me."

"Oh, you see that's where you're wrong. He has to worry himself sick about you now that you live under his roof. That's the trade."

"Not so sure that's a fair trade on his part," I stated.

"Just make sure you eat enough and you're home by curfew and you'll be golden."

"Speaking of eating, I promised Darry I'd pick up a pizza for dinner tonight," I told him.

"We can swing by The Pizza Parlor and grab something on the way back home," he promised.

We got to The Dingo and Soda guided me to one of the only empty booths in the dark joint. Someone stopped us to talk to Soda, I didn't recognize who he was but their conversation was brief. A waitress walked by and flirted with him a little, asking if he wanted his usual but he turned her offer down and said he wasn't too hungry.

The place was crawling with greasers, and it was not a peaceful place. Rough looking guys were playing cards in one corner and pool in the other. Greasers with leather jackets and cowboy boots were shamelessly hugging their girls with their hand on their ladies butts. It was a smoke filled restaurant and any smell of cheap perfume was masked with the smell of greasy food and cigarettes. A real honky-tonk. Rock music was playing through a jukebox where I saw someone slip a dime in and he picked the next song.

A garage rock song began to play,Gloriaby Van Morrison's band Them. This song is as raunchy as it's reputation, but it's so good. It's a perfect rock anthem, and I can see why greasers love it.

You know she comes around here,
Just about midnight,
She make me feel so good, Lord,
She make me feel alright.

And her name is G-L-O-R-I,
G-L-O-R-I-A,
Gloria,
I'm gonna shout it all night,
Gloria,
I'm gonna shout it every day.

"I'll get us something to drink. co*ke?"

"Yes, please." I smiled. I've always liked the taste of Diet co*ke more than regular, but it won't be invented for almost another twenty years.

Soda came back with two glasses of co*ke from the bar. On very rare occasions he will drink alcohol like the rest of the gang, I'm talking a sip here and there just to taste. Steve told me it doesn't take much for Soda to get drunk, since he's a lightweight, and the only times he will get drunk is on the Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, and New Years Eve. But Soda never drinks around Ponyboy. Otherwise, he likes the dry life and he will drink soda's with me. He handed me the glass, and I stuck a red and white striped straw in it, breaking apart some of the ice.

I used the straw to spin the ice around in my glass. I asked uninterestedly, "how's Sandy?"

Even though I knew the fate of their relationship, it was still very real to him and to me. Being here, it didn't feel like Soda was as in love with her as Pony made him out to be in his book. He never talked about her to me, it was as if she didn't even exist until someone else brought her up. They were going to break up within the year, but now I don't know if time will play it's course and she will run off to Florida, or if Soda will break up with her earlier.

Unless I somehow screwed up the past and they never break up.

Oh my god. I really have to stop thinking about this.

"She's fine," he said in the same tone.

I forced my smile so he wouldn't notice that I was quite jealous of Sandy, I can't help it. She really is beautiful, she has to be if she's going around with someone like Soda. She's got blue eyes and blonde hair, the opposite of me. I haven't met her yet, but Soda has her picture up in his room. When she looks into Soda's beautiful, dancing eyes she better know how incredibly lucky she is. She literally has everything that I don't.

"Pony told me that you think she's the one," I said and took a sip of my co*ke.

Soda chuckled with an embarrassed smile and said, "I don't know. Pony don't know nothin'."

"Come on, you can tell me," I pestered with a giggle. I didn't want him to think that I wanted him. I just want him to be happy, so if Sandy makes him happy then I will support him with that... for now. "You guys have been dating for how long? Like a year?"

He nodded and took a gulp of his drink. "Yeah, just about. I was so in love with her, I thought I finally had it right. Now... I don't really know."

"What made you change your mind?" I asked softly.

She comes around here,
Just about midnight,
She make me feel so good, Lord,
I wanna say she make me feel alright.

Soda continuously drank his soda to either avoid my question, or he was trying to think of an answer. His eyebrows scrunched together, indicating he finally knew what to say. When his lips left his glass he asked, "you won't tell no one, will you?"

"No," I promised.

"There's someone else."

God dammit. I didn't see that one coming. I felt my heart drop to my turning stomach, I didn't even want to think about something like that, but I shouldn't be surprised. I've seen the girls that go to the DX just to catch a glimpse of Soda working. Socs and greasers all want him. He can literally get any girl he wants. He's incredibly sweet, friendly, humble, kind, and so handsome.

Comes walkin' down my street,
Won't you come to my house?
Can knock upon my door,
And then she comes to my room,
Now she make me feel alright.

"Oh," I said softly.

"She's real nice, and mighty pretty."

"Would I like her?" I asked cynically. I didn't even care to know her name.

He grinned. "I sure hope so."

"I hope so too," I mumbled. I need to stop being delusional, he will never be mine. "Does the gang like her?"

"Oh, they really do. I didn't meet her all that long ago, but when I'm with her she makes me forget all about Sandy. That's love, ain't it?"

"Not sure that it'slove, but it's something," I replied glumly and drank more of my co*ke. I was trying to think of anything to derail us from this upsetting conversation. I heard resin balls clack together so I glanced over and saw some pool tables. "Is that pool?"

"Yup. Wanna play?" Soda asked.

"Yeah, but I've never played before."

His eyebrows shot up. "Never?"

I shook my head and Soda left the booth to grab a couple of cues for us. We went to an empty table and he started explaining the rules to me. He showed me how to rack the balls and aimed his pool cue at the white ball and hit it, causing all the other balls to fly around on the green felt table.

"You just gotta hit the white ball and don't let that 8-ball go into a pocket. That one's last."

"How did you do that?" I asked, bending down and trying to adjust the pool cue around my fingers.

"Like this." Soda came up behind me and put his hand over mine, fiddling with my fingers to get them into the right spot. His touch was electrifying, yet softer than a summers night. His chest was against my back as we leaned down together, and he grabbed a firm hold of my wrist. "Bring it back, and—just like that."

His arm pushed the cue forward so it hit the white ball, sending one of the solid colored balls down into a corner pocket.

"There you go, nice," he said excitedly. He went again and this time he knocked a couple of stripes in.

We were standing so close, he smiled down at me and I blushed softly. I couldn't help the way my heart was racing, this really took me by surprise. I think I'm really falling for his smile. It was a magic moment, and by the look in his eyes I knew he felt it too. It's just one of the many ways I got to know his pretty face. He's smooth, like James Dean. With his lips so close to mine, I knew that this very moment would last forever until the end of time. I had to look away to keep myself from doing something stupid.

This made me wonder if it was me he was talking about when we were at the booth. Am I the one that makes him forget about Sandy?

Suddenly, a fight broke out on the other side of the diner. We both snapped our heads toward the corner where greasers were huddling together while breaking glass bottles and yelling at each other.

"Let's get outta here." Soda had his hand on my arm and we ran out of the Dingo together, pushing through greasers who were trying to rush inside to be a part of the excitement.

Soda grabbed me and pulled me away from the door until my back was against the side of the building. My breathing was heavy but it turned into a laugh. "Does that always happen?" I asked.

"Usually."

"Remind me to stay away from this place."

"Don't worry, I ain't gonna let you get hurt. You'll always be safe with me."

Just then, I heard someone clear their throat. I looked over and noticed Dally was standing against the wall with a cigarette between his fingers and he was spinning a beer in his hand.

"What are you doing here?" Soda asked.

"Waiting for Buck. Sounds like he's got himself tied up in there," Dally stated while we continued to hear the sounds of fighting coming from inside the diner. He nodded towards me and asked, "you don't want to get in on the fun in there?"

"If I want to get my ass beat," I chuckled.

"We should teach you how to fight. You know, just in case one of us ain't around," Dally suggested.

"Them Socs ain't gonna beat up a girl," Soda stated. "They got their sights on the little guys."

"Or ladies who can't fight back," Dally pointed out.

I sneered at him. "I can fight back."

I cannot. I'm a Pisces, I'll cry first.

"Oh, yeah?" Dally laughed humorlessly. He flicked his cigarette away. "Fight me. Come on, show me what you got."

I stuck my nose up in the air and said firmly, "no."

"Because you know that you'll lose." He smirked.

"Exactly," I agreed. He was not happy that I agreed with him.

"Leave her alone, Dal," Soda said.

"Listen, them Socs can really hurt you broads and ain't nothing ever happens to them. They don't even get sentenced to a chastity belt," Dally stated gruffly. "I don't want to be coming to your place or nothing and seeing that one of our own is in the hospital. That includes you." He pointed at me.

Soda thought for a moment before he said, "you know what, he's right. If you're gonna be hanging around us we should teach you a thing or two."

"How about it?" Dally asked, exhaling slowly. "We will teach you everything you need to know and how to survive out here with us."

"Right now?" I asked.

"Put up your dukes," he said while shaking out his arms, like he was gearing up to beat my ass.

"Is he serious?" I asked, looking at Soda.

He gave me a very small nod while his eyes grew and he stared at Dally. Dally came up right beside me and he grabbed my hair. He spun his long fingers around the strands and pulled me in a bit, just enough for me to exclaim from the sudden pain.

"What was that for?" I asked, bringing up my hand to his wrist but he didn't let go of my hair.

"Some Soc comes up and grabs a hold of your hair. He ain't gonna let go easy, so what's your natural response?" He pulled me so close, I could smell the cigarette on his breath and his eyes were deep in mine.

"To pull him off?" I wasn't sure if it was a question.

"Try it."

I grabbed his wrist firmly and tried to rip his hand off my hair, but it didn't work. I even tried to pry his fingers off but they didn't budge. All that happened was I felt some strands rip and my scalp throbbed.

"Doesn't work, does it?" He asked with a sly little smirk.

I exhaled sharply. "No."

"No." He let my hair slip from his fingers and he tugged on the collar of his jacket and he said, "grab here. Pretend this is my hair."

I grabbed a hold of his jacket and clutched it tightly. I glanced over at Soda who was watching intently. His eyes met with mine, but then he rolled them back over to Dally with a suspicious squint.

"So, what you are gonna do, is take the hand on the one he's pulling your hair on and put it on his wrist like this." He hooked his bear hand over my wrist and held it securely in his grasp. "Then, you're gonna take your free hand and smack his nose. I'm not talking a slap, I'm talking hard and straight from the palm."

Dally reached his hand up to my face and was gentle when he covered it. He pushed it back slightly which made me giggle, and then he said, "once you hit his nose, his eyes are gonna close and his head is gonna fall back. Then you're gonna slug him in the chin. When his head goes that way, I guarantee that he's gonna loosen his grip on your hair. Got it?"

"Got it," I promised. I released his jacket, and the fabric didn't fall back to his shoulder. Instead it stayed clumped up. He fluffed out his shirt a bit, raising it enough that he flashed his abs.

"Now, do it to me. But don't actually hit me, just tap it."

He grabbed my hair again, and stared me down. I started to smile so I bit the inside of my cheek. Dally returned the expression. I thought for a moment about the steps he just instructed me on. I grabbed his wrist, then I brought my other hand up to his nose and pretended to punch his jaw, which he let his head fly back and his grasp loosened, letting my hair slip through his fingers.

"How was that?" I asked.

"Real fine. Just some more practice and you'll be golden. Them hair pulls are no joke. Guys will try to use it to overpower you. There's another I wanna to show you. Go against that wall there."

We walked over to the wall and he stood in front of me. He brought his hands up to my neck and he gently pushed me against the wall. I felt chills rush up my back and I let out a little gasp from the surprise of Dally choking me lightly.

"You good, doll?" He asked with a charming smile.

"Good," I responded as well as I could with his hands wrapped around my throat. He wasn't applying any pressure to my windpipe, but I could feel his long fingers along the sides of my throat.

It was genuinely scary when I thought about how strong guys are. I realized in this moment how gentle they are with me, but how easy it would be for them to quite literally manhandle me. Dally was being gentle now, but if a random Soc wanted to put his hands on me, he probably could. And that terrified me.

"A lot of people will try to pull their hands off of you," Dally educated. "Try it."

I reached my hands up and got a grip of his each of his wrists. I tried to pull them out and away from my neck, but they didn't move. They stayed firm, which frustrated me. I huffed and tried to reposition my hands but I still didn't get a good enough hold to take control of this situation.

"I'm too strong for that. Even if you bring your arms up between my hands, you ain't gonna make me go anywhere."

I tried it anyway, and I couldn't get his hands off of me. He is really strong. I clenched my jaw and looked at him with annoyance, but he seemed to find it amusing.

"Instead, bring one of your arms all the way up and lead with the elbow down as hard as you can while twisting your body in the direction of your elbow. Using the weight of your whole body will break their grip then throw the elbow to his face. M'kay? Give me all you got."

I brought my arm up and brought my elbow down across Dally's forearms. They slipped a little but he managed to get a better grip again.

"Harder than that. Come on."

"This is dumb."

"You wanna be tough? You better listen to me. Come on, give it to me."

I raised my arm then swung it down like I was doing an elbow-drop move in wrestling. His hands immediately slipped and he looked at me with a gleam in his eyes. I smiled proudly.

"Now, last one. I promise." Dally grabbed my shoulders and pulled me away from the wall near where Soda was standing. He got behind me and he snaked his elbow around my neck and he pulled me against him. He was warm against my back. "Soda, I want you to stand behind her just like this."

Soda came over and traded places with Dally. He wrapped his arm around my neck gingerly while Dally stepped to the side. He rubbed his wrist as he said, "Soda, you're gonna have to hold her a little tighter."

"I don't want to hurt her," Soda said softly so he wasn't yelling in my ear.

"You ain't gonna hurt her," Dally reassured with an annoyed tone.

Soda hesitated but he squeezed his muscled arm around my neck just a little more. I heard him breathing softly, and I felt his body pressed up against mine.

"Bri, you're gonna wanna lean forward a little and get a good grip on his wrist and elbow. You're shorter than Soda here but you're still gonna want to bend your knees so your center of gravity is stable and below his. Then bend forward sharply. Go on, do it."

I immediately threw my chest forward and pulled Soda's arm down. I heard him yelp as he flew over my back. He smacked hard on the ground and rolled onto his side while he groaned.

"Are you okay?" I asked in the midst of laughing. I couldn't believe how well that worked.

The wind was knocked out of him but he gave me a weak thumbs up and he rolled onto his side and wheezed, "good."

"Way to go," Dally said.

"Now I know why you didn't want to demonstrate that one," I chuckled.

"How'd you learn all that, Dally?" Soda asked as he slowly stood back up. He brushed the dirt and loose gravel off his jacket and the back of his jeans.

"When you fight, you gotta know how to defend yourself too. I had a friend in New York who got killed on the streets from a guy who choked her for a measly buck-ninety-nine."

We heard the fighting get closer and closer and eventually a bunch of guys came out like fighting cats. They were in a ball of flailing limbs and dirt like a cartoon. They bared their teeth at each other and were yowling like animals. Soda grabbed my elbows and pulled me away from the fight, and we watched as they beat and pummeled each other into the street.

"That's my cue," Dally stated and tossed the beer bottle into a nearby bush. He ran passed us to deliberately join the action.

"He's crazy," I stated the obvious.

"That's Dally for ya."

Soda and I both heard another commotion coming from behind us. We both turned around to hear people cheering and whooping eagerly while two cars were revving their engines up the road a ways. I brought my hand up over my eyes to block the sun.

"What's going on up there?" I asked.

"I'll show ya. Come on." He grabbed my hand and we ran together away from the fight and up to the cars where other greasers were starting to line up along the lightly-traveled road. He always has some new and exciting activity up his sleeve.

We squished ourselves in with the audience while one of the greaser guys was going around, taking bets. Soda gave him a few bucks and said, "I've got my money on that T-Bird there."

"Which one?" I asked, looking at the two cars.

"The red one," he said.

"So, what is this?" I asked.

"It's a drag race. Then two cars are gonna book it over to that next light down there." He pointed to a stop light down the road. "First car that makes it wins. I love to drive in them."

"Hey, Soda," I heard. Soda and I both looked over to see a greaser I didn't recognize walk up to us. He had a toothpick in his mouth, and was wiggling it between his teeth.

"Tim, what's your money on?" Soda asked him.

"That hunk of junk in the corner," he joked.

"How's Curly?"

"Still at the reformatory. He ain't getting out for a while. Probably around six months. Maybe a year." His blue eyes gazed over at me and he asked, "who's your girl?"

"This is Bri. Bri, this is Tim Shepard. He's a good friend of Dally's and runs with the Shepard gang," Soda introduced.

Tim gave me a grim, bitter smile. He looked a little older than me, but I assumed he was probably still in high school if he wasn't a drop out. He had black curly hair, and a scar that ran from his temple down to his chin. There was something about him that was painfully familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"Don’t think we’ve met, I’d remember a heartbreaker like yourself. How goes it, Bri?" Tim asked. I noticed a beer in his hand and a cigarette behind his ear.

"Good. I've never been to a drag race before so I'm excited."

"Your first?" His eyebrows raised.

"Mhm." I hummed with a soft smile.

"Soda, you gotta get your girl up to the front if it's her first!"

"You can count on it." Soda smiled at me.

"See you around, man," Tim said as he patted Soda's back and disappeared into the crowd.

"See you," Soda said back. Then he turned to me and said, "he leads the Shepard Gang, they're real strict and organized. We only really run with them during rumbles."

"Oh, okay," I said.

Soda looked over my head and waved someone over. "Hey, Two!"

Two came running over to us with an excited grin on his face. He had to push passed a few people but he finally got to us and asked with a slight slur, "when did you guys get here?"

"Just now. We were at the Dingo." Soda jabbed his thumb back toward the direction of the restaurant.

The cars were both revving their engines a lot more excessively. Everyone's attention was on the cars, and greasers were shouting excitedly and cheering for their driver. A gunshot rang out, and they took off speeding down the street. Greasers started swarming the streets, running after the cars while jumping in the air or throwing their hats up. A drag race is a test of acceleration, and the T-Bird reached the finish line by flying through the next stop-light first.

"Yeah!" Most of the greasers were screaming happily while a few ran over to the other car that lost.

Soda was jumping up and down and pumping his fist in the air. I admire how outgoing he is, and it's clear that he absolutely loves to be around people. Two grabbed one of the beers he bought at the DX and lifted it over his head and poured it straight into his mouth, letting the foam drip over his face. I laughed and grimaced at Two's disgusting action and bumped into Soda in my attempt of getting away from Two so I didn't get wet.

In his overwhelming happiness, Soda picked me up and spun me around. I held him tight and giggled until he put me down. People were still cheering loudly for the win, everyone was rowdy and having a great time. I just can't stop myself from falling for him.

Soda collected his money and threatened to kiss it, he was so happy. He planted a kiss on my cheek and joined the enthusiastic screaming.

Soda's eyes twinkle with mischief and he has kind of amischievous-but-sweetsmile. In the moment our eyes met, my heart knew that I would never be alone again. I really hope that I don't fall in love with him, then I don't know if I'll ever be able to leave.

Chapter 8: The Outsiders: The Beginning

Chapter Text

--A FEW MONTHS LATER--
September

I grew accustom to the way of life as a Greaser girl in 1965. School had ended, hot summer days drifted into warm summer nights. Summer came and went. Classes recently started back up and the nights grew colder. I was being accepted as a part of their gang, and I was hanging out with them with pretty much everything they did. They didn't seem to mind, I think they all liked my company.

During the summer, I worked a lot at the DX. Mornings, afternoons, and nights. My main job was to fill gas tanks and ring up customers buying road snacks while Steve and Soda could focus on working on cars in the stuffy garage. I wasn't a car girl, but when I got bored I would grab some bottles of co*ke and hangout with the guys. It was so cute how excited they got when I expressed some interest in their passion and when they'd teach me something new about cars.

Working at the DX, I get to hear all of the town gossip. We have regulars who come in all the time and they usually talk to me about their lives while Soda or Steve are filling up their tanks or taking a look at their engines. I get tipped more than the guys, which pisses Steve off.

Sometimes during school I'd go over there during my lunch period to get snacks and to just hangout with Soda. And Steve, of course. They liked when I came around, they said it brightened their day. Soda never made me pay for the snacks I got for lunch. He claimed it's because I work there, but sometimes Steve would make me pay because 'just because you work here, don't mean you get stuff for free'.

I think I am fitting in relatively well at school now. I've made friends and it feels like a lot of people seem to know who I am, even if I don't know who they are. Greasers and Socs alike. Students will stand and stare at me as I walk by like I'm still the weird new girl. Some students love me and are so sweet and kind to me, while some seem to fear me, as if I'm stalking the halls and will attack them with any sudden movement. I have no idea what their problem is, and I can't guess why. Maybe Mark Kenner went around telling everyone I was clinically insane. Maybe I am. I'm just going with the flow at this point.

Darry, Sodapop, and I were walking back home from the grocery store. I have been pitching in for the groceries and other household necessities, and I clean a lot too in exchange for living there rent free. I really try my best to pitch in to show Darry my appreciation for him. I don't want him to feel under-appreciated. One thing I learned that we don't buy from the grocery store is milk, because the guys get home milk deliveries delivered by a milkman in glass bottles. I swear we get deliveries every other day. We drink a lot of milk.

Every week I buy flowers for the dining table, and I think the boys secretly love it. From pictures I've seen, it looks like their mom used to buy flowers for the house all the time. Today, I picked some up when we were at the market. Brown Daylilies, that just so happened to match Soda's dark brown eyes. I kept them in a separate bag so they wouldn't get squished with the other groceries. We didn't bother to use a car since it was nice outside and it's so close. I wasn't sure where anyone else was besides Ponyboy. Ponyboy was at the movies.

"I feel like this bag is gonna rip," I mumbled as I lifted the bag away from my body so I wouldn't accidentally kick it. It was heavy with a bag of sugar and another of coffee, dish soap, a case of glass Pepsi bottles, and a can of tomato sauce. I don't know why I was given the heaviest bag to carry all the way home.

"Put it down and we can switch," Soda offered. I set the bag down and he handed me his. I pulled up the sleeve of the grey flannel I stole from Soda this morning and I grabbed it. It was about as light as a feather with nothing but oatmeal, a box of Life cereal, bread, coffee filters, and toilet tissue.

I nearly gasped, "I could carry this with my pinky."

Soda wheezed as he lifted the bag up so he could hold it against his hip. "God almighty."

"I told you it was heavy," I chuckled.

"Yeah, no kidding."

"Either of you know where Ponyboy is?" Darry asked as we continued to trudge down the street with our bags. I think he was holding paper bags of bananas, peaches, grapes, apples, raw chicken, a glass jar of grape jelly, eggs, and butter.

"He said he was going to the movies," I told him.

Darry chewed on his lower lip and said, "okay. He promised that he would help us get these groceries home."

"Maybe the movie lasted longer than he was expecting," I said, trying to defend Ponyboy.

"He should have met us at the store like he said he would," Darry grumbled.

"Maybe he forgot," I said in a small voice.

"I don't care. If he wants to be a man, he has gotta keep his promises. I ain't gonna let him just do whatever the hell he wants. He's a part of this family, he needs to pull some weight around here," Darry said, clearly frustrated with Ponyboy.

"Lay off. He does good in school, huh?" Soda spoke up.

"Don't you go on defending him. He's disrespecting me and my rules, when everything I do is for you and for him. He needs to know that the world don't revolve around him. He needs to do better. I don't want him just playing around, he needs to help get this family off the ground so he can do something more with his life. I can't do it by myself."

"Look, when we get home, Bri and I can take your truck and drive to the movie-house. Maybe he's still there," Soda suggested.

"Yeah, sure. And you make sure he gets his ass home, Soda. Straight home. You hear me?"

"I hear ya, I hear ya," Soda acknowledged.

"Good. Man, that kid brother of ours is gonna turn my hair gray." Darry let out a sigh.

Suddenly, we heard screaming. It made us all freeze in our footsteps. We heard a faint voice call out, "Soda! Darry! Anyone!"

We all looked at each other, and bolted to the sound of the cries. My endurance has increased significantly since coming to 1965, these boys run fast and I never wanted to fall behind. We turned the corner to reveal a group of Socs pounding someone to the ground. Soda and Darry dropped the grocery bags they were holding and ran toward the action and broke up the fight. I stayed back, I knew they could handle it. I'd get my ass beat if I even tried.

They were shouting and pounding the Socs but they jumped in their car and tried to get away. Steve came running through and was reaching through the car window to try to pull the passenger out while Soda was beating the driver through the open window. Dally appeared from behind a house and he grabbed a massive stick from someone's nearby lawn and started running towards the car with it, then they finally peeled out. Darry grabbed the victim and pulled him up to his feet. The victim was Ponyboy.

I set the bags down by my feet and ran over to Pony and Darry. I wiped my sweating palms against my dark jeans as I approached them and I squatted down beside Pony.

"You alright, Pony?" Darry asked him. Darry was shaking poor Pony all over the place.

"I'm okay. Quit shaking me Darry, I'm okay," Ponyboy said.

Pony looked sick. He had bruises forming on his face and blood was coming out of his temple and his nose. It dribbled down his skin, the same shade of red as my nails and my pull-over sweater. Soda came over to us, looking at me solemnly then down at Pony.

"I'm sorry." Darry stopped shaking him. He always seemed too rough without meaning to be. I don't think he knows his own strength. Ponyboy rubbed his bruised cheek.

"They didn't hurt you too bad, did they?" Darry shoved his fists in his pockets. I noticed that all Greasers do that when things become uncomfortably emotional.

"I'm okay."

Soda bent down beside him and took out a handkerchief. "You got cut up a little, huh, Ponyboy?" He wet the end of the handkerchief with his tongue and pressed it into his cut. "You're bleeding like a stuck pig."

"I am?" Ponyboy seemed confused.

"Look!" Soda showed Ponyboy the blood on the fabric. "Did they pull a blade on you?"

This seems familiar...

"Yeah." Ponyboy looked pretty shaken up. He refused to look Soda in the eye.

"Easy, Ponyboy. They ain't gonna hurt you no more." Soda put his hand on Ponyboys shoulder.

"I know." Tears ran down Ponyboys cheeks. "I'm just a little spooked, that's all."

"I would be too," I told him, trying to make him feel better. Pony looked over at me and gave me a soft smile.

"You're an okay kid, Pony." Soda rubbed Pony's hair around.

"You're crazy, Soda, outta your mind." Ponyboy grinned.

"You're both nuts," Darry joked.

"It seems to run in the family." Soda co*cked his eyebrow like Two-Bit does. Darry cracked a rare smile.

Once the Socs left, the other guys came over to make sure Pony was all right. Two-Bit was grabbing rocks from the ground and hurling them in the direction of the Socs car that sped down the road, and Steve was tending to his own bloody nose. Dally was walking over to us and he kept looking over his shoulder and spitting out his favorite curse words as if the Socs could hear him. I was actually surprised to see him, last I heard he was in jail.

"Didya catch em?" Ponyboy asked when they came over to us.

"No. They got away this time, those dirty—" Two-Bit called them every name in the book. Even names that I've never heard of before.

"The kid's okay?" Dally asked as he walked over to us.

"I'm okay," Ponyboy said. "I didn't know that you were out of the cooler yet, Dally."

I nearly forgot that Dally went to jail for stealing a motorcycle. He usually runs off for a few days, even weeks at a time and comes back with wild stories of being in the slammer or whatever wild thing he was up to. I usually look forward to hearing about them just because they are so unhinged.

"Good behavior. Got off early." Dally lit a cigarette and passed it around. We all sat in a circle-like shape and everyone was smoking. I still stayed away from cigarettes, they're still terrible and I didn't want to get addicted. I've fought off the peer pressure this long. The cigarette was calming Ponyboy down.

"Who let you out?" I asked Dally.

"What a punk, huh?" Dally chuckled.

"How was it?" I asked him as I slowly stood up.

"Just like summer camp," he chuckled.

"Don't go postal on us again," I told him.

Dally's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he let out a puff of smoke. "I ain't been to the post office? What the hell are you talkin' about?"

Before I could explain the term that apparently originated after 1965, Two interrupted me. Good thing he did, because I did not realize how that slang term was ahead of their time.

"Nice looking bruise you got there, kid." Two-Bit pointed out the black and blue circle on Ponyboys face.

"Really?" Ponyboy reached up to touch it.

"Nice cut too, makes you look tuff."

"What were you doin', walking by your lonesome?" Steve asked cynically. Steve isn't a dreamer, he is very practical. I can see why he didn't get along very well with Pony.

"I just wasn't thinking—"

"You don't ever think," Darry blurted. He went on this long spiel about how Ponyboy never used his head and Darry criticized how Ponyboy should have been walking with someone, or even with a knife. They call knives 'blades'. I still find that odd, but understandable.

"Leave my kid brother alone, you hear?" Soda stood up for Pony. Soda is the only person who can stand up to Darry without getting yelled at. I've gotten my fair share of lectures from Darry, especially after trying to defend Pony. I just try to explain that he is a sensitive person but Darry usually hits me with the fact that it is none of my concern because I have no business being there in the first place. He's right, but it's brutal.

Ponyboy is quiet, and quite introverted. You'd think he's observant, but he's always sort of lost in his own world and he gets this far away look in his eye. While Pony is imaginative and thoughtful, Darry is practical, judgmental, and stubborn. Darry isn't very understanding and can be rather insensitive towards Pony, and their personalities clash. Soda and I end up being the mediators.

Dally invited everyone to go to the Nightly Double with him tomorrow night. He said they're playing some beach type of movies for a double feature, but he wasn't actually going to watch the movies. Steve said that he and Soda are going to pick up their girlfriends and take them to a game of some kind. Then Darry said he was working.

"How about y'all? Two-Bit? Bri? Johnnycake? Pony? Wanna come?" Dally asked, accidentally blowing smoke in Johnny's face.

"Yeah, I can come," I said. Then I chuckled and asked, "you wanna watch Frankie Avalon prancing around on a beach all night?"

"No, no, no, no. I'm gonna go hunt some action," Dally stated.

"We will come too," Ponyboy said for himself and Johnny. Johnny didn't really like to talk much anymore.

"I was plannin' on getting boozed up tomorrow night, but if I don't, I will find y'all," Two Bit said.

This felt like déjà vu...

"You break up with Sylvia again?" Steve asked Dally.

"Yep. This time for good. She was two-timing me when I was in jail. Again." He took a puff of his cigarette and tapped the ashes off.

Sylvia was Dally's on again off again girlfriend. She kept cheating on him. Especially when he went to jail. He kept cheating on her, whenever he felt like it. I call him a man-whor* affectionately. They were both toxic for each other, but somehow they always find their way back together. I'm not quite sure why he stays with her. Maybe it's because she's as crazy as he is. I think she just uses Dally, she doesn't actually care about him and I don't think he cares about her.

I never cared for Sylvia. The only times I've been with her was with Dally. And shereallydidn't like me. She was always rude to us, especially me, and it would really piss off Dally. Even Soda has gotten me out of the house because Sylvia was coming. Dally stopped bringing her around, probably has something to do with the fact that she would accuse Dally of cheating on her with me which has been the reason for at least five of their breakups.

Even Sandy didn't like me. I met her a few times during the summer. The first time she was a total bitch, but after that she was sweet and quiet, but Pony told me that she asked Soda to stop hanging out with me. He told me that Soda had explained the situation, but Sandy wasn't buying it. She didn't really ever talk to me when she was with the gang, probably because she didn't really like me. But she always smiled and wasn't outwardly rude after that first encounter. To be fair, I didn't really like her either.

It hurts me to see Sandy treat Soda the way that she does. If I had Soda, I would never even think about being unfaithful to him. I'm not sure if he just loves her so much that he is too blind to see that she is toying him around. I don't think she ever loved him, and she never will.

I really liked Evie though. She was super nice and she would invite me out for lunch just so I had some girl-time away from the guys which rarely happened. She has short, curly brown hair and big gray eyes. She has a big heart and cares about Steve deeply, and it shows.

We came back to the Curtis house in the dark. Johnny, Steve, and Dally went to their own houses that were nearby. Johnny was always at the Curtis house because his parents are pretty neglectful and abusive. They make us mad as hell, so Darry let's Johnny crash on the couch whenever he can.

I was with Two-Bit watching Mickey and we were sharing a slice of chocolate cake on the couch. It took lots of time and trust to get to this level of friendship with him. There was a half finished puzzle on the coffee table that Darry had been working on earlier. He loves puzzles.

Soda was giving Darry a back massage. Darry was always pulling muscles at work. I couldn't imagine that kind of pain then having to go back the next day and do it all over again. I've tried to give him massages if Soda is at work late, but I don't think my hands are strong enough to really dig deep in his knots.

"Rub harder, Soda," Darry mumbled.

Darry not only provided for his brothers, but he also provided for the entire gang. For me. And he's really just a kid himself. He's only twenty years old. I'll forever be grateful for him and his sacrifices.

Throughout my time here, I have been giving the house a more feminine touch so it didn't look so much like a bachelor pad anymore. I helped the guys pick out some family photos to frame for the walls, so they have more photographs of their parents, and I found an old vase under the sink so I put it on the table and started buying flowers for it weekly. I also bought throw pillows to jazz up the living room sofa, but one of them was ripped apart when Steve decided to abuse Two-Bit with it. The seams busted and the cotton stuffing went everywhere.

Ponyboy went into the bathroom without closing the door. I gave him some Vaseline to put on the cut that was on his face, and Darry made him put a Band-Aid over it. It really lowered his tuffness and his self-esteem.

It started getting pretty late, and we all went off to bed. As I brushed my teeth, I tried to think about what I went through today and why it seemed so familiar. After I spit my mouthwash out, I looked myself in the eyes of the mirror and I figured it out.

I lived through the first chapter ofThe Outsiders.

Chapter 9: The Slap

Chapter Text

Now I really wish I brought the book with me. I needed to know exactly what is supposed to happen, and how it happens. I don't want to change the story too much, so I have to know what not to do. I haven't read the book in years, so I was a little rusty on the exact events of the novel.

I almost felt like a psychic. I was planning on living through the events of the book, while doing the least amount of damage as possible. I'm just really scared of screwing up the space-time continuum. There are many movies that prove that is a very bad thing.

Every chance I got, I always went back to the field and tried to find little parts from the Time Machine that fell off. When I collected them, I put them back in the car and tinkered with them, trying to get them to fit and work. I'm still missing a lot of parts so it hasn't worked yet. I need a metal detector or something.

Since I've been here for a few months, I was starting to get a little homesick. The culture shock was greater than I was expecting. As a way to make myself feel more at home, I made the room that Soda gave me feel more likemyroom. I found a cheap full length mirror I put up against the wall, and I got myself new white bedsheets with a white comforter. My pillows have a feminine floral print, and I got a lamp for the bedside table and another in the corner of the room. I put up some photos and posters that Soda had lying around, and some that I have collected over the past few months of bands and singers or actors I liked. I put down a nice shag rug over the old carpet, which was now littered with magazines of Vogue with photos and articles of Twiggy, Jean Shrimpton, and Sharon Tate, a record player, and some records. I keep going to little stores in town and finding cute little knickknacks, so Darry helped me with putting up shelves in my room for them. I have a few colorful throw blankets to bring some color into the room, and I use Soda's old school desk as a vanity, where I keep my makeup, skin care, a small mirror, and perfume.

Skin care here in the 60s is not nearly as complex as it is in my time. Moisturizer doesn't even exist. I went scavenging up and down the isles of different stores just trying to find something that would help my dry skin, and that's when I found out that face cream was the closest I was going to find. I tried Nivea, but it made my face sting. Dove Beauty Bar is apparently the best thing to cleanse skin, and I cannot find any sunscreen that would actually block out the sun rays. A friend from school recommended Pond's Cold Cream at night, and Albolene cleanser to take off makeup. Don't get me started on deodorant, it is not used nearly as much as it should. I started getting Sno-Mist, and it smells like roses. My skin tends to get really dry so I use Palmer's Coco Butter Cream for my arms and legs, which is perfect because I used this a lot back in my time. And of course, Vaseline. I always love finding products that I actually recognize and I have used it before.

Finding makeup too has been a pain. There really aren't very many options, so I have just been using a cream Angel Face foundation that comes in a Tiffany blue packaging, a shade of blush from Revlon called Clear Red, powder, mascara and lipstick. I put the rouge up on the high points of my cheeks, because no one has bronzer or even highlight yet. I have to put everything on with my hand, brushes and sponges are practically nonexistent. For powder, I use a translucent one from Airspun, only because I recognized the orange package. I have definitely seen this at the store in my time. The best mascara I could find was from Maybelline. It comes in a small, red plastic case with a sliding lid. Inside is a tray of hard black cake mascara and a small brush with one row of black bristles. Some people spit on the brush, but I just use tap water to activate the mascara. I used a spoon to curl my lashes before I could get my hands on an eyelash curler, and I have been using a brown eyebrow pencil to line my eyes, either with a subtle thin wing or using my finger to smudge it out. Most of the greaser girls wear a thick black cat eye wing, but I didn't really like the way it looked with my downturned eye shape. My eyebrows are already dark and thick, so I don't fill them in but a lot of girls at school will have high arches from filling in their brows. I got the Revlon Fire and Ice lipstick, I think it's cool because it comes in a gold toned metal tube, in the bullet style. A lot of girls will wear it thickly, but that's not really my style. I just rub a little lipstick on my finger and I dab it on my lips for a more natural flush. I'm more of a natural makeup girly, which greatly differs from the actual greaser girls in town. Their style reminds me of Amy Winehouse.

Johnny met me and Ponyboy at the Curtis house. I slipped on some baggy jeans with some dirty black converse, a black t-shirt, and threw on a light grey sweatshirt that I stole from Soda as I was heading out to door to catch up with the guys. At school I think I tend to dress as a Soc since girls are required to swear skirts and dresses. Greaser girl outfits aretight.

I've got a black pinafore dress that I usually wear with square-toe wine ballet flats; a cream sweater with a matching skirt; and a light blue peacoat where my skirts hang just before the hem. A lot of girls, when they're out around town and not at school, will wear petal-pushers, or what I would call Capri pants. I do not think they're flattering on me so I have avoided them. But at home, I like to dress as one of the guys with frumpy jeans and oversized shirts or pull-over sweaters. I once kept my nicer school clothes on for one day and they wouldn't stop teasing me about it. They said I looked like a Soc, or would ask if I was meeting the president later. Then, I wore my more relaxed greaser style clothes to school one day and got dress coded with every class. I can't win.

"Hurry up, Bri. We are gonna be late," Ponyboy shouted. They were a lot farther ahead of me than I thought. We didn't take my car because I didn't have enough gas and I didn't want to get any tonight.

I ended up returning the rental car and bought an actual car. I have loved working with Soda at the DX. It's been fun, I get to spend more time with him and I get paid for it.

I jogged to catch up with them. Dally met us on a street corner under a dim street light, right outside a diner. It was still pretty early so the sun was still out. I could hear an Elvis song playing from the diner.

I thought, I could live without romance,
U-u-until you came to me,
But now I know that,
I will go on,
Loving you eternally.

"What took y'all so long?" Dally asked. He was smoking a cigarette and blew the smoke into the crisp air.

"Little-miss-slow-poke here was doing her hair," Ponyboy snitched.

"Um,no," I said sarcastically. I ran my fingers through my slightly tousled hair to mess it up a little more to subconsciously prove that I didn't care how my hair looked. "I was putting on my shoes."

Won't you please be my own?
Never leave me alone,
'Cause I die ev'ry time,
We're apart.

I want you, I need you, I-I love you,
With all my heart

"Relax, kid." Dally blew smoke in Ponyboys face, causing him to cough. "We gotta go."

We made our way to The Nightly Double, passing a drugstore. It's one of those stores with the soda fountains inside where soda jerks make all kinds of sodas, floats, milkshakes, lemonades, malts, sundaes, and even banana splits. We don't have anything like this in 2017, but I love them. They're so cute and the desserts are amazing.

"If y'all would have been on time, I woulda suggested that we go in there to get co*kes." Dally nodded toward the drugstore as he continued to strut down the sidewalk with an effortless swagger. I swear, Dally doesn't walk. He struts with a little bounce.

"Get or steal?" I joked.

"What do you think, darlin'?" Dally winked and flashed his crooked smile.

I blushed softly and chuckled while shaking my head. For the past few months I've gotten along pretty well with Dally, I can read him like a book despite him being unpredictable. In fact, I wasn't expecting us to become friends at all. I had a preconceived notion that he was an asshole, so I tried to stay away from him but soon realized that it was impossible.

We kept walking until we passed The Dingo. I didn't really care for it, but it was one of Dally's favorite places. He's dragged me in there a few times after I went that one time with Soda. It's just a popular hangout for greasers, and it's a rough spot. Pony told me that a girl got shot there once. We kept him distracted so he wouldn't look at it and change his mind on the kind of night we were going to have.

We cut behind a discount store called Spencer's Special and the guys chased two middle school kids across a field. I ran after the boys so I didn't get left behind. When they finally slowed down, it was pretty dark. Dally said that it's dark enough to sneak in.

"I have enough money for us," I stated, I took out my wallet and palmed a few quarters.

"You can do that if you want, doll. The rest of us are gonna go in the faster way. We'll be sure to save you a seat." Dally flicked his cigarette to the ground that landed by my feet and he came up close to step on it. Both of us lifted our heads at the same time, just inches away from each other. He let the smoke escape from between his lips as he smirked at me. His electric blue eyes that were always cold as ice seemed to soften just a bit when his eyes were locked to mine.

"Fine. We will do it your way," I agreed hesitantly. I broke our eye contact and headed to the fence.

Dally is a hound dog. He might be trying to snoop around my door, but I can see through that. Dally is clever, but I'm a little too savvy for him to be able to use his typical ruse on me. Besides, he's not my type.

I have seen Dally whistle at girls from across the street, cat-call nearly every girl he saw, and even make lewd comments about their appearance when they didn't accept his advances. Ponyboy one time tried to harass a girl just like Dally, and Soda smacked him upside the head for it. Two was flipping girls skirts, Steve used to pinch girls butts as they walk past, and he even went as far as unclasping their bra at an impressive speed. Even Johnny did some catcalling, but only when he was around Dally. I definitely expressed my anger toward the terrible habit of theirs, and at first they brushed me off and said that I couldn't take a joke. But it wasn't until some guy grabbed my ass while we were all walking down the street just before summer started, and all the guys immediately jumped him and they had a big fight in the middle of the street. I haven't seen them harass anyone since. Soda and Darry were really the only members of the gang who I never saw harass a girl.

"I dig it. Need a lift?"

"Sure," I blurted.

The chain link fence is pretty high. It is a pain in the ass to climb, so Dally stood beside me and he placed his hands on my waist. My breath caught in my throat while I gripped the fence tightly, making the metal rattle together.

"You ready?" Dally asked by my ear.

"I'm ready."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

His grip on my waist got tighter just before he threw me up as hard as he could. Whenever he helps me over the fence, he literally tosses me clear over the fence. I never have a chance to situate myself on top so I can just easily climb down to the ground. The fence is taller than Dally, so I free-fell to the ground and make sure I landed on my feet. My knees will never get used to that drop.

Dally hopped the fence and waited beside me as we watched Pony and Johnny make their way over the tall fence. Dally's leg was shaking impatiently, and then he looked at me and asked, "what movies are they playin' here tonight again?"

"The Frankie Avalon beach ones."

"What are they called?"

"No idea."

His blonde eyebrows scrunched over his eyes. "You don't know but you wanted to go to the picture anyway?"

"Yeah, I like the drive-in. I had never been to one before this."

"Boy howdy, I keep forgettin' you ain't from around here. You didn't wanna go to The Dingo tonight?"

"I never wanna go to The Dingo," I chuckled. Once Pony and Johnny were over the fence, Dally started walking to the section of the drive-in with provided seating that's in front of the concession stands.

"Never? Boy, oh, boy, you've broke me, Brianna."

I laughed at his dramatics. "It's scary in there."

"Nah, you don't gotta worry about it. I ain't never gonna let nothin' happen to ya in there. Listen, next time let's you and me take your car here. Since you ain't done it before."

"And watch the movie from my car?"

"Yeah, why not."

I smiled softly. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Dally nodded and smiled, which showed off his high cheekbones. Dally walked down to the front of the seating while me, Pony, and Johnny followed. Nobody else was down there except two girls in the very front. Dally led us to the row right behind them

"Did you see the way Dally looked at them? I think he is going to mess them 'em," Pony whispered to me.

"Huh, didn't notice," I whispered back. I thought a little bit, and understood what he was talking about. "We should probably stop him before he goes too far."

"Are you kidding? I'll get slapped."

We shimmed through the chairs and we sat directly behind the two girls. I saw them squirm in their seats a bit, which made Dally's face brighten.

Dally started talking very loudly. People a mile away could hear his dirty talk. I saw Ponyboy's ears get red when Dally started talking dirtier. Johnny immediately got up to go to the concession stand. Ponyboy just sat there and tried not to pay attention, I tried not to either. It was hard though, he was nearly shouting swear words and horrible phrases. Bad enough that my grandma would faint if she ever heard me talking like that. The two girls looked uncomfortable. They were shifting in their seats and pretended not to hear Dally. He put a cigarette between his lips and struck a match to light it.

One had short dark hair, and the other had red hair. I believe that their names are Marcia and Cherry, or Sherri... something like that. I remember that Marcia was pretty funny and got along well with Two-Bit, and the other was dating Bob Sheldon. Dally got pissed that they weren't responding to him, and put his feet on the back of Sherri's seat. He turned to wink at us, and shouted one more nasty thing that topped off everything else he said.

Sherri snapped and turned around. "Take your feet off my chair and shut your trap."

"Who's gonna make me?" Dally kept his feet on her chair.

"That's the greaser that jockeys for the Slash J sometimes," Marcia said slightly softly, but loud enough for us all to hear. Ponyboy looked annoyed.

"I know you two. I've seen you around rodeos," Dally pointed out.

Now it was my turn for my face to get red. I recognized these lines from the book. I really didn't want to interfere, I was planning on keeping my distance and letting the plot play its course.

"It's a shame you can't ride bull half as good as you can talk it," Sherri replied coldly, trying to sound intimidating.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, good one!" I thought sarcastically.

"You two barrel race, huh?" Dally asked.

"You'd better leave us alone or I'll call the cops," Sherri warned.

"Oh, my, my. You've got me scared to death." Dally acted like he was bored. "You ought to see my record sometime, baby." He grinned slyly and winked. "Guess what I've been in for?"

"Please leave us alone," Sherri nearly yelled. "Please, be nice and leave us alone."

"I'm never nice. What a co*ke?"

Ponyboy and I just sat there. Ponyboy looked flushed and embarrassed. We didn't really know what to do. All I knew was that he was going to be drenched in co*ke pretty soon.

"I wouldn't drink it if I was starving in the desert. Get lost hood!"

Dally shrugged and went off toward the snack bar.

"co*ke would dehydrate her more than anything," Pony whispered to me.

"What was that?" She spun around to face us.

Pony's eyes were wide and his lips quivered slightly. I finally spoke up so he didn't have to, "we weren't talking to you."

"Yes, you were. I heard you."

"It is none of your business."

"It is if it concerns me."

"Not everything is about you."

"I know you were talking about me."

"Fine.Isaidthat co*ke would dehydrate you even more if you were in the desert. Plus, you wouldn't be starving, you'd be parched."

"And you are?" Sherri looked toward me and glared. What was her problem?

Before I could say anything snarky back, Marcia leaned over to her and said in a loud whisper, "she's that new girl that came in the spring."

"Shut up," Sherri hissed back at her. I had to suppress my chuckle.

"She wore that one skirt to school, then we went out and you got the same one. Remember?"

"Shutup, Marcia," Sherri spat through her clenched teeth.

Marcia slumped back into her chair, and looked down at her hands while Sherri cleared her throat. She was probably hoping and begging that I didn't hear that, but I heard every word. This is so awkward for her.

"Oh, so youhaveheard of me," I stated immodestly. I grinned cunningly. I just wanted to watch her little world burn, just a little bit.

"I'm Sherri, but people all call me Cherry because of my red hair. I am a cheerleader at Will Rogers. How have younotheard of me? Do you live under a rock or something?"

I shrugged and said, "maybe it's because I don't care who you are."

While Sherri's face was warping into an expression of offended disgust, Marcia was clearly trying not to laugh which made Sherri even angrier. I stood up and quickly went off and followed Dally.

"Are you going to start in on us?" I heard her say to Ponyboy just as I was leaving. I didn't look back, and I caught up to Dally.

"Are you going to get her a co*ke?" I asked him.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" He asked. He took a few coins out of his leather jacket.

"Just a hunch," I lied. I looked away for a split second to compose myself after smiling. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Why not? It'll just push her buttons." He cackled and we stepped into line.

"That's the problem. I bet she will throw it in your face... or something." I tried to be nonchalant, but also warning him. I guess it's not a big deal, but it still sucks to have to take off a co*ke soaked shirt. I admired and respected Dally enough to save him from these little things.

"Why you so skeptical?" He laughed and the line for the concession stand got shorter.

"Just trying to watch out for you." I cleared my throat. "That's all."

Dally's head is as hard as rocks. He's stubborn, and once he sets his mind to something there is nothing that can change it. Not even me. He just doesn't care.

"What can I get ya?" A peppy teenage kid smiled at me and Dally when we got to the counter.

"Two co*kes— wait." Dally turned to me. "You want one?"

"Yeah, sure." I reached to my pocket to grab my money, and I guess I do this a lot when someone is going to buy something for me because he caught my hand with his to stop me.

"Three co*kes." He handed the girl his money and released my hand. She came back with an armful of sodas. Dally took two and I took one.

"I will pay you back," I said.

"Nah, don't worry about it." He waved it off.

We got back to the row and Johnny was back with his own soda. I didn't see him but we must have crossed paths. I sat next to Johnny and Dally went down to the next row to sit next to Sherri.

"This might cool you off," he said after handing each girl their soda.

Sherri tossed the lid to the ground and threw the co*ke in his face. "That might cool you off, Greaser. After you wash your mouth and learn to talk and act decent, I might cool off too."

"Oh, sh*t," I mumbled after my gasp. I covered my mouth with my hand, and made eye contact with Pony. He shot a fearful look at me with his eyes, then we both looked back at the car wreck that was unfolding before us.

Dally wiped the co*ke off of his face and spit out whatever got past his lips. He flashed an evil smile that showcased his sharp teeth. Then it turned to confusion. Dally looked at me puzzled and I looked away, taking a sip of my soda and running my fingers through my hair. He must have wondered why I knew Sherri was going to throw her co*ke in his face. When I looked back, he was trying to put his arm around her. "Fiery, huh? Well, that's the way I like 'em."

Johnny stopped Dally's arm from wrapping around Sherri.

"Leave her alone Dally," Johnny spoke up.

"Huh?" Dally asked. We were all surprised. Johnny rarely talked to anyone anymore. Especially doing something as brave as standing up to Dally.

"You heard me, leave her alone," Johnny repeated. That took major guts. I would not even do that. Ponyboy just sat there with his mouth agape. Dally just stormed off, with his hands shoved in his jean pockets.

Johnny and Ponyboy seemed rather smitten by the girls. I don't know why. I remember during the summer we went to a rodeo and Ponyboy pointed Cherry out to us before her race, he has probably liked her since then. I think Two-Bit was going to be coming by soon, so I didn't really feel like staying. I shot up and ran after Dally. I could hear the ice in my soda cup sloshing around with each stride.

It was probably a bad idea, because Dally needed to cool off. But I didn't care, he has always been kinda fond of me. He has never yelled or gotten mad at me before. I really didn't think Dally would be too bad toward me, but I didn't want to push it.

"Bri!" I heard. I stopped and looked over to where I heard my name. The soft wind was blowing my dark hair in front of my face, so I ran my fingers through it to push it back. It was Two-Bit. He had a big grin on his face, and a beer bottle in his hand that he tried to mask with a crinkled up brown paper bag. I'm not quite sure who he thought he was fooling. He ran over to me, stumbling over his own feet. "How're you doing, darling?"

"Hey, I didn't think you were coming tonight."

"I am. I did. I'm'ere," he replied and took a swig of his drink.

I laughed, "okay."

"D'you want some popcorn? Or some candy? They got Milk Duds, red licorice twists, those chocolate covered peanuts, M&Ms... whatever you want. I'm buying."

Two-Bit is a kleptomaniac. He is really sweet and enjoys paying stuff for us, because he saves money from being a kleptomaniac.

"That's okay, thanks though."

"Where's the gang?" He asked, glancing around. He is always friendly, outgoing, and enthusiastic but even more so when he drinks.

"Over there." I gestured over to the front of the seats. "It's just Pony and Johnny."

Two came up behind me and put both of his hands on my shoulders. He dipped his head down beside mine, I could smell the beer on his breath, and the bottle was resting against my shoulder with its neck between Two's fingers. He asked again, "where? Sorry, I'm a little soused."

I chuckled and pointed over to where Ponyboy and Johnny were sitting, and I noticed that they were still talking to the girls. "Right over there, do you see them?"

It took a moment but Two finally saw them and he stood up straight and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. He asked, "you coming?"

"I was just over there, I think I'm going to head home," I told him.

"Why?" He asked. "I just got here!"

I smiled softly and promised, "I'll come back again soon with you. Okay?"

Two smiled and giggled. "Oh, Brianna. You dog."

Two then grabbed my hand and spun me out of his arms. He gave me a drunken bow, and staggered off to go annoy Ponyboy and Johnny.

Now that Two was heading off on his own quest, I went back to running after Dally. By the time I almost caught up to him, he was already on the other side of the parking lot.

"Hey, Dally!" I called out as I tossed my half-finished soda in the garbage. He slowed down but didn't turn around. His hands were still in his pockets and a new cigarette was dangling in between his lips.

"How'd you know?" He asked when I got up to him, looking down at the ground.

"How did I know what?" I mimicked him by shoving my hands in the pockets of my grey sweatshirt.

"That Sherri was gonna throw that co*ke in my face. You know her or somethin'?"

"Nope. Never met her before in my life. Just a hunch."

"Some sort of mind reader, are ya?"

"Nope."

"I should've listened to you, she did not have the hots for me," he chuckled.

"You liked her?" I asked, kinda stunned.

"Not really. Just fun to mess with stuck-up bitches." He kicked a pebble. "It sucks when they fight back."

"Yeah, it is kinda fun." I smiled softly. "So, you and Sylvia are done for good, huh?"

"Yup. I'm not goin' to be taking any more of her sh*t." He struck a light to his cigarette and offered me one. I kindly refused. "I've known you for a few months now, and not once have I ever seen you take a weed." He threw the empty cigarette pack on the ground.

"Never been a smoker. My parents don't smoke either." I tried my best to never talk aboutmy parentsbecause I didn't want to be questioned why I wasn't with them. My real parents are amazing. They are the kindest, and funniest people I've ever met. I get along with them so well. Everyone who meets them says that they want them to be their parents. It was really hard to even lie, saying my parents are neglectful. I tried to ignore it as much as possible.

I missed my parents so much. I really wanted to go back home.

"And its bad for your health," I added.

"It's bad for your heath," he mocked in a high pitched voice. "Y'know, no one 'round here gives a f*ck if it's bad for your health." He carefully held the cigarette between his fingers so it wasn't too stiff, but also not too loose. He always holds his smokes in his left hand. He has had practice. "You don't drink either, do ya?"

"It's disgusting." I made a face which made Dally laugh.

"I guess everyone's got a preference. But I like it. I like the way it makes me feel. I get to do whatever I want and nothin' really matters. It makes me numb and I don't care about nothing. Everythin' kinda just goes away. It quiets my thoughts. Everybody has their vices, life is bleak and everyday existence is so f*cking depressing." He flicked some ashes onto the ground.

Our lighthearted conversation made a rather depressing turn. What do I say to that? I could try to reason with him but he wouldn't listen to me. Or he would but just wouldn't care. Dally does drink a lot. He blacks out a lot. He drinks so much that he needs someone to take care of him so he doesn't hurt himself or others, and that person usually ends up being me. He self-medicates because he needs an escape. He's pretty messed up. Before me, I don't know how he survived up to this point. He has passed out drunk on train tracks before. I know that because one morning he came stumbling into the Curtis house with a hangover while I was trying to watch TV and he told me.

"Wanna go to the drugstore? I'm really feeling like a candy bar right now." I took my hands out of my pockets and readjusted my unzipped hoodie.

"I'm feeling one too," he agreed.

We took a shortcut through some backyards to get to the drugstore. It was a pretty sketchy place at night. Dally made me feel much safer than if I was alone. He was scarier than anything or anyone we were going to cross paths with. Trouble is his middle name. I am certain that he has at least three weapons on him at all times. Sometimes his jeans will come up enough that I can see the bottom of a hunting knife he has strapped to his ankle, but I have never seen him reach for it before.

We went into the drug store and it was flooding with fluorescent light, it made my eyes burn. There was only the guy at the counter, and us. We went to the candy aisle and I grabbed some butterscotch candies and a chocolate bar while Dally grabbed a chocolate bar with the crisped rice, a package of peppermint gum, he shoved some beer cans in his massive pockets, and I distracted the store clerk coyly while he stole two packs of Kools from behind the counter and hid them all under his jacket.

"What are you doing?" I let out a breathy giggle and he grabbed my candies and shoved them under the jacket too. Dally stood perfectly poised, it didn't look like a single thing was under his loose brown suede leather jacket.

"Shh." He put his finger to his lips and he strolled out, suspiciously whistling. The guy at the counter didn't even notice us leaving. When we left, Dally gave me my share of the candies and I tore them open. I was starving.

"I don't think I've ever actually been with the famous Dallas Winston while stealing," I announced while sucking on a butterscotch candy.

"Really? This was your first time?" He seemed surprised.

"Usually I just wait outside until you are all done." I shrugged. Honestly, I'm just a little afraid of getting arrested and never being able to go back home. "Don't need that on my record."

"Lame." He swallowed most of his candy bar in one bite.

"Hey, at least I did it tonight!" I giggled. Even though I really didn't do anything. All I did was stand there and look pretty.

"I grabbed you this." He handed me a glass bottle of co*ke. I didn't even see him take it. He is really good at stealing.

"Wow, thanks," I said in my surprise. I took the bottle and wrapped my hand around the lid, expecting it to twist off easily. The metal rim was digging into my palm, making me grimace while shaking my throbbing hand out.

"Give it to me, let me do it." Dally took the bottle from my hand and used his Swiss Army knife to pop the top. He silently handed it back to me, along with the bottle cap. "Here, Two's gonna want this."

"Yeah, you're right. Thanks," I said. I slipped the bottle cap in my jean pocket, making sure the ridges weren't pressing against my skin. Two likes to collect bottle caps from beer bottles and soda bottles so we always keep them for him.

I took a gulp of the cold beverage, actively trying not to choke on the butterscotch I had hidden in my cheek.

"Can I have one, honey?" He asked smoothly, holding his hand out.

"Yeah." I plopped one of the candies in his palm.

"Thanks, darling," he said as he used his teeth to twist the cellophane off the candy and stuck it between his lips.

I finished my soda and we just so happened to pass a garbage can that was on the sidewalk. I stuck the bottle in it so I didn't have to carry it all the way home. Dally probably would have thrown it as hard as he could against a tree trunk and let the glass explode everywhere.

We walked past a playground park, with tall horizontally placed logs to keep the wood chips and rocks in the park. I jumped up into the tall log and walked on it like a balance beam. I kept my arms by my sides to keep my balance in order on the slippery wood with the rounded top. Dally took my hand, claiming it was because he didn't want me to fall.

"What time did you say you have to be back at the Curtis's house?" He asked. He squeezed my hand gently, which made me squeeze it back. His thumb gently rubbed against the back of my hand, I don't even know if Dally knew he was doing that.

"I think Darry told Ponyboy midnight. Since he isn't my brother, I'm sure I can be out later."

"We better stick with midnight. He really cares about you, kid," Dally said. I didn't really like when the gang members called mekid. Sure I'm the newest, but I'm technically older than Soda and they don't call himkid.

Dally ate the rest of his candy bar and tossed the wrapper on the street.

"Yeah. It scares me when Darry's mad. I don't want to disappoint him." I broke up the butterscotch candy that was in my mouth with my teeth.

"Yeah." Dally blew rings of smoke into the air.

"You agree?" I was caught a little off guard. I thought he was going to call me a wimp or something. "Big, mean, I-can-do-whatever-the-f*ck-I-want, Dallas Winston? You think Darry is scary?"

"You haven't known him as long as I have. He wasn't always like this. All controlling and angry. He used to be real fun back when his folks were still around. He used to get along real fine with Pony, and he'd bring me along to his college parties and we'd just get hammered together. When they died, he had to give up everything and he grew up far too fast, ditching the Fun Darry we all used to know." He flicked more ashes onto the ground.

"How did you become a part of their gang?" I asked.

"I met Steve in school, and he introduced me to the Curtis's. Their mama was real sweet to me and would make me come over for dinner a lot. I never left, I guess."

"Are you friends with Tim?"

"Shepard? Yeah."

"How come you don't go around with that gang?"

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, they're a lot tougher. And more violent. I'm just wondering how you got with our guys."

He thought for a second then said, "I don't know. Guess it's because I felt... god, I don't know, man."

"You felt like you belonged?" I didn't want to speak for him, but I had a feeling this was what he wanted to say.

"Yeah. Somethin' like that," he said in a low voice.

The Curtis gang is definitely a tight-knit group. They're closer than any other gang I've met in Tulsa. They may not be the most violent or the best gang out there, but they are definitely the only one that actually feels like they're all a big family. Maybe that's why Dally was here, this gang feels more like a family and Dally needed that.

I stepped on a slick part of the log and my foot slipped. I was able to catch myself and avoid falling from the log but it made Dally grip my hand tighter and freeze in his footsteps. "Will you get the f*ck off of there? f*ck, Bri. You're gonna break your ankle."

"I'm not gonna break my ankle," I said as I continued walking with one foot in front of the other. My thumb brushed an indent on Dally's knuckles so I stopped walking for a moment to bring his hand up to my face. He was confused until I kept walking and asked, "what's that?"

He took a glance at his own hand and a smirk pulled at his pale lips. "Teeth marks. After beating guys up in rumbles, them teeth marks will scar. Been there for God knows how long."

I couldn't believe that Dally had scars on his knuckles left from how hard he punches people. I could imagine after rumbles he has to pluck teeth out from his hand and flick them to the ground, creating jagged cuts in his pale skin.

"Ouch," I shuddered. I had also noticed a small skull tattooed on his hand, between his thumb and index finger. I think he got it last time he went to jail.

"What? Does that scare you, little lady?" He asked jokingly.

"It unnerves me," I replied honestly.

The park ended so I jumped off the large log that I was walking on and nearly missed jumping into a pothole. We heard a crack.

"What the f*ck was that?" He chuckled but continued to squeeze my hand.

"My achilles. I think. Or it was my ankle." I scrunched my face from the little burst of pain. I stood on my good foot and wiggled the one that cracked to get the blood pumping again. Dally was still holding my hand, and he stepped closer to me.

"I told you that you were going to break your ankle."

"I didn't break it."

"It sounded gross," he said, scrunching his face in disgust.

"I'm sure you've heard worse. EvenIhave heard worse." I backed up to sit on the log, letting go of his hand and setting my candies next to me. I slowly rolled my ankle out. Then I stood up, bent my knees a bit and put one foot in front of the other to stretch out my achilles tendon.

"Not coming from you."

"Have you ever broken a bone?" My ankle wasn't broken, but it was a nasty crack. In just a couple seconds I felt good as new. I'm sure it would have broke if I landed in that pothole.

"I broke my nose in a fight before. Well, a few times. What about you?" He asked. We continued to walk home and my ankle felt sore, but not in pain. Don't worry, I didn't forget my candies. I didn't want to eat any more because I wanted to save them.

"I broke my knee because a kid kicked it while we were playing soccer."

"Ah." He didn't seem that impressed. He grabbed one of the beer cans from his pocket and pulled the tab off. He started to chug it.

"Another time, when I was a toddler, my family was playing who's game called Crack the Whip. Have you ever heard of it?"

"Nah."

"Well, it's a game where everyone goes outside and holds hands. One person on one end is thehead of the whipand everyone else is part of thetail. Thehead of the whipstarts to run in all sorts of directions. Everyone else on the tail has to follow them. It's really hard because hands can slip, and there is falling." I explained the game. "I was the last one on the tail and my dad was the one who was running around. I flung off and landed right on my collar bone."

"You broke your collar bone?" That seemed to impress him a little more. I bet that he'd be more intrigued if I broke something in a fight, like he did.

"Yessiree."

"sh*t." He nodded slightly, as if approving. He finished his beer and crunched the can in his strong hand, then he tossed it in the nearby grass. He litters a lot.

"It's so dark," I observed. I wanted to change the subject a bit because I didn't have any more good material.

"That is what happens when the sun goes down," he joked as he grabbed the second beer. He immediately pulled the tab off and started drinking it. He constantly switched between his beer and his cigarette. It got pretty cold here at night now that it was fall. I was glad I wore Soda's sweatshirt tonight.

I fake laughed and I playfully nudged his shoulder with mine. He is fun to hangout with, he doesn't seem very scary and intense if you get to know him and really spend time with him. He's still not a very good person though, he's still an asshole. I don't think that Ponyboy ever really tried that hard to get to know Dally. In the book, it always seemed like Ponyboy was scared of him. Maybe it's because of their age difference. I'm sure I was intimidated by older teenagers when I was his age too.

"You cold?" He asked.

"A little," I said.

Dally stuck the cigarette between his teeth and he shook off his leather jacket. He didn't ask before he put it on my shoulders.

"Oh, it's okay. You don't have to do that," I said even though the warmth of his jacket was very inviting. It wasn't sticky or wet from the co*ke that was dumped on him, but his shirt was still clinging to his strong chest.

"It's okay, I was gettin' toasty in it anyway," he reasoned. His usual expression seems to melt away because he was no longer putting up a bad-boy façade in front of me. It was almost like he could be himself around me.

I smiled softly. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"You're not from Tulsa, right?" I asked as we kept walking.

"Nup." He finished this beer too, and kept with the ritual of crushing the can in his strong hands and throwing it in someone's lawn.

"Where are you from?"

"New York."

"Where in New York?" I asked curiously.

"West side."

"Rough neighborhood?"

Dally chuckled and said, "oh, honey, you wouldn't last a day over there." He spit into the palm of his hand and put his cigarette out that way. He tossed it and grabbed another one from his new carton. He lit it, and twisted the cigarette around his fingers before he stuck it in his mouth. "Man, if cigarettes keep going up in price, I'm going to quit. A quarter a pack is ridiculous."

I chuckled and asked, "you stole those, right?"

He hid his smirk. "Yeah, whatever."

"How'd you get from New York to here?" I asked curiously.

"Well, I was born up in New York but we moved down here to Oklahoma when I was a kid. When my folks got divorced, my old man made me live with my mom. He didn't want me, and neither did she 'cause she just wanted me outta her hair. She even put me in reform school, but it didn't do much good," he recalled with a chuckle. "She never wanted me, so I was just another hungry mouth to feed."

"Oh, damn," I said softly to let him continue his story. I could imagine Dally as a young and innocent kid, just playing in the streets with a runny nose with the cold wind blowing while he had to live with knowing that he wasn't wanted by either of his parents. That can really mess someone up.

That little kid will grow up with hatred in his heart. Hatred toward the world, and toward himself. He is fighting the world alone. I could see that same little boy finishing his story with an unloaded gun in his hand, and face down in the middle of the street.

"I roamed the streets where I learned how to steal and how to fight. I got arrested when I was ten, and I met some kid who called himself Cowboy. He ran one of the toughest gangs on the streets, and he caught a liking to me. We got out around the same time and we sure did have a blast."

"You probably saw and did way too much for a kid your age," I told him, imagining my younger teenage sister now doing the things that Dally did. I couldn't imagine.

Dally shrugged and said, "made me tough. Anyways, I spent about three years up there 'fore my mom had enough and sent me back to my old man. She thought if I were in a smaller town, it would keep me outta trouble. I was too wild for my dad to tame and we never got along good. He would put his cigarettes out on me and he'd holler and scream, so I ran away. Now I run the streets of Tulsa."

It wasn't until after I heard his story, I realized just how everyone in his life had failed him. His father failed him. His mother failed him. His teachers failed him. He was never given the sympathy that he desperately deserved, and all he knew was violence. He deserved to have someone look after him the way he looks after Johnny. All he needed was someone to love and care for him, otherwise he probably wouldn't have grown into the angry young man he is today.

Dally had already told me that he dropped out of school when he was in the sixth grade. He would put tacks on teachers chairs, skip class or show up to school drunk, he would slam heads and hands with locker doors, pee in lockers, and even would bring his blades to school. I think what finally got him expelled was he spiked the punch at some middle school dance and then threatened another kid with his switchblade.

Dally is smart. Certainly street smart. I don't think I would have guessed that he dropped out in middle school. He would have done great if he just applied himself. He is just too cool for school, I suppose.

"Is your dad still around?"

He let out his puff of smoke. "Last I heard he went back up to New York."

I said softly, "you didn't deserve any of that. I'm sorry it happened."

He cleared his throat and said, "eh, what are ya gonna do? I didn't get no say in it."

Dally bottles up his emotions because he thinks he has to bethe tough one. When we talk, he lets out a little bit at a time, like steam escaping from a kettle. I can only hope it's enough before the kettle someday inevitably explodes.

"Thanks for telling me."

"Yeah... now don't go around telling anyone. I don't tell many people."

"I won't, I promise," I promised.

"Swear?"

"I swear."

He stuck out his pinky at me. I chuckled and hooked my pinky to his, promising him that I'd never tell anyone.

"Good." His finger slipped from mine and he took a puff of his cigarette.

We got to an intersection where I assumed we were going to get separated. I'd take a left to head into the neighborhood where the Curtis's and I live, and Dally would keep going straight and head over to Buck's. My walking slowed as I prepared to wish Dally a good-night, but he crossed the street and I had to play catch-up. I asked him, "where are you going?"

He looked back at me strangely. "What do you mean?"

"I just thought you were going to Buck's," I said as I walked beside him again.

"I am."

"Isn't his place that way?" I gestured down the road.

"Yeah, but I'm taking you home first. Can't have you walking by your lonesome, especially since it's so late."

"You don't have to do that," I told him. It was probably another twenty minutes of walking for him just to walk me home.

"I'm gonna anyways."

I smiled small. "Thank you."

"Yeah... whatever." His voice was low and he looked down at his feet as he walked. Then he said, "youknow, when I was a kid, every dime I got went straight to the jukebox. Ever been toIke's?"

"Ike's?" I asked.

"Over byFrank's."

"What'sFrank's?" I asked.

"A hair place."

"No, I haven't."

"Well,Ike'smakes chili and they're pretty damn good if you ever get a chance to head over there. Anyways, they used to have this big jukebox over there and I'd spend hours listening to rock and roll, skipping class but the owner didn't really care as long as I ordered a bowl of chili."

"Where is it?" I asked. I thought I had heard of that restaurant before, but I couldn't tell if I recognized it from the twenty-first century or not.

"Over on Boston."

"I'll have to check it out sometime."

"I can take you, or go with you, if you want," he offered.

I smiled at him warmly. "That would be great, I'd love that."

He grinned sheepishly. "Good."

"Think we would have been friends in school?" I asked curiously.

Dally scoffed and asked, "who said we are friends now?"

I laughed. "I'm serious."

"Well..." he looked at me as he thought long and hard about my question. "I wanna know what you think. Would we?"

"Let's see... you started getting arrested in middle school?"

"Junior high, yeah," he corrected but it's the same thing.

"Then you got expelled?"

"That's right."

"And in that time you were beating up kids and stealing lunch money?" I asked.

He chuckled, "uh-huh."

"Yeah, I don't think we would have been friends."

"No?" He laughed. "What—what are you like in school? Some goody-two-shoes, I'm guessing."

"Yeah, I am a good kid. I am nice, I have great attendance,andI get good grades."

"Oh, you are one ofthosepeople," he said sarcastically and laughed. "I think you're right, we wouldn't have been friends."

"Probably not," I chuckled. Then I asked, "so, you've been arrested a lot?"

"Yeah. Them boys downtown pick me up for nothing."

"What would you say is the dumbest thing you got arrested for?" I asked.

He thought for a second, looking up at the stars as if he was picturing all of his arrests. Then I saw a light flicker in his eyes and he said, "I was at the drive-in. I can't remember who I was with, some little honey I met at the Dingo the night before. We were in Buck's Thunderbird, and we both slipped into the backseat where it gets real nice and dark. I was about to make a move on her, but then some cop was shining a bright light in my eye through the window and he screamed at me, 'out the car, long hair!'."

I chuckled and asked, "why did he do that?"

"He made me get out and the bastard drove me downtown to be questioned about some break-in on the West side. I was there for just about three hours before they finally let me go, and let me tell you I was pissed."

"Did you do it?" I asked.

"Well, yeah, but they didn't know that. They had nothing on me but a hunch. Ended up arresting one of them Brumly Boys. He was in the slammer for six months."

We eventually reached the Curtis house and Dally walked with me up to the front door.

I took off his jacket and politely gave it back to him. As soon as I took it off I felt the cold wind blowing against my arms which prickled goosebumps on my skin. "Thank you."

"It was nothing," he said and slipped the jacket back on himself. I didn't realize just how cold he was until the jacket covered his goosebumps.

"Are you coming inside?" I asked, putting my hand on the handle.

"Nah." He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

I noticed his pale cheeks were red with little spiderwebs just below the surface of the skin. He has a high tolerance for alcohol, but I always know when he's been drinking because his blood vessels open up around his cheeks and nose.

"Alright. Thanks again for walking me home."

"It's nothing," he stated.

"And by the way, I'm glad you're my friend," I told him, referencing our last conversation before we reached the house. It was true, I'm glad that we have become friends. An unlikely duo. "I'll see you later." I turned to put my hand on the handle of the front door.

"Wait."

"Yeah?" I asked, turning to face him.

Dally looked at me with slow blinks and his jaw moved up and down a bit with no words coming out. It was a few seconds of silence, so I looked at him with a puzzled expression. His eyes were cold with all the hatred in the world, but they softened when he looked at me. Dally finally shook his head and said, "never mind."

"Oh, okay," I said softly. Dally seemed... nervous? I didn't understand why. He never got nervous.

Dally hates the world, and it seems like the world hates him back. He never really tried to find the joy in life. He says he's dead inside so he cuts off everyone, even the gang. Sometimes he will go days or even a few weeks without saying a word then pop back into our lives without acknowledging it. We never know if he up and moved in the middle of the night, got arrested, or died. But he always comes back. No matter where he goes or what he does, I know he always keeps in touch with Johnny.

"I'll be at Bucks if you need me." He jabbed his thumb back behind him and walked off.

"Be careful!" I called out to him.

Dally waved his hand up and I heard him say, "yeah, yeah."

I smiled at him kindly as I opened the front door and closed it swiftly behind me. I tried to think what that interaction was about, and I was brought back to reality when I saw that the only people in the living room were Darry and Sodapop.

Soda's face brightened when he saw me. He was sitting on the couch watching a show while Darry was on the recliner. Soda smiled at me and he ran his fingers through his greasy hair.

"Is Ponyboy with you?" Darry asked. He was sitting in his chair reading the paper.

"No. Just me." I kicked my converse off.

"You were walking by yourself?" He raised his voice. I admire how dedicated he is to his brothers, but I didn't want him to feel responsible for me.

"Hell no. I was with Dally. He walked me home." I didn't know why I called this placehome. But it didn't seem to faze the people who actually live here.

"Okay, that's good." Darry settled down. He hated when I walked anywhere by myself. I rarely do since I have a car, but at night I will never walk alone. "Could you turn that porch light on for me?"

I turned around and flicked the porch light on. It was nearly midnight, and Pony wasn't close to home yet. I yawned as I made my way to the couch and I sat down next to Soda while rubbing my tired eyes.

"You guys staying up for Ponyboy?" I asked tiredly.

"Yep." Soda yawned.

"Darry, go easy on Ponyboy. I'm sure he just dozed off somewhere or something. He is fine." I bit the inside of my cheek.

"How could you be so sure?" Darry raised his tone at me. "He could be dead in a ditch somewhere! I told him to be home at midnight and that's final. He needs to learn that he can't pull this kind of crap anymore."

"Okay," I said sheepishly. I felt bad just for bringing it up.

"I'm fixing to bust his head in when he walks through that door," Darry stated.

"Come on, Darry," Soda said.

"I've been running all over hell's half acre, and he's just going on like he don't have a damn care in the world. He's done playing possum, he's gotta own up to this," Darry finished and angrily turned the page of his newspaper.

I'm not much of a person to push something like this. I didn't have any real evidence that Ponyboy was fine in a way that didn't make me sound insane. I turned to Soda and asked, "oh, how was the game?"

"It was fine, nothing special." He shrugged. Normally he gets really into telling me about the game he went to. He gets so invested, if I happen to ask a question about it he goes on a long tangent before going back to the original point. I wondered why this one was different.

I went into my room to grab my phone, which I hid under the pillow. I also put the candy in there, and stopped in the bathroom to wash my face. I came back to the living room and Ponyboy still wasn't home. The moment I sat back down on the soft beige couch I let my body fall so my head was by Soda's lap.

"Here," Soda said softly and he lifted my head up so I could rest my head on his legs, like a pillow. I rolled onto my back and let my legs stretch out over the arm of the couch. I smiled up at Soda and thanked him.

The couch is insanely comfortable. It is so worn in, you just sink into the cushions and it's difficult it get off of it because it's so soft and cozy. Soda put one of his hands on the top of my head and used his strong fingers to massage me gently. It was so relaxing, I closed my eyes and started to drift off. I could feel when Soda finally fell asleep because his hand slowly stopped moving and finally just rested against my head. Darry continued to sit in the arm chair and read the newspaper.

Darry pointed to an article in the paper and spoke up, "I'll tell you one thing, if things keep going the way they are, it's going to be impossible to buy a week's groceries for $20."

I did everything in my power not to make any sort of comment. I can barely buy dinner for less than $20 back home. I know that he is definitely going to be rightfully annoyed in fifty years.

I didn't even notice that I had dozed off. Before I knew it, it was two hours later and I heard the soft sound of the door opening and closing. I rolled my head to the door and saw Ponyboy tip-toe in. Darry looked up from his paper and stood up like a flash of lightning.

"Where the heck have you been? Do you know what time it is?" Darry was super mad.

Ponyboy shook his head, he parted his lips like he wanted to say something but no words came out.

"Well, its two in the morning, kiddo. Another hour and I would have had the police out after you. Where were you, Ponyboy? Where in the almighty universe were you?"

"I... I went to sleep in the lot with Johnny," Ponyboy stammered. I felt like I should do something to stop this, but I didn't know what I could do. The future events kept playing in my mind and I couldn't think of anything I could do that wouldn't get me punched myself, or accidentally exploit the future. Not that they would believe me anyway. I felt helpless.

"Youwhat?" Darry shouted. I'm sure the neighbors could hear. I've never heard Darry so mad. Darry's yelling woke up Sodapop.

"Hey, Ponyboy. Where ya been?" Soda rubbed his eyes sleepily. I carefully sat up so I didn't accidentally hit my head against Soda's. Soda was groggy and confused about what was happening, but it didn't take long for his expression to shift to concern.

"I didn't mean to. I was talking to Johnny and we both dropped off—"

"I reckon it never occurred to you that your brothers might be worrying their heads off and afraid to call the police because something like that could get you two thrown into a boys' home so quick it'd make your head spin." There was the famous Darry line. "And you were asleep in the lot? Ponyboy, what on earth is the matter with you? Can't you use your head? You haven't even got a coat on."

"What's going on?" Soda leaned toward me, still groggy from his two hour nap.

"Darry is pissed that Ponyboy came home late," I whispered to him.

"I hate it when they fight like this. I feel like it is tearing my family apart," Soda whispered back.

"I said I didn't mean to..." I could see tears forming in Ponyboys eyes and starting to sprout onto his red cheeks.

"I didn't mean to!" Darry shouted, it scared everyone. I even saw Sodas eyes widen. "I didn't think! I forgot!That's all I hear out of you! Can't you think of anything?"

"Darry..." Soda and I both said. I knew that Soda was going to say it, and I wanted to try to say it before him. I didn't want him to be yelled at.

"You both keep your traps shut! I'm sick and tired of hearin' both y'all stick up for him!" He snapped.

"Don't you yell at them!" Ponyboy shouted back. I knew what was going to happen next, but it happened so fast I couldn't do anything about it. I tried to stand up to stop Darry, but he spun around so fast. He slapped Ponyboy so hard that it knocked him to the floor.

I gasped and my hands came up to my mouth to try to cover the sound. I backed up until my legs hit the couch but then I froze. The only noise I heard was the buzzing noise of the lights in the house. It was so quiet. Soda and I were both shocked. Soda was up on his feet, but we were both wide eyed with our jaws dropped. No matter how mad Darry got, he never hit Ponyboy before.

"Ponyboy..." Darry inspected his hand and it turned bright red. Ponyboy dashed out of the house without looking back.

"Ponyboy! I didn't mean to!" Darry called out.

"I'm gonna go after him." I ran to the front door to put my shoes on again.

"I'll go too," Soda stated.

"No, Soda, it's okay. Really."

"I'm sure he is fine. He will be back," Darry said. His voice was shaky.

"Darry, trust me on this. Okay? I'll talk some sense into him." I tied my shoes and darted out the door, following Ponyboy. I knew exactly where he was going.

He was going to the lot. Ponyboy slowed down a touch, bending down and shaking someone. I'm sure it was Johnny. He mumbled something to him and they ran off.

With every step I took, I could feel my phone pressing against my butt. These pants were comfortable but quite tight around my ass, which is how I think they are supposed to fit. I wished I made some friends that were girls in school so they could teach me how to dress. Evie is great, but she loves tight clothes.

They ran for several blocks before they stopped running. I could hear Ponyboys soft cries fill the air. They sat down on the curb and Ponyboy buried his face in his arms. Johnny put his arm around Ponyboy and reassured him that everything would be okay. I walked over to them and sat down beside Ponyboy. He didn't even look up.

"Bri?" Johnny whispered. I nodded. It was kinda hard to see in the dark.

Ponyboy finally calmed down and Johnny gave him a cigarette. We explained to Johnny what had happened.

"What were you two planning on doing?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"We were going to run away. Now, I don't think it's much of a good idea." Ponyboy was shaking.

"Are you cold?" I asked. I knew he was, I could see the goosebumps forming on his arms.

"A little."

I unzipped the sweatshirt, took it off and laid it across his shoulders. It left my arms exposed to the cool air, since I was only wearing a t-shirt. He smiled and thanked me.

"Let's walk to the park and back. Maybe by then I'll be cooled off enough to go home," Ponyboy suggested. Johnny agreed, but I had second thoughts.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said.

"Why not?" Pony asked with a pout.

"It's dark out. What if some Socs cause us trouble?" I hypothesized.

"This is our turf, Socs ain't gonna be coming around," Pony said very confidently.

"Can we please just go home?" I begged.

"You can if you want, Johnny and I are goin' to the park. Aren't we, Johnny?"

Johnny let out a small, "yes," and they made their way to the park, completely refusing my idea of just biting the bullet and going home. Even if we took a brief walk anywhere else in the neighborhood, the Socs would find them anyway. Since they were being stubborn, I couldn't just let them be alone. Besides, I shouldn't be alone either. Even if I booked it back to Darry and Soda, by the time I could get them to come to the park with me I bet we would come across a fresh dead body and the boys would be out of town by then.

I followed them to the park. My stomach started to turn and I knew it was a bad idea. I should have had a game-plan for this night. I should never have let Dally walk me home. I should have stayed with the boys and dragged Pony by his feet until we passed the threshold of the front door. It's too late now. All I can do now is hope it doesn't escalate.

Chapter 10: Windrixville and Bob Sheldon

Chapter Text

We got to the park and sat near the fountain. The water fixture had water spitting out the middle which acted like a waterfall, gently falling back into the water that surrounded it. No one was around since it was around 2:30 in the morning.

"Guys, I really don't think being out here is a good idea. Come on, let's go home," I blurted. I rubbed my bare arms with the palms of my hands to create friction. Damn, it was cold.

"We won't be here for very long, Bri," Pony reassured.

"If we don't leave right now, I bet some Socs are going to find us," I told them.

Johnny shook his head. "They don't come over this far."

"They probably will tonight," I stated.

"No, they won't. I just need a few more minutes," Ponyboy said.

"A few more minutes of what?" I snapped impatiently. My heart was thudding in my chest from the anxiety of knowing what was to come if we didn't get out of there.

"I just don't want to face Darry," his voice was small.

"I am going to be honest, I don't care. I promised him that I would bring you back, we need to go now."

"Hold your horses, Bri, I will."

"Like, right now."

"Geez, could you be patient?"

"No," I snapped.

We suddenly heard a loud car horn that spooked all of us. A blue mustang was driving around the park, circling it like how a vulture circles around their prey.

Is that a Soc car?

"What did Ijustsay? What did Ijusttell you?" I asked harshly.

"What do they want? This is our territory. What are Socs doing this far East?" Ponyboy asked, not really looking for an answer. Johnny cursed under his breath. He looked really nervous.

"I don't know. But we picked up their girls, I bet they are looking for us."

"Youwhat?" I whispered harshly. "We have to get out of here. Now."

Ponyboy flicked his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it to put it out.

"It's too late now, here they come." Pony nervously exhaled a puff of smoke.

"No, it's never too late to run. Come on, let's go. Let's go," I begged, waving my arms to try to get them to stand up. I even grabbed Pony's arm to try to pull him away because I knew that Johnny would follow Pony like a puppy, but he didn't budge.

"Bri, you can leave if you want but we ain't going no where," Pony said, shaking me off.

"Guys, I literally told you that they were coming," I spat. "And you didn't listen to me."

"How were we supposed to know?" Pony whispered back harshly.

"Johnny, come on," I whined.

He shook his head. "I'm stayin' here with Pony."

I exhaled in defeat, looking between my two boys. My stubborn, stubborn boys. I clenched my jaw from frustration. Even if I got Johnny to leave, Pony might get killed in that fountain. If I leave, Bob will certainly die.

I could hear the Socs walking up behind me. I turned around and saw five Socs who were staggering towards us. From the way they were walking, we all noticed that they were drunk. I heard Ponyboy's breath quicken. They outnumbered us five to three. In the corner of my eye, I saw Johnny's hand go toward his back pocket. I remembered that he carries a switchblade around with him wherever he goes. This must be bringing back some dark memories.

"It's not too late," I said under my breath. "Let's make a run for it. They can't catch us all."

"Hush up, Bri," Pony said just loud enough for me to hear.

The Socs surrounded us and we had our backs to the fountain. I really wished that they listened to me, then we wouldn't be in this mess.

I didn't recognize the Socs, but I knew that one was Bob and the other was Randy. I knew which one Bob was, he had the rings. I could still feel them digging into my hand when I met him on my first day of school. Johnny wasn't taking his eyes off the rings that gripped a flask.

"Hey, whatta ya know? Here's the little Greasers who picked up our girls. Hey Greasers," Bob slurred.

"You're outta your territory. You better watch it," Johnny warned. His voice was shaky and low but he did his best to sound tough. I love him but it was a little pathetic, I'm surprised the Socs didn't laugh in his face. The scar on his face glistened in the moonlight.

"Nup, pal, yer the ones who'd better watch it," a Soc wearing a red sweater mumbled.

"Next time you want a broad, pick up yer own kind. Dirt." Bob stepped closer. He eyed me and a little smile picked up his lips. "Hey, I know you."

"Leave her alone," Ponyboy spat.

"You're that new girl from California. What are you doing hanging with these bums?" He asked me.

"She's none of your concern," Ponyboy said bravely. I didn't even get a chance to speak.

"She a grease?" Bob asked accusingly, pointing to me.

"I said, none of your concern," Ponyboy said with conviction. I didn't know what to say. My mind was racing, thinking about ways we could safely leave the situation without anyone getting killed. Plus, I was terrified so it made it harder to think straight.

"Oh, honey, why didn't you say something?" He asked. "I could have saved you."

"I didn't need saving," I hissed.

"You know what a Greaser is?" Bob asked. "White trash with long greasy hair." The Socs all laughed. I could tell that Johnny and Ponyboy felt offended.

"You know what a Soc is?" Ponyboy asked. He was beyond mad. "White trash with mustangs and madras." Then he spit at them.

"Since youse boys thought you could pick up our girls, why don't we square things up." Bob lunged forward and grabbed me. I screamed as he wrapped his heavy arms around me and pulled me into him. A cloud of stench that stemmed from his boozy breath wafted over me. "We can have some fun with you."

"Get off me!" I screeched as he sloppily kissed my neck.

"You let her go! Get your hands off her, you son of a bitch!" Pony shouted.

"You could use a bath, Greaser. And a good working over. And we've got all night to do it. Give the kid a bath, David." Bob leered at Ponyboy, with a cunning smile.

A Soc, who I'm believing to be David, grabbed Ponyboys arm, twisting it behind him and shoved his head into the fountain. It happened so fast I didn't have any time to react except to gasp. Pony had just enough time to scream Johnny's name before his head was under water. A couple Socs jumped on Johnny and he pulled his switch blade out.

"No!" I screamed. I tried to twist and push myself out of Bob's grasp. It took me a minute to remember what I had learned from Dally. He wrapped his arm around my neck when I dropped and I was able to grab a hold of his elbow. I threw my chest forward, launching Bob over my back. I ran away from Bob, who was groaning on the ground, and I jumped onto David. Ponyboy was thrashing around under him. The jump caused him to get off balance. I did my best to scratch at David's arms and I even pulled chunks of his hair out in order for him to release Pony. "Let him go!" I screamed into his ear.

I felt two hands grab my shirt and threw me off of David. I slide on the pavement and felt burns from the asphalt forming on my arm. I couldn't tell who threw me off. I didn't care, I stood back up and slugged David in the face. I've never punched anyone before. He fell and Ponyboy was no longer struggling under his grasp. But he wasn't getting up either. Before I could help Ponyboy out of the water, a Soc grabbed my hips with his large hands. I instinctively grabbed the hands that were wrapped around my waist and tried to pry them off of me. The unknown Soc tossed me out of their way. I rolled on the concrete and felt blood drip from my lip.

They didn't want me, they wanted Ponyboy and Johnny. They were the ones who talked to their girlfriends. I was just in their way.

The guy in the red sweater teamed up with Bob and they held Pony under the water while David was holding Pony's legs to keep him from kicking. He managed to wield his body in a way that made Bob fall into the water, but when he popped back up he screamed, "son of a bitch! Grab his arms! Hold him down!"

They'd bring him up enough for him to suck in air, only to dunk him again, filling his lungs with water. Eventually, Pony stopped struggling under their grasp which made them laugh in triumph. They eventually made their way over toward Johnny, who was shaking like a leaf.

I knew that Johnny was going to be fine. Sure he was petrified, but he had a weapon and he was a pretty tough kid. But I knew that Ponyboy needed help as soon as possible. At this point, the only thing on my mind was to save my boys. He was still submerged in the fountain and wasn't moving. I ran full force to the fountain once again, ducking any Soc who tried to stop me.

I leaned into the fountain and grabbed Ponyboy's waist and tried to haul him out. He was too heavy. I jumped into the fountain and crouched beside him, getting my shirt and my jeans wet. I took his head out of the water first, before jolting him up the side of my body until I got a good grip on his ribs and I was able to slide him onto the pavement as carefully as I could.

What was going through their heads? What was the urge to attempt to murder two young boys in a park? I wanted to sit down with every single one of them and make them cry for what they did. I wanted to see them in a room with steel bars that separated us.

I felt heavy arms wrap around me again. I was pulled off of Pony, which made me scream out and thrash around. Bob pulled me into his chest and hugged around me tight.

"I'm gonna take you back to my Mustang and show you what a real man is like," he slurred into my ear. His hand came up to my throat, squeezing until I felt like he was choking me.

I made eye contact with the Soc in the red sweater. His clothes were wet from when Pony was thrashing the water around in his attempt to not drown. He heard exactly what Bob had said, and all he did was look away and take a swig of his flask. He refused to look me in the eye.

"Let go of me, please," I begged with a shaky voice. All Bob did was laugh so I looked to the Soc in red and pleaded with him. "Help me. Please, help me."

My heart dropped when his eyes gravitated toward us but still looked away. He swayed where he stood, and looked down at his flask as if he was trying to look inside it. I don't know if it was so he could act busy while he ignored me, or what. Maybe he felt bad, but not bad enough. Regardless, this showed me that he is a coward who didn't care if any of us lived or died. Drunk or not.

Bob kept his hold on my neck to keep me still. He tilted my chin up and forced his lips into mine. I grimaced and tried to move my head away from him, but he squeezed my neck tighter. One of the other guys came over to hold me still while Bob briefly moved on to sucking on my neck, while trying to take off my shirt, which made me feel sick. I kept trying to fight him, but it was no use.

He finally stopped and said loudly in my ear, "once your little friends stop breathing, you'll be all mine."

I was terrified. No one was going to stop them. I couldn't even fight back the way that Dally taught me. I could not fathom just how scary this situation was until I was in it. Bob didn't let me move my head, so all I could do was look at Pony and slowly watch him die. I felt helpless. And if Bob got me back to his Mustang, it would be over for me too.

"Get away from me!" I spat at him.

"Oh, come on. We are just having fun," he taunted.

I didn't start screaming again until Bob and his friend began to drag me back to his car. Their cynical laugher was echoing in my ears as I begged him to let me go, and I tried to get away. There was one hand around my throat and another arm or two around my body. I was thrashing around, but he managed to bring his hand down and unbutton my jeans and slide his hand down my pants.

Suddenly, Johnny ran into Bob with a scream. Bob grunted and the four of us fell to the ground. I heard a crunch and my hip throbbed in pain, like I had ran into a table. I scrambled up to my feet and Bob was still on the ground, cradling his wrist. I realized that when we fell, I think Bob broke his wrist from under my hip. Bob stayed on the ground and Johnny was over him, punching him and shouting at him while his friend rolled over and watched in horror.

I began to back away, fixing my jeans and quickly turned around and sprinted to Ponyboy. He was my top priority. I fell to my knees beside him. He still wasn't moving, so I knew I had to do something. I put my shaking hands on his chest and began pumping.

"Stayin' alive, stayin' alive. Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive," I sang to myself with desperation in my voice to keep myself on the beat. I felt distressed, practically begging Pony to wake up. I was too focused on saving Ponyboy that I didn't notice that the Socs were running off.

I gave up the song and cried out, "come on, Pony! Breathe!"

Right then, Ponyboy coughed up water, gasping for air. He rolled over so I patted his back as he coughed, spitting the water out onto the ground. When he was done, we both looked at Johnny. He looked sick, he sat next to Ponyboy.

"What's going on, Johnny?" I asked. I knew Ponyboy was thinking it. I didn't see it happen. I had to know if I was successful in stopping it.

"I killed him." Johnny gulped. "I killed that boy."

We saw Bob laying still on the ground. His crimson blood slowly pooled around him. I could see him through the strands of my tousled hair that fell in front of my face from the attack. My eyes widened and my breathing quickened.

I covered my mouth and sat back against the fountain. I tearfully gasped, and I was shaking. The air smelled metallic. An overwhelming sense of dread coursed through my body. Everything was slipping through my fingers. I failed.

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god," I breathed out through my trembling voice.

"Guys, I think I'm going to be sick." Ponyboy looked dizzy. His face was pale, and his eyes looked like he was looking off in the distance.

"Go ahead. We won't look at you," Johnny said in a steady voice. He was still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

Ponyboy ran off and threw up in a nearby garbage can. I bit my lip so I wouldn't be sick either. I crawled over to Bob. His eyes were open, but I didn't see any light of life shining in them. I gingerly touched my fingers to his still-warm neck. No pulse.

"Is he okay?" Johnny stammered, already knowing the answer. I shook my head. He was already gone.

I came back to my spot on the pavement and I slid my fingers through my hair to push it out of my face. The strands were sticking to my fingers, which I didn't know had his blood on them until I looked. To distract myself, I pulled as much of the fabric from my black t-shirt as I could and squeezed it to wring the cold water out. I saw the sweatshirt I gave Pony floating in the water. I fished it out of the cold water and wrung that out too.

Ponyboy came back and sat in between Johnny and I. He leaned back and closed his eyes. "You really killed him, huh, Johnny?"

"Yeah. I had to. They were drowning you and beating us up," Johnny said, quivering.

"They would have killed you, Pony," I added.

"They had a blade." Johnny exhaled shakily. "Bob was gonna do somethin' bad to Bri. Real bad. I heard 'em. They ran when I stabbed him. They all ran."

"Why did you do that, Johnny?" I groaned. My stomach hurt, I felt sick. "Why did you have to do that?!"

"I heard what they were gonna do to you, Bri. Somethin' real bad. I panicked... I-I-I couldn't let them do that."

"Johnny!" Ponyboy screamed. It must have just occurred to him that all three of us are going to be wanted for murder. "What are you gonna do? They put people in the electric chair for killing people! Guys, I'm scared. What are you gonna do?"

"Calm down, Ponyboy! Get a hold of yourself!" Johnny screamed too. It was the loudest I've ever heard him.

"Okay... I'm okay now." Ponyboy calmed down a bit, but he was still in a state of shock.

"We gotta get outta here. Get somewhere. Run away. The police'll be here soon. We'll need money. And maybe a gun. And a plan," Johnny said nervously.

"We don't need a gun." I tried to talk him down. "This is all a bad idea—"

"Dally. Dally'll get us outta here," Johnny said, totally ignoring me.

"Let's just go to the police before the Socs do," I suggested, trying to be the voice of reason.

"No, we can't. I'll get put in the slammer just like Dally," Johnny stated.

"You'll end up changing your mind anyway!"

"I won't. I promise, I won't."

"Where can we find Dally?" Ponyboy asked.

"He said he would be at Bucks tonight," I sighed. I knew that they weren't going to give up on their horrible plan. I never feel like I'm doing enough, but now, the only way out, is through.

"I'm not supposed to go over there," Pony said.

"Pony! Dally will help us," Johnny said.

Ponyboy reluctantly agreed and I was the caboose. We walked to a sketchy part of town that I don't like going to. We reached this run-down brown house with dim lights and crappy music playing out of every window.

Ponyboy knocked on the door and the toothless blonde cowboy answered the door. I've crossed paths with Buck many times. He's Dally's rodeo partner, and not a very good guy. I've only gone to a few of his parties, but otherwise I'm coming over to pick up my boys that are too drunk to get home by themselves. The music got louder along with the sounds of laughter and glasses clinking and smashing.

"Whatta ya want?" He held a bottle of cheap beer in his hand.

"Dally! We gotta see Dally," Johnny yelled above the music.

"He's busy."

"Tell him it's Bri, Ponyboy, and Johnny," Ponyboy said after.

"He will know what that means," I quipped. I thought it was funny, so I said it in a serious tone but it was dumb.

The guy stared at me like he knew exactly what I said but it still confused him. Then he stumbled off, leaving the door open.

"I just hope that Dally isn't drunk," Ponyboy wished.

"Why?" I asked.

"You know how he gets," Ponyboy mumbled.

"Yeah, that's true," I stated.

Dally got to the door quickly and he scratched his bare chest. He only had on a pair of jeans. He seemed sober enough, which was honestly a surprise. Buck's parties are extremely wild, either ending with Dally passed out on the Curtis's front lawn with someone finding him in the morning, or getting arrested for public intoxication or underage drinking. I've had to bail him out of jail before. If he escapes the law, he always seems to manage to find the Curtis's front door and end his wild night passed out on the living room couch.

One time I woke up in the middle of the night to Dally drunkenly singing to himself or to us near my window. I'm still not sure which. I tried to ignore him by pressing a pillow to my ears but it didn't work. I would have rather listened to cats fighting. To shut him up, I ended up having to go outside in my pajamas and drag his dumbass in the house.

I had stepped out onto the porch and rubbed my tired eyes. The air was warm without wind, and it was a clear summer's night where I could feel the humidity. I heard the distant sound of the train whistle, and the crickets that were quietly chirping around in the grass. There was still the faint smell of a bonfire in the neighborhood that was almost comforting. I didn't bother to put shoes on because I didn't expect to stay out there for long. Dally had just gone through the gate which he let swing open behind him. He was on his way to the porch steps but stumbled sideways onto the grass.

"-'nother Saturday night and I ain't got no-body,
I got some money 'cause I just got paid.
How I wish I had someone to talk to,
I'm in an awful way!"Dally slurred out, out of tune to the original Sam Cooke song.

"What the hell are you doing? You're going to wake up the entire neighborhood!" I whispered in a low growl.

Dally's empty eyes had met mine and he stumbled back a bit, his veins clearly full of liquor. A bottle of beer hung loosely in his hand and he spluttered, "hey, hey, sweetheart. I can't, uh... I can't seem to find the door."

"The front door?" I asked while pointing to the door just behind me. I kept my voice low so the other guys didn't wake up.

He nodded his head in an exaggerated fashion but it threw his balance off. He raised his hand as if he was trying to catch himself on an imaginary wall. He staggered a bit but got his footing back, lurching his body unpredictably to try to keep his balance. He swayed as he stood like Captain Jack Sparrow. "Yup, that's the one."

"Well, you look like you had fun. How was the party?"

"Swell, baby. It was real fine. I feel real good."

"I bet you do," I stated, patronizing him.

"You shoulda come. You know, Buck started to make his own white lightning."

"White lightning?" I mumbled then realized what that was. "Like moonshine?"

"Ye-yup, that's the one."

"Holy sh*t," I said. No wonder he was plastered out of his mind.

"Yeah," he chuckled. His thick hair was disheveled more than usual. "Holy sh*t."

"So what are you doing here?" I asked. Even from the porch I could see the expanded blood vessels on his face.

"What? A guy can't get rip-roarin' drunk and wanna see his very very best friend Bri-Brianna Jones?" He asked loudly, followed by a hiccup. He plucked a cigarette he had from behind his ear and tried to flip it around his fingers, but it fell to the ground and he didn't bother to pick it back up. "Whoops."

"Not if it's two in the morning."

"Ar-right, I confess." He took a swig of his beer and his legs crossed when he took a wobbly step. "I really ain'tthatdrunk."

"Uh-huh, sure," I said condescendingly.

"Well, maybe I am... a little. I came here for a reason. Very important... reason." He raised his finger up at me like he was going to make a point. His facial expressions seemed completely exaggerated.

"What reason is that?" I crossed my arms.

Dally hiccupped then he leaned backward with wide eyes. He fell to his butt on the green grass with a grunt. He brought the bottle back up to his lips, where some beer dribbled down his chin. He slowly tilted his head back more and more the emptier the bottle got, then he laid on his back and let the empty bottle roll out of his hands. He sprawled out on the lawn, like a starfish without a care in the world.

"Are you going to come inside?" I asked impatiently. I didn't even care why he was here anymore. He had become a nuisance.

"Yup. I—" he hiccupped "—'m real drunk. Give me a second, will ya?"

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Real good, doll."

"Then why are you on the ground?"

"You'reon the ground," he slurred. I couldn't tell if it was supposed to be a witty comeback or what.

I sighed softly. I wasn't just going to leave him there, no matter how much he deserved it. I would never be able to sleep knowing that he was passed out in the yard. I care about him and everyone else in the gang too much to let any of them do that. I've had a similar night with Two-Bit, and even Soda recently. I guess this is what I get for having my window open.

"Come on, Dal," I whined softly as I slowly walked up to him. I swung the gate closed which made the chain link fence rattle.

"What?" He groaned.

"Get up. It's late and I'm tired."

He lifted his head up then it immediately fell back down. He started laughing like his brain was full of tiny bubbles. Through his laughter and slurring, I think he said, "doll, I don't think I can."

"I want to go back to bed," I said.

"Don't be cruel to me. I'm just gonna... I'm just gonna close my eyes... for a little."

I didn't see a car nearby, thank God. How he managed to even get to the Curtis house, I have no idea. The ten minute walk from Buck's by himself must have taken him an eternity. I'm shocked he didn't pass out in someone else's yard. He could barely walk, let alone stand up straight.

I walked up to him and reached down to grab his hands. I leaned back to try to yank him up, but he gave me his dead weight and let his hands slip out of my grasp. Watching me struggle made him giggle, which had made me annoyed. I was too tired to be dealing with this.

"You get real cute when you sh-crunch your nose like that," he chuckled and flicked his own nose, but missed and hit his flushed cheek instead. He spoke with a numb tongue.

"I'm glad you are having fun with this," I said sarcastically with my hands on my knees, trying to brainstorm what I should do. I almost wanted to wake up Soda so he could help me, but he had to work a double shift the next day.

"It's amusing." He gave me a smirk.

I got down on my knees beside him and grabbed a hold of his arm. I counted to three, and I pulled him back up to his feet. He reeked of cigarettes and booze, which he didn't seem fazed by. Dally just about fell into me, his heavy body was following his bobble head. But I caught him and didn't let him go down. If I fell, we both would have been on the ground.

"Whoops," he mumbled. His eyes were glossy, and his gaze drifted all over me. He brushed my cheek with his hand and he asked, "did I hurt ya?"

"No, I'm okay."

I got his arm over my shoulders and we hobbled together toward the front door. His jaw was hanging slack very slightly. He put a great deal of his weight on me, and I wasn't strong enough to carry him like that.

A truck drove through the neighborhood, blasting a song on his radio that Dally hyper-fixated on. He exclaimed how much he loved the song, then pulled me backwards with a yelp as he yelled out happily to sing along to the song. He pulled me into him as he spun around. I think Dally got dizzy because he collapsed and brought me down along with him. He grunted when I fell on top of him and I rolled off to lay beside him in the grass.

"Glory," he said with a laugh, closing his eyes for a second. I rolled my head in his direction, annoyed. I really should have just left him out there. "Make the world stop spinning."

"You need to get inside before you do something else that's stupid," I told him as I sat up.

He sat up quickly, probably giving himself a head rush. He fought against it and tried to scramble up to his teetering feet. He leaned too far to the side, and ended up tripping over his own feet and landing back in the grass. Every time he gets wasted, he's always sloppy and it's so irritating.

"I'm on the ground," he said dryly.

"How observant of you." I stood up with a yawn and walked over to him. Slowly, he rolled over onto his stomach and propped himself up on his feet. He slowly stood up and his legs wobbled like a baby fawn.

"Wow-ee," he exclaimed as he stumbled.

Dally instantly wrapped his arm around me and together we headed to the porch. My arm was around his waist to pull him close, and my other hand held his heavy arm that was draped over my shoulders. My legs had to be strong to keep him from leaning us in different directions.

"You have a twig in your hair," I told him. A small twig and a couple of leaves from the ground stuck in his fluffy hair. He doesn't grease his hair like the others, he doesn't cut it either. Hereallydoesn't like anyone touching it.

"Can y'get it?" He asked.

"You want me to touch your hair?" I asked for clarification.

Dally laughed and said, "honey, you can touch my hair all you want."

"Okay. Hold still." I was surprised to hear him say that. I reached over and plucked the twig and the leaves from his hair and shook it out a little to get any loose dirt off too.

"Better?" He asked.

"Better." We kept walking.

"Everythin' is movin' around," he muttered drowsily. He slid his hand down his face and shook his head as if he was trying to fix his vision. He stepped on my foot and mumbled, "sorry."

"It's fine."

"Y'know, I have a thing for brunettes?" He raised his eyebrows up and flashed me a lazy but broad grin, as if he was trying to seduce me. His face was so close to mine, I had to look away so our noses wouldn't touch. His breath was horrendous.

"You can tell me all about it in the morning," I told him flatly. He was practically breathing on my ear. I just wanted to get him inside.

"Oh, man, darlin', I don't think I've drank this much since..." his voice trailed off and he put his free hand up against his stomach, bare and exposed by his open jean jacket. He was blinking with intention, trying to find the rest of his sentence. "I dunno when."

Buck has parties all the time, but the last time I can remember Dally being this drunk was on the Fourth of July. Most of the gang were celebrating the best way Americans know how: with booze, hot dogs, and fireworks. It's also the most drunk I've ever seen Darry, and Soda. But that's a story for another day.

I was still irritated but I said, "let's just get you to the couch, okay?"

"You takin' care of me?" He asked in a small voice.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said. I realized that I'm usually the one dealing with the guys after a wild night out. Only when they're being an inconvenience to me, or if Buck calls about them. Everyone else is usually busy or sleeping. I'd never go out of my way, because they need to deal with the consequences of their own actions. But if they need me, I'll always be there.

"Why? Why are you bein' so nice to me?" He asked slowly.

"I wasn't just going to leave you out there," I told him.

"Really?" His voice was uncharacteristically soft and kind.

"Really."

"Don't I deserve to sleep in the yard like a hound?"

"Yeah, you do," I chuckled. "But I couldn't make you do that. And don't get a big head about this either, this is just the lesser of two evils."

"That's mighty sweet of ya, but I can do this all by my lonesome," he said thickly with his chin up in the air, like he's really trying to maintain his pride.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I can make it—I can make it alright. Leave me alone."

The few steps up onto the porch were a treacherous task, but manageable. When we got to the front door, I didn't move. I looked to Dally and said, "it's all you now."

He glared at me with annoyance and a great amount of sheer confidence that stemmed from the alcohol and his usual independence. "Really, sweetheart?"

"You said that you could get inside without my help, so do it," I said. I was just doing what Dally wanted, because he always got what he wanted.

His arm slipped from me and he stumbled up to the door. His hand groped for the handle, which he finally found and he pushed the door open. He looked back at me smugly and stumbled backwards, but he caught himself with the chair on the porch. His eyes were wide. "Oh, boy. Woah."

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I am dandy, darlin'."

Dally pushed himself off the chair and leaned through the doorframe. His feet got caught on the leg of the chair by the front door in the house, which made him trip and he splat on his stomach. The chair made a loud clamoring noise. I hissed air between my teeth with hopes that it didn't wake anyone up. He groaned and rolled over onto his back, and he looked up at me.

"You are driving me crazy," I whispered harshly.

"Get me up," he demanded.

I gently kicked his shoe and asked in a condescending tone, "I'm sorry, I thought you said you could do this by yourself."

"I don't need your attitude right now, I really don't." He rubbed his eye and started to laugh. "I feel so very f*ckin' wasted."

"You are an idiot," I said and moved his feet with mine so I could shut the front door. I squatted down and slipped his shoes off, because Darry hates dirty shoes in the house. I was so close to getting him out of my hair, I was really looking forward to going back to bed.

When I got him back on his feet, his chin was dipped down to his chest as he slurred, "y'know, ain't nobody else woulda done this for me. You're a real nice girl, Brianna. An awfully pretty one too. I never woulda thought I'd be likin' a good girl like youse but you're all right."

"Yeah, okay. Thank you," I chuckled gently. I know to take what he says not seriously.

"We all like ya an awful lot. Y'are funny. Y'are real fine. Y'are nice. Y'are everythin' us greasers ain't. Soda never shuts up about ya, y'know."

"Thanks, Dal."

"Oh, uh-oh," he said as he fluttered his jacket a little and realized he didn't have his shirt on. "Where's my shirt?"

"I don't know," I said.

"See, I ain't... I ain't too drunk, sweetheart. I can still take my clothes off." He smiled at me broadly and drunkenly snickered. His eyes looked droopy.

"Okay." There was no logic to that.

"Golly, you're pretty. I always thought so 'cause I knew so. One more drink and I might ask you to be my girl."

"That's why you're cut off. Keep walking," I told him to keep his focus on the task at hand. I swear he had the memory of a goldfish.

"Oh, f*ck," he grumbled while bringing his hand up to his head as we stepped up to the couch. "My head's swimmin'. I feel like 'm floatin' or spinnin'. 'm I spinnin'?"

"No."

"Didn't—" he hiccupped. "Didn't think so."

"You really can't hold your liquor, can you?" I asked teasingly. I know he can. He could drink Two-Bit under the table, which is saying something. It's not really something to be proud of though. How is being like this not totally embarrassing?

"I can," he defended himself. "It's when I doallthe drinkin' that it gets to my head. Oh, man. I give up. I'm—I'm going down."

I hugged him a little tighter when his legs stopped working and begged, "please, we are almost there."

He grumbled something in response, but his eyes were only half open and he was ready to just collapse where he stood. Just another step and we were at the couch.

"I'm gonna piss myself," I barely heard him grumble. His voice was half-asleep,

"What?"

"I gotta piss."

"Are you f*cking serious?" I muttered. I couldn't just shove him on the couch and risk ruining it or having to clean it in the morning. Yuck. I used the time it took to walk him over to the bathroom to mentally prepare myself to be a reallyreallygreat friend.

His head was nodding as he tried to keep it up and his eyes struggled to stay open. He mumbled, "I'm f*cked up."

"You are sof*ckinglucky I'm not an asshole," I muttered under my breath.

When we got to the hallway, Dally was using his other arm that wasn't wrapped around me to press against the wall to help with his balance. We got to the bathroom and I turned just a bit to turn on the light. Dally slipped away from me, and he grabbed a hold of the shower curtain to catch himself. The rod broke, sending Dally collapsing into the tub with the metal rod banging against his head, making the loudest racket.

"Ow," Dally mumbled.

"Oh, my god," I huffed and quickly closed the door. Dally didn't move, too drunk to even care. All he did was snicker. I was dabbling with the idea that I should just leave him there. "What the hell am I gonna do with you?"

There was a very soft knock on the door. In a soft voice, Soda asked through the door, "hey, Bri? You okay in there?"

I exhaled softly to avoid groaning and I opened the door for him slowly. He was in his pajama pants, but nothing more. He smiled when he saw me, then his tired eyes drifted to Dally nearly passed out in the bathtub, laying on the shower curtain with the curtain rod across his body and his legs hanging over the edge.

"What in the Sam Hill happened to him?" Soda asked in a low voice.

"Can you help me with him? Please?" I begged quietly.

"Yeah, sure," he said immediately. He walked into the bathroom and we grabbed Dally together and hoisted him up.

"He has to go," I told him while Dally's head hung low between us.

"Go? Like,gogo?" He asked.

I nodded. "Yeah."

Soda sighed and said that he would take care of it. I stepped out of the bathroom to give him some privacy and I went into the kitchen to grab myself a glass of water. I felt bad that Soda woke up, but at the same time I was very relieved.

The light from the bathroom reflected off the walls of the hallway with Soda coming out to the living room with Dally. I rushed over and helped him get Dally over to the couch.

"Soda?" Dally murmured.

"Yeah, man?"

"Where'd Bri go?" He tried to flutter his eyes open.

"She's right here," Soda told him.

"M'kay. She's pretty cool." He spoke like I wasn't even there.

Soda chuckled softly and said, "I know."

"She's bein' nice to me."

"Yeah, she's real nice." Soda smiled.

"I like her."

"Me too."

Dally mumbled something else incoherently, but luckily we were already at the couch.

"Here, just lay down," I whispered.

Dally fell face first on the couch with his legs hanging off the edge. I think he passed out the second his head hit the plushy cushion. His face pressed into the couch, and he started to snore softly. I felt better now that he wasn't going to be sleeping outside like an animal, so I was able to selflessly go to bed too after setting some medicine and a glass of water next to him for the morning.

"Thanks," I whispered to Soda.

"He can be a handful. He owes me big time," he chuckled softly. "I'll fix the curtain tomorrow."

"I'm sorry for waking you."

"It wasn't you, it was him." He nodded toward Dally. "Ain't your fault he decided to get plastered on a Tuesday."

"He was screaming outside my window, I couldn't sleep," I said.

"I didn't hear nothing."

"I keep my window open," I admitted.

Soda chuckled. "That's why. If he pulls this kind of stunt again, just wake me up and let me know. I'll deal with him."

"I will," I promised. I yawned and glanced back at Dally again. I said, "I'm going to go back to bed."

"Me too," Soda also yawned. "I've got that long shift tomorrow."

"I was thinking about getting you, but I know you have that double tomorrow and I didn't want to bother you."

"No, no. Don't you worry about me none. I don't want you to have to deal with Dal when he's like that, you don't deserve that. Just let me know next time and I'll take him off your hands."

"Thank you."

Soda walked with me down the short hallway and wished me a goodnight when we got to my room. He went back into Pony's room, and I went into mine. I fell back to sleep easily.

The next morning, I woke up to Dally cursing through the wall from the bathroom which is by my room. This was followed by violent gagging and groans that even made me feel sick. I ended up going into the living room and sitting on the couch to watch TV so I didn't have to hear him puke all morning.

The show I picked drowned out the horrendous gurgling sound from the bathroom. His jean jacket had been tossed away sometime during his night on the couch, because I saw it in the middle of the room.

I didn't see him until he stumbled out to the living room, he was just in his jeans that he was buttoning back up. His pale, dull skin was drained of all color and looked sickeningly clammy, with dark bags under his sunken eyes.

"I feel like sh*t," he stated flatly.

"I can see that," I replied bluntly.

"God almighty. How the f*ck did I get here?" He asked while he rubbed his puffy eyes. His voice was scratchy and hoarse.

"You walked," I told him.

"Jesus Christ. I did? When?"

"I think it was around two or three," I told him as I hugged my knees into my chest.

"In the morning?" He groaned.

"Uh-huh." Hopefully he realizes just how inconsiderate that is. My eyes were stinging, I was still tired.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"You don't remember?"

"I remember Buck and I goin' drink for drink, then everything kinda fades out after that," he said as he scratched the back of his head. "What'd I do?"

"A lot," I chuckled. "Woke me and Soda."

"God damn."

"Soda says you owe him. Big time."

"For what?"

I hid my smile and said, "I think Soda should tell you."

All he did was groan from my lack of corporation.

"And where's my shirt?" He asked.

"Don't know. You were wondering that last night too."

"Damn."

"So, you really don't remember anything?" I asked.

Dally thought for a second. "I remember walking over to the house, that was real rough. Don't know how I didn't fall into a ditch or nothin'. I had a hard time gettin' past that fence out there, then I know I saw you... that's 'bout it."

"Why didn't you just stay there? Why did you walk all the way here?" I asked genuinely. His room is just upstairs at Buck's place. In the few times where Buck will actually call the Curtis landline for us to take Dally or Two off his hands, we usually just get them up the stairs. I think it would be a lot harder to travel to the Curtis house than to just walk or crawl up the stairs. He must have had a reason, even in his boozed up brain.

"I can't remember. I still feel drunk." He walked to the couch and held his head as he sat down near me. He looked so stiff when he moved, like his limbs were planks of wood. He blinked hard a few times, the same way I do when I get migraines. "Why does my arm hurt?"

"Probably from when you fell," I said.

"I fell?"

I nodded. "Multiple times."

"Probably explains the bump on my head."

"That was from the shower curtain rod."

"Is that why it's broken?" He was connecting the dots.

"Yep."

"I didn't say anything weird to you last night... did I?" He asked.

I shook my head and let out a little, "no."

"Okay. Okay, that's good. God, I ain't ever drinkin' again. My head is killing me."

"Did you take the medicine I left for you?"

"No."

"Take it."

Dally reached down to the glass of water and the painkiller on the floor and took it hesitantly. He asked me to turn the TV down, so all I did was walk over to the television box and pretend to click the volume button. I got back to the couch and Dally sat next to me with his arm over his eyes, either trying to sleep or trying to listen to the show.

"You smell horrible," I told him honestly. He smelled like vodka, beer, and horrible decisions. It lingered around him like a cloud.

He sighed. "I know."

"Why don't you go shower or something?"

"f*ck off, all right? I'll shower when I'm good and ready."

"You'll probably feel better. And smell better."

"You don't smell all that great either," he said, like it was the best insult he could come up with in this moment.

Offended, I gave myself a sniff and thought I smelled like flowers since I showered last night. "Rude. I smell better than you."

"Whatever."

That was just a few weeks ago.

When Dally drinks, he reminds me a lot of Two-Bit. He gets annoying, boisterous, and amorous. He can still get abrasive and mean in an instant, even more so with liquor flowing through his body. But it's always directed at other guys trying to challenge him in a fight or something.

My mind drifted back to the issue at hand. Dally looked surprised to see us, which was understandable. I never wanted to go to Buck's and Pony wasn't even allowed to. I doubt Johnny had ever even been to a place like this.

"Okay, whatta ya need me for?" Dally looked at me and I saw a little smile form on his lips. I couldn't tell if it was because he was happy to see me, or if he was excited to hear about what agoodie-goodielike me did to get myself into trouble.

Johnny explained to him what had happened. Dally listened intently and didn't interrupt him. When Johnny told him that he killed Bob, Dally smiled with pride and said, "good for you."

That commented concerned me... how many people has Dally killed??

"Sorry if we took you away from your party," Ponyboy apologized sheepishly.

"Shoot, kid, I was in the bedroom." Dally looked over his shoulder. It was funny the way he bluntly put that so I laughed. He eyed Ponyboy and snickered. "Glory, but your ears can get red, Ponyboy."

"I really don't need to hear about what you were doing in the bedroom, Dally." Ponyboy looked super uncomfortable, it just made the situation all the more amusing. I forgot for a second that we came to Dally for a reason.

"I wasn't doing anything like that, Ponyboy. I was tryna sleep." He explained that he was just in a fight and he rubbed his sore ribs. I saw a bruise plastered on the right side of his ribs that I didn't notice before. He looked at me and Pony and his thick eyebrows scrunched together. "Are you two wet?"

We said yes, chattering through our teeth. My arms were crossed to try to preserve my body heat but my clothes were sticking to my skin, nearly see-through.

"Glory hallelujah!" Dally grabbed Johnny's shoulder and pulled him into the horrible smelling house. The red lights shined off Dally's skull ring when he scratched his cheek. "You'll get pneumonia 'fore the cops ever get you."

The inside was hazy with cigarette smoke, and my eyes quickly adjusted to the red lights. We passed a juke box that was playing rock music. Buck was standing next to, eyeing us as we walked in. The kitchen on the left was packed. Pony walked slowly past the bar with the rest of us following and Dally was right behind me.

I glanced back over my shoulder and my jaw clenched when I saw thin lines of white powder on a table in the corner. One of the guys looked up and his black, daring eyes glared at me as if he was a raging bull. I noticed another guy was tightening his belt around his bicep, sinking his teeth into the aging leather to pull it tight. Dally quickly came up beside me and put his arm around me protectively and kept us walking, trying to get through as quickly as possible. Darry is right, this place is really bad news.

Dally dragged us upstairs to his bedroom. He tossed us towels and told us to take our shirts off. Ponyboy happily did so, but I wasn't as eager to flash my bra out to the world, and my shirt wasn't that wet. It was mainly just my pants. My shirt got wet at the end and damp on my front and my side from getting Pony out of the water. I dropped the soaking wet sweatshirt on the floor before accepting the towel.

"Dry off and wait here," Dally ordered. "At least Johnny's got his jean jacket. You ought to know better than to run away in just a sweatshirt, and a wet one at that. Don't you ever use your head?" Dally turned to me. "And you?" He looked me up and down. "You got practically nothing. You both oughta use your head when out in the cold." Dally left and we all sat on the bed.

"Wish I had me a weed," Johnny said, he laid back onto the bed.

"Cigarettes don't solve anything," I said. They knew how much I was against smoking, but they didn't care. They never listened. I just want them to live long, healthy lives. If only they could see the anti smoking commercials in my day...

"They certainly help," Ponyboy muttered.

I glanced around Dally's room. He had a Hank William's concert poster hanging on his wall, a lamp was on in the corner, and clothes were thrown around on the floor. Not much different from the last time I saw it. I also noticed a pair of black framed glasses on his nightstand. Last time I was here I asked about them, since I've never seen him wear glasses, and he ended up telling me that he sometimes uses them to read.

Dally came strolling in with a gun and a handful of cash. "Here." He handed the gun to Johnny. "The guns loaded. For Petes sake, Johnny, don't point that thing at me. Here's fifty bucks. That's all I could get outta Merrill tonight. He's blowin' his loot from the last race."

"Who is Merrill?" I asked.

"Merrill is Buck. Buck Merrill," Johnny explained.

"Oh." I knew that.

"Pony, do Darry and Sodapop know about this?" Dally asked.

Ponyboy shook his head solemnly.

"Boy howdy, I ain't itchin' to be the one to tell Darry and get my head busted." Dally sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Then don't tell him," Ponyboy said quickly.

"Pony, you have to tell your brother. He'll be worried sick," I said, still holding the towel at my waist.

"You can tell Soda. I'd hate to worry him. But I don't care if Darry worried himself grey-haired." Pony stared at the floor.

"Don't say that, Ponyboy," I scolded. He may not have liked his brother, but Darry deserved to know. He has been through enough.

"Here!" Dally said before we argued anymore. He shoved a shirt into both of our hands. Mine was grey while his was a plaid of blue and a white base color. Ponyboy and I both looked at our shirts, then each other. We both could've fit into one shirt! "It's Bucks—y'all aren't the same size as Buck, but it's dry."

Dally handed Ponyboy his own brown leather bomber jacket, and gave me an oversized jean jacket with wool-lining. "It'll get cold where you're going, but you can't risk being loaded down with blankets. Hop the three-fifteen freight to Windrixville, there's an old abandoned church on top of Jays Mountain. There's a pump in back so don't worry about water."

Dally used his necklace to strike his match before bringing it up to his cigarette. He shook the flame out and spoke with smoke leaking from between his lips.

"Buy a weeks supply of food as soon as you get there. This morning before the story gets out, and then don't so much stick your nose out the door. I'll be up there as soon as I think it's clear. Man, I thought New York was the only place I could get mixed up in a murder wrap."

It concerned me how fast Dally thought of all this. He is resourceful, I'll give him that. I heard Johnny made a small noise in his throat at the wordmurder. His hands were shaking as he was anxiously biting his nails.

I turned around away from the guys and pulled my t-shirt over my head and set it on the ground. I reached back and unclipped my bra, and tossed it onto the shirt. I used my hand to cover myself as I took a step backwards and grabbed the shirt that Dally brought for me.

"Wait, I don't understand. Johnny was the one who killed Bob. Why are Ponyboy and I mixed up in all of this?" I asked him over my shoulder while hugging the shirt to my bare chest.

"You both ran away from the scene of the crime. Since there were witnesses, those Socs are going to blame all three of you. You must do as I say if y'all don't want to be caught."

"But haven't you been to jail numerous times?" I asked as I put the shirt on and buttoned it up. I shimmied the wet jeans off and rubbed the towel against my leg.

"Yeah, so?" Dally's eyes lingered to my legs then back up to my eyes.

"That means you've been caught numerous times. How could we trust you?"

"What did you just say?" Dally asked sharply. Shadows that casted over his face made his features look sharper.

I fluffed my hair out of the shirt and repeated confidently, "how do we know that we won't just get caught like you do?"

"It's easier to hide other people than yourself, Bri. I do believe that I have a better plan than a goodie-goodie like yourself. Do you have a plan that is better than mine, sweetheart?"

I thought for a second, but the only solutions I could think of was stuff that caused us to surrender. I let out a small, "no."

"Didn't think so."

"Oh, wait, here's an idea. Why don't we just go to the cops and say it was self-defense?" I hissed.

"Oh,I'm sorry. Do youwantto go to jail?" He asked sarcastically. "I should have thought about that first. Saddle up, Princess, I hope you like gruel."

I grumbled, "whatever."

"Don't question him." Ponyboy nudged my shoulder.

"Could you get me a pair of pants?" I asked Dally. "Please."

Dally went off, and I discreetly went back to my jeans and dug out the bottle cap, and my phone. I wiped it dry with the towel and hid it under my leg. The shirt was long enough that I didn't need to use the towel to cover myself up with it anymore. Dally came back with an oversized pair of jeans and a big belt.

"This as the smallest pair I could find." He tossed them and I caught them both with one hand. He looked at my bare legs and gave a slight head nod, but I pretended not to notice. It's not like it's the first time they have seen me pantless.

"Who's the guy?" Dally asked.

"Huh?" I asked.

He took a drag of his cigarette then pointed to his own neck.

My breath caught in my throat. I could hear Bob's sad*stic laughter in my ears and his sloppy mouth sucking on my throat as he tried to drag me back to his car. I dipped my head down at the memory and I walked to the other side of the room, ignoring his question.

"What?" He asked.

"Dally," Johnny mumbled.

When it finally clicked, he looked at me and asked firmly, "who was it?"

I put the jeans on and rolled the pant legs up and scrunched my nose in annoyance to how big these jeans were. I tightened the belt as far as it would go, not really wanting to answer Dally's question.

"Who was it?!" He asked louder.

I turned around so I could slip my phone into the deep front pocket, and it was covered by the long shirt. I shoved my arms through the loose holes of the jean jacket and popped the collar.

"I'll kill him. I'll f*cking kill him," he spat.

"You're too late for that," I snapped back as I turned toward the guys.

Dally's eyes darted between me and Johnny. He asked, "was it him?"

We all knew thehimhe was talking about. Johnny looked down at his shoes and nodded.

Dally ran his fingers through his thick hair and blew a raspberry. He asked me, "are... uh... are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I stated, even though I was still a little shook up about it. I wasn't going to tell Dally, or anyone, that Bob groped me and didn't plan to stop there. Johnny might have known, but I don't think he was going to say anything either.

"We have to go," Ponyboy mumbled.

Dally agreed and he led us back to the door and flicked the porch light off. "Get goin'!" He patted my back and messed up Johnny's hair. "Take care, kiddos," he said softly.

"Sure, Dally, thanks." Ponyboy stammered and they were off into the night.

I watched them as they headed off down the road, but I stayed behind. I turned back and said, "Dally?"

Dally turned back to me and leaned against the door. He smiled cunningly and said, "never woulda thought I'd be gettin' the likes of you out of a deal like this."

"Neither did I," I chuckled emptily.

"I like when you wear my clothes." He winked.

"Don't get used to it." I looked down and my new attire and chuckled. Then my eyes met his and I said, "Dally, I tried to stop them."

"There ain't nothing that you coulda done. But I don't wanna be seein' you behind bars. Johnny neither. Same with Pony. I hate to make you guys go, but there ain't no other way. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be okay."

"Okay," he said softly. It didn't really sound like he believed me.

I pulled the bottle cap out of my pocket and handed it to him. "Here, give this to Two for me, please."

He took it from me gingerly and hid it in his palm. "I will."

"Are you going to tell Soda? Or Darry?" I asked.

"Shoot, doll. It ain't my place. Soda is gonna be worried about you to death, I imagine."

I chewed on my lip lightly, I felt guilty about just disappearing on everyone like that. It was a little relieving that at least someone knew what happened and where we were going, even if it was Dally.

"Thanks for helping us."

"Man, I wouldn't have left you guys hanging. You oughta get goin'. The train'll be comin' soon."

I smiled at him softly, and I couldn't help but rush into his arms. The arms of my jean jacket probably scratched at his bare skin, especially when I pulled him to me tightly. He stumbled back a little, probably confused.

"Woah," he exclaimed with a little chuckle. "You're trembling. It'll be okay. I'll see you soon, I promise."

"Do you really promise?" I asked. My voice was shaky. I felt his hand in my hair but I didn't let him go. I was afraid that this might be one of the last times I ever get to see him alive.

Dally pulled me off of him but he kept one hand on my shoulder as he brought up his pinky toward me. "I promise."

I sniffed and chuckled gently as I brought my pinky up and hooked it onto his. We shook them together and I smiled softly. Our pinkies slipped and with his hand on my shoulder, he pulled me back into him by slipping his arm around my neck. I didn't want to let him go.

"Just please promise me that you'll be careful."

"Why? You know something I don't?" He asked with a chuckle.

I took a breath and looked up at Dally. My lips twitched as I tried to figure out what to say, but ultimately I exhaled softly and said, "no."

I was so close to telling him. He would think that I'm clinically insane, and I probably am. He wouldn't believe me. I wouldn't believe me either.

"You don't have to worry about me none," he assured. "I will be more careful."

"Thanks, Dal." I smiled sweetly. He was probably lying to get me off his back, but it satisfied me for now.

I felt him kiss my cheek before he pulled me off of him again and he said, "you gotta go, or you'll miss the train then you ain't never gettin' outta here."

"Yeah, you're right. I should go," I said but had a hard time actually leaving. If we never go, then Johnny will never get crushed in the fire.

I slipped from Dally's arms and I ran off to catch up with Pony and Johnny, who were waiting for me under a street light. I looked back at the house, where Dally was watching us from the door, scratching the back of his head. When I got close enough to the boys, they kept running.

We got to the train tracks and hid in the brush, waiting for a train to come. We stayed voluntarily quiet. The only things I could hear was the crunch of the weeds under our feet and the grasshoppers chirping until the whistle from the train filled the air. You could hear the whistle blow a hundred miles away. The train came trucking down the track, but it was slowing down for its next stop.

Johnny whispered "now" and we all ran to the stationary open boxcar with a one way ticket to Windrixville. My arms were shaking as I pushed myself up and into the train, smashing my knee against the edge in the process. I inhaled sharply from the pain but Ponyboy put his hand over my mouth so I wouldn't make a sound. We crawled as fast as we could into the dark, before the railroad workers came to check out the boxcar. Chills went up my back when I heard rocks crunch under their feet as they walked closer to the boxcar. We held our breath when they poked their head in, and exhaled when he left. The boxcar shook when the train started to move again.

"The first stop'll be Windrixville." Johnny set the gun down on the ground by his legs. "I don't see why he gave me this. I couldn't shoot nobody."

Yeah well you stabbed someone and we didn't think you could do that either, Johnny-boy.

Everyone was very quiet. Ponyboy laid down and used Johnny's stretched out legs as a pillow. I leaned against the corner wall of the car and closed my eyes. My knee was throbbing. It was late, I was exhausted, and we were on the run. I subconsciously knew what I was getting myself into, but I wasn't fully prepared. No kid should ever go through this. Especially a young kid like Ponyboy. Johnny would go to to jail for murder, and we would be considered accomplices. It's the Socs word against ours.

I was happy how big of a help Dally was. Without him, we'd probably be caught by the police by now. Even though it's the right thing to do, going to jail is the last thing we needed, and I would never get back home. Running may result in a worse outcome though, legal-wise. It's too late now. There is only one way out of here now, and it's forward. We just have to keep moving forward. At the end of the day, we can only hope for tomorrow.

I stayed up thinking about how the rest of the story will play out until I got distracted by Ponyboy snoring and Johnny's teeth grinding and his heavy breathing. The gun was by Ponyboy's hand, and I didn't want it to accidentally go off. Using all the willpower I had, I grabbed the gun and put it safely out of the way of any harm. I wasn't sure if the safety was on, and I didn't know how to check. I slumped back into the corner and rested my head against the wall. The jacket felt like a warm hug and I fell asleep, dreaming about what else I could have done to stop any of this. In a way, I felt like this was my fault. But I knew that that wasn't possible. This is exactly how the book plays out the plot, without me.

Maybe this was always supposed to happen. Does that mean that Johnny and Dally dying are inevitable too? Will I not be able to change that either?

I woke up to Johnny and Ponyboy shaking me, because our stop was coming up. I'm a heavy sleeper, so they must have been shaking me for a while.

We jumped off the moving train and into a grass meadow. When I landed, my legs gave out from under me and I collapsed down into the grass. Ponyboy seemed to have flailed in the air, and when we landed he fell onto his back and he rolled a few times. We stayed there for a few seconds and caught our breath.

"Now, how do we find Jay Mountain?" Ponyboy asked.

"We should ask someone. The story won't be out in the paper yet," Johnny answered.

"Make it seem like you are a farm boy on a walk or something like that," I added.

"I had the same idea," Johnny said.

"But I don't look like a farm boy." Ponyboy ran his fingers through his hair. He calls it long, but it's not that long compared to the length of hair that guys have in 2017. "Do I look like a farm boy to you?!"

"I'll have to stay here. Both y'all can go down the road to ask the first person where Jay Mountain is. Ponyboy has more confidence than I do and they'll trust your feminine nature, Bri. Then come back. And for Petes sake, Ponyboy, run a comb through your hair and quit slouching down like a thug!"

Pony grabbed a comb from his back pocket and combed through his hair. "I guess I look okay, huh?"

"You know, you look an awful lot like Sodapop, the way you've got your hair and everything. I mean, except your eyes are green."

"You really do look just like him," I tacked on to Johnny's compliment.

"They ain't green, they're gray." Pony got red in the face and stood up. "And I look about as much like Soda as you do, Johnny. Bri, you're like a girl version of Soda."

I took that as a compliment, since Ponyboy always talks about how handsome Soda is. He isn't wrong, Soda is a good looking guy but he probably just said that so I wasn't left out.

We went walking over to a barbed wire fence. Johnny laughed at us as we struggled not to get pricked by the wire as we climbed over it. I'm not used to going over a fence without someone there to help me over it. I guess I'll have to rely on the muscle I've built up over the past few months.

We walked down a red dirt road, waiting for someone to pass us by. Ponyboy was still red in the face by our compliments. Pony's farm-boy era was set in motion when he put a piece of wheat between his teeth.

"I wonder what Darry and Soda are doing right now." Ponyboy yawned.

"I bet they are both worried sick of us. Especially you," I said, kicking a small pebble out of my way.

"Nah, Darry tolerates you more," he said.

"But you are his brother," I said.

"That doesn't mean anything." He stared at the long road ahead of us. "I'm just another mouth to feed."

"So am I," I pointed out. "Here is a scenario. If he didn't have enough money to feed you, me, and Sodapop, guess who he will kick out? Me. Because I'm not blood related, you are. You are one of the only reminders he has of your parents and you are his pride and joy."

"He sure don't act like it."

"He has an odd way of showing his love. It isn't through kisses and hugs, it's tough love." I shrugged.

"I bet Darry's sorry he ever hit me." He squished his lips together in anger.

"I'm sure he is. I bet it is one of his biggest regrets. He will get really worried when he hears about Johnny and the Soc."

"I know he will. I just don't want to think about what Soda will think when he finds out. I hate to worry Sodapop. He's all I got," Pony said.

"That's just not true. You have me, huh? You have Johnny, you have Steve, you have Two-Bit, you have Dally, you even have Darry. Darry will never stop loving you. Plus, you're just a kid. This is when you question everything and everyone." I shoved my hands into the deep pockets of the jean jacket. "Darry just cares about you and is way too over protective. That's all."

Ponyboy didn't answer. He was chewing on what I said. I didn't bring it up anymore, I knew how hard it was for him.

We found a guy with a sunburn shaped like a farmers tan, driving a green tracker. Ponyboy and I both jumped and waved our arms around to get his attention.

"Could you tell me where Jay Mountain is?" Ponyboy asked politely.

"Follow this road to that big hill over there." The farmer pointed down the path we were following. "That's it. Taking a walk?"

"Yessir," Ponyboy said.

"It's a great lovers lane." He winked. I couldn't keep myself from laughing while Ponyboy kept his composure. I cover to cover my mouth with my hand and turn my head so he didn't see.

"Thanks sir, we'll get right on that," he said with a straight face. The farmer chuckled and tipped an imaginary hat and went off in his tracker. Ponyboy and I turned around to get back to Johnny.

"You're a great liar, huh?" I was still smiling from what the farmer said.

"I really am. I dunno why though. Soda says it's because I read too much. But Two-Bit lies all the time and I have never once seen him open a book."

"I'm a really bad liar. I have a really big tell."

"Do tell, your tell." Ponyboy smiled at his own stupid joke.

"I can't help myself from smiling," I revealed.

"Good to know." He winked.

I wasn't attracted to Ponyboy, especially right now. He was just too young. If I would have came in 1968, it may have been a different story. He was like a little brother to me, I trusted him deeply.

We reached the familiar barbed wire fence and motioned Johnny to come. This time, we got to laugh as he struggled to get over the fence. We didn't laugh too much though, he was super stressed out and he is pretty small. He is a fragile guy.

We walked down the road, mostly in silence. We trudged through the rugged land. The closer we got to the top of the mountain, the steeper it got. I slept pretty long and hard for the entire train trip so I wasn't as groggy as Ponyboy and Johnny looked. Johnny stayed awake the entire night to make sure we got off at the right place. I'm sure it was easy for him. I would not have been able to sleep either if I killed someone.

It took forever, but we reached the church. It was small, old, abandoned, and covered in cobwebs and dust. We entered through a back window. We walked between the pews and laid down on the dusty stone ground. It smelled musty.

"Umf," Ponyboy grunted when he flopped onto the floor. Johnny stretched out beside him and laid his head on his arm. I saw Ponyboys lips part as if he was about to say something, then he immediately fell asleep. Johnny was out like a light too.

I grabbed my phone from my pocket and saw that it was still early in the morning. It was light outside though, about 6am. I was a little tired from our long walk up the mountain, but not enough to fall asleep again. Resting sounded like a good idea though.

Over and over, I kept going over the world we used to know before everything was set into motion of what would eventually kill Johnny and Dally. It wasn't perfect, but I wished I could just freeze those moments in time. Moments where all of us were happy, and where all our troubles blew away. We can only hope for a better tomorrow.

I knew that Johnny was going to die, which causes an emotional breakdown for Dally which causes his fate. I wanted to prevent it. I need to, but I was stuck, should I protect my friends and do everything in my power to not have them die? Should I change the past and have them survive? Or, do I let the natural events occur the way they were supposed to, allowing two young guys to die? Who knows what could happen if I changed the plot of the book.

I still had a week to figure it out... right?

Chapter 11: New Sunrise

Chapter Text

A few hours later

I peacefully awoke on my own. I fluttered my eyes open to reveal an empty church. The sun was pouring in from broken windows and the open doors, lighting up all the dust particles that were floating in the air. I sat up straight and cracked my sore back.

"Johnny? Ponyboy?" I called out. I realized that something fell off my chest and onto my legs, so I picked it up and noticed that it was the brown leather jacket that Pony got from Dally.

"Over here," I heard coming from the back.

When I stood up, I dusted myself off and followed the noise. I met Ponyboy on the back steps on the church and plopped down next to him. My entire body was sore, what I wouldn't give for one of Soda's famous massages right about now, or one of Two-Bit's jokes about how I'm getting old.

"Where's Johnny?" I asked, looking around.

"He went to get supplies."

"That's good."

"I'm hankering for a cheese sandwich," Ponyboy said.

"I'll take anything at this point, I'm starving," I said.

He sighed. "Me too."

"Here's your jacket." I handed it to him.

He smiled and held the jacket close. "You were shivering."

"Thank you," I said softly. He's a really sweet kid. He has such a good heart.

"You know, I've never been outside of Tulsa before."

"Never?"

He shook his head. "No one really ever leaves Tulsa. Most people get stuck there for life. Darry had a ticket outta there... but he gave it all up." He was silent for a moment, as if he was reflecting. Then he asked, "what's California like?"

I haven't been to California in years, but I remember it fondly. I said, "it's hot. Really hot. I lived in a big city, so there were a lot of people there. It has great food, and the culture is pretty easy going. I used to live near the beach so I'd go all the time."

"Do you miss it?"

I shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, sometimes."

"What made you come to Tulsa of all places?" He asked.

"First place that made me feel welcome, I guess," I stated softly. I had to be careful about what I said.

"Think you'd stay here forever? You know, if you had the choice to leave?"

I chewed on the inside of my cheek for a moment to think about his question. He asked me if I would stay in Tulsa forever, but I took it as would I stay in 1965 forever. Even though it's nearly an impossible question, I still had an answer. "If I had the chance to leave, I think I would. I need to be where I belong."

Ponyboy had beads of sweat forming at his hairline. It was chilly outside so he shouldn't have been sweating like that.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, I flung my arm around his shoulders and scooted closer to him.

"I'm just letting my imagination get the best of me. And I'm plumb-tired." He sniffed. I knew he tried to act tough in front of the gang, but he was still a young kid with feelings that he just can't keep bottling up. I always heckle him about talking to me, because that is the healthy way to deal with things. I've been trying to help him come to terms about this taboo way of dealing with problems, and it is slowly working.

All the boys have come to me one way or another. Whether it be a girl problem, or a family issue, I've made it known that they are always welcome and encouraged to talk to me. I've become the informal diary of the entire gang. We always end up sitting at the table with tea or hot chocolate and just talk for hours. They probably feel comfortable because I'm a girl, and they know I'd never tell anyone.

The only time I talked to Darry was when I was doing homework at the table. He came barging in when no one else was home and let everything he has ever been keeping in his mind out all at once, I counted ten minutes before he took a breath. I wasn't able to say anything and he ended with, "good talk", and we never discussed it again.

I really do love Darry. Ponyboy thinks Darry is bossy, controlling, and mean, and he always complains about him to me. I listen and understand his frustrations, but then I always try to remind him of what Darry is going through. He lost his parents too, and he became a father to two teenagers at the same time. He doesn't know what he's doing, and he's terrified of doing the wrong thing so he tries to suppress his emotions which ends up coming out in bursts of frustration and aggression. I don't think Darry is a mean or angry guy, he is just scared and grieving.

"If you ever have a problem, you can always talk to me or Johnny. We won't harass you like the others. It's not good to bottle this up."

"Yeah, yeah I know." He had an affiliative smile.

"What's up?"

"It's just... everything. I have all this stuff on my mind, but I just can't seem to let it go. I don't want to bother you with it."

"No, come on. You can tell me."

Ponyboy sighed and said, "I don't know how to explain it. I'm surrounded by my friends, but I still feel alone. I feel like when my parents died, they left me all alone. Then there's Darry. He was supposed to go far. He was in college, and had all these big plans. He was a big football star, you know. But life changed all of that. It's not fair. His dream fell apart in an instant and it's no one's fault. Now he just works his life away. And now with all of this... now I feel likeIam the one being thrown around like some pawn."

"I'm sorry," I said with a small voice.

"It makes me wonder if the universe or whatever is out there already knows the bad stuff it wants to put us through. Were my parents always supposed to die? Or was there a chance they could have lived? Was Bob always going to die last night? Were we destined to jump that train and hide here? What's supposed to happen after this? Is there more to life than what's in front of me?"

I looked up at the sky. The sun was shining overhead like gold. I thought about his question, but I've been asking myself the same thing ever since Bob died. I said softly, "I don't know."

For some reason I keep forgetting that they are orphans. All three brothers were super close with their parents. I can't imagine how they felt when they found out. They probably blamed themselves, praying to do that day over so they could beg their parents not to leave... but I think everything happens for a reason. Even though it's terrible, they had to die that day.

"I've got plans to get out of that town. I want to leave it all behind and never look back. That's why I like going to the movie house, you know. When I look up at that screen, the entire world just melts away. For a moment, I ain't worried about a thing," he told me. I don't think he's told anyone about this.

"Thinking about running away? I mean, if this never happened?" I asked, looking at him.

He sighed softly. "Sometimes. I don't know. I know I shouldn't, but when I turn eighteen, I wanna get out of here. I've been told that I'm a grease for life, but I don't know if I wanna be."

"Okay," I said softly. I know it'll kill Darry, and maybe Pony will change his mind in the future. But for now, all I can do is support him.

"I can't stand it no more, Bri. Why are guys like us the ones getting beaten down and attacked by those Socs just for being ourselves? Having greasy hair is a crime now. Heck, I sure am sick of it."

"Has it always been like that?" I asked.

"For as long as I can remember. And it's always gonna be like that," he said.

As someone with insight into the future, I wished I could tell him that things will get better. The divide between greasers and socs will disappear, to the point where neither exist. There were so many things I wished I could tell him, but I never can. I tried to ease his anger by saying, "the world moves pretty fast."

"Life just ain't like in the movies or the books I like to read. I know it's stupid."

"It's not stupid," I said. Little does he know that his life right now is literally a book and a movie.

"Here, if you ain't born into money, you're nothing. I don't want to be nothing anymore. I'm tired of being on the outside looking in."

"You are not nothing."

"I just always feel like I'm in the way. Darry just about yells my head off every chance he gets, and everything I do just gets me in trouble."

"Darry worries about you, he just doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. I'm sure it's killing him that he doesn't know where we are."

"Tough," Pony snapped.

"Pony, I think you're really sweet. You're thoughtful, imaginative, creative, you're super smart, and you have so much heart. You are sensitive, caring, and gentle and those are amazing qualities. You're a really good kid, Pony. I don't think you should be so critical of yourself."

He sniffed and used his palm to wipe his eyes. "What about you? How are you doing?"

I wasn't really used to the guys asking me about how I felt. None of them really do that mushy-gushy stuff, and frankly I'm not going to be the one to initiate it when it comes to talking about myself. Ponyboy is an incredibly empathetic person, and he is too empathetic for me to talk to him. I might say something I really want to tell him, but I can't.

"As good as I can be," I finally said.

We heard the sound of someone stomping through the dead leaves in front of the church. Ponyboy and I both scrambled up to our feet and we ran inside and hid behind the door. We heard a long and low whistle that ended with a high note. I didn't know what was going on, but Ponyboy returned the whistle and darted back to the steps.

"Ponyboy! Careful!" I warned, following him, but I didn't run. I saw Ponyboy lose his footing and crash down the steps and he landed right in front of Johnny. He propped himself on his elbows and didn't seemed fazed at all.

"Hey, Johnny. Fancy meetin' you here," Ponyboy chuckled. I laughed too. I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorframe.

"I swear, Ponyboy, you're gettin' to act more like Two-Bit everyday," Johnny laughed.

"Who's acting?" Ponyboy asked. I didn't see his face, but I knew he was co*cking an eyebrow like how Two-Bit does. Or attempting too. He sprang up to his feet and asked, "what'd you get?"

"Come inside, you guys. Dally told us to stay inside," I commanded. The boys came running in and went straight to a dusty table. Johnny brushed some of the dust off with the sleeve of his jacket and set a brown bag of supplies on the table. He shimmied off his jacket and started taking things out of the bag one by one and placed them neatly on the table.

"A weeks supply of bologna, two loaves of bread, a box of matches..."

I grabbed Ponyboy's arm as he started to move it toward the bag, intending to rip it open. Ponyboy looked at me confused. I shook my head no. He understood and patiently waited for Johnny to be done telling us what he got.

"Gone with the Wind—"

"Wait, what?" Ponyboy's face lit up and snatched the paperback book from Johnny's hands. "How'd you know I've always wanted to read it?" He inspected the cover.

"I remembered you sayin' something about it once. And me and you went to see that movie, 'member? I thought you could maybe read it out loud and help kill time or something."

"Gee, thanks!" Ponyboy put the book on the table and Johnny continued to take the stuff out.

"Peroxide, a deck of cards..." Pony's face dropped, "Johnny, you ain't thinking of..."

"We're gonna cut our hair, and you are both going to bleach yours." Johnny pulled his knife out. "They'll have our descriptions in the paper. We can't fit 'em."

"Oh, no!" Ponyboy covered his hair with his hands. "No, Johnny, not my hair!"

"Yeah, Johnny, I spent too long trying to grow this out." I held my long hair in my hands. Last time I cut it was in fourth grade, biggest mistake of my life. It finally grew out and now it's down to my ribs. It was my pride and joy. I haven't even gotten a trim since I've been in 1965.

"I'm gonna cut mine too, and wash the grease out, but I can't bleach it. I'm too dark skinned to look okay blonde. Oh, come on guys, it'll grow back," Johnny pleaded.

"Okay," Ponyboy said defeatedly. "Just get it over with."

"Oh, hell no, not me. Absolutely not. I'll just put my hair up or something. I spent eight years trying to grow this out, and I'm not going to waste it."

"We gotta at least cut it, Bri," Johnny begged.

I wish I didn't look in his big brown eyes. I saw the plead, and it made me feel guilty. I rolled my eyes and huffed, "fine. Not too much though."

"Fine." Johnny reluctantly agreed. He set his pocketknife on the table beside the peroxide.

"Before you start to hack his hair off, let me help you guys wash the grease from your hair," I offered.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Johnny said. Ponyboy was miserably silent.

We all went to the pump in the back and they threw their heads forward and I pumped freezing water onto their hair and helped them rinse out all the grease. Johnny ran back into the church and when he came back he handed me a bar of soap. Ponyboy went first, then Johnny.

"Hey, Ponyboy, take a comb and go through your hair. Smooth it out," I ordered as I was pumping water onto Johnny's dark hair.

I had Ponyboy sit down after he had combed it and Johnny handed me his knife.

"Are you sure you want me to cut your hair?" I asked. I knew that I was going to do a better job than Johnny, but I needed to make sure that he was certain so he didn't hate me later on.

"Hurry up 'fore I change my mind," Ponyboy answered.

"Did you grab any scissors?" I asked Johnny. He shook his head.

I flipped the knife out and sectioned some of his hair between my fingers. I brought the edge of the blade to the strands and I carefully sawed his hair off.

"Not too short, Bri, please," he begged.

I used my fingers to protect Ponyboys neck from the blade, I got a few cuts on my fingers, but by the time I was done, he looked decent. Not great, just decent.

"Can I see what I look like now?" Ponyboy asked.

"No, we gotta bleach it first," I said. I already knew he was going to loathe it.

I poured the bleach onto Ponyboy's hair and used plastic bags to protect my hands from the chemical. I scrubbed at Ponyboys hair until every last strand was covered in bleach. We had Ponyboy sit in the sun for fifteen minutes until it dried.

I gave the same technique to Johnny. His hair looked decent too. I was proud of myself, first hair I have ever cut that wasn't my Barbies hair in 2006.

When it was my turn, I sat on the back steps with Johnny behind me with the knife. I begged him to not cut it too short, but all he did was tell me to hold still. I felt him grab a section of my hair and start to saw it off. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for it to be over.

"I don't think I cut enough, you don't look much different," Johnny stated.

I reached back and felt my hair with a gasp. The ends were ragged, and he cut it to my shoulder blade. I pulled it in front of my shoulders and it was barely longer than my collarbone. "You cut off so much!"

"It'll grow back. I think we gotta use the peroxide on you, Bri."

"No, I'll just cut myself bangs or something." I really liked the style of curtain bangs that I've seen in the magazines, so I was going to see if I could replicate that. I could get by with a little haircut but I could not accept dying my hair. If it turned orange or brassy I would look horrendous. I refuse to completely ruin my hair for this.

"Here." Johnny handed me the blade, which I knew was acceptance to my alternative suggestion.

Johnny found an old cracked mirror for Ponyboy and I so we could see ourselves. Ponyboy did not look too pleased, and I couldn't stop running my hands through my hair and looking back to see where he cut it to.

I held the blade in my left hand and used my right to bring forward the hair I was going to need to cut. My hand was shaking, which made me even more nervous because I needed this to be as neat as possible since it's by my face. I separated the section of hair in the middle, taking one of the triangle sections to the other side of my face. I took the pocket knife and used the reflection in the broken mirror and started cutting, using my jaw as a reference.

I was nervous, so the first couple of cuts kept the hair longer than what bangs would be, but they can just be some fancy face framing pieces. I sectioned my hair again, and used the same technique to actually cut them into curtain bangs. I dropped the hair to the ground and smoothed them out. They didn't look bad, they looked like actual curtain bangs and honestly I didn't mind them. I just hoped I looked different enough to Johnny.

"Sorry, Ponyboy, blonde just isn't your color." I tried to lighten the mood. "But it'll grow back pretty quick. I promise."

"We don't look like ourselves." Pony studied himself in the mirror then studied Johnny. "Hey, Johnny, you have eyebrows!"

"Come on, Ponyboy, it's just hair," Johnny stated.

"It took me a long time to get my hair the way I wanted it. Now it's like a Halloween costume that we can't take off," Ponyboy pouted and tears fell out of his eyes. I understood, as a Pisces I wanted to be crying too. It's been stressful lately, and a Greasers long hair is their trademark.

"I'm sorry I cut your hair off, Pony," I said solemnly.

"Oh, it ain't that. I mean, not all of it. I'm just a little spooked. I really don't know what's the matter. I'm just all mixed up."

"Yeah, I understand. Things are changing so fast, I can't keep up," I said.

"This is my fault." Johnny stood up and started to pace around the pews. "For bringin' a little thirteen year old kid and a girl along. You both ought to go home. You can't get in any trouble. You didn't kill him."

"No!" Ponyboy screamed. "I'm fourteen! And we are in it as much as you are."

"Yeah, Johnny. The Socs are witnesses and they'd recognize all three of us in a heart beat and throw all of us in jail. We are in this together," I reassured, wishing to break out inWe're All In This TogetherfromHigh School Musical, but it wasn't the time.

Ponyboy started to cry. Most people would tell him to man up, but Johnny and I let him cry. He is just a kid.

"I didn't mean it like that, Ponyboy. Don't cry, Pony, we'll be okay. Don't cry." Johnny sat next to Ponyboy and let him cry himself to sleep. Johnny fell asleep resting his head on top of Pony's head.

Watching them sleep made me tired, I didn't know why I was so tired. I felt very overwhelmed and mentally drained. I licked my chapped lips and leaned down to Ponyboy's legs, using them as a pillow as I drifted off myself.

I woke up to Ponyboy trying to carefully removing his legs from under my head. My head smacked into the hard ground and I grunted, rubbing the bumped part of my head.

"Sorry, Bri, are you okay?" Ponyboy asked with his hand hovering over my back.

"Bro," I grunted.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." I sat up and leaned against the wall. "What time is it?"

"Not sure. It's night time though," Ponyboy said. I looked around and it was dark. No sunlight came through the windows. "I'm all cried out now. I ain't going to be crying no more."

"Good for you." I yawned, sounding a little more sarcastic than anticipated. I drowsily laid back down, closed my eyes and asked, "is that all?"

"Are you thirsty? I'm thinking about getting some water."

"Sure," I said, but I didn't really comprehend what I was saying. I just didn't want to be rude.

By the time Pony came back, I was asleep.

We really didn't know what to do with our time. I was constantly replaying the events of the night in the park in my head, and beating myself up over the stuff I could have done to prevent it. I had the power and the knowledge to change the outcome for all of us. I guess I wasn't using my head.

We spent the next few days in the church. Boring as hell. Ponyboy would readGone with the Windto us, and I wasn't too fond of it. Johnny was though, he loved it. The boys got used to me mumbling and humming random songs to occupy myself, and I tried to stick with songs that they knew. We also played so many games of Poker, I lost track of how many I won and lost. I mainly lost though. If I won one, it was probably because the guys let me win.

I wished we had a portable DVD player and a super long movie to keep us occupied. LikeTitanicor something. But, those haven't been invented yet so we are stuck with the boring book and a deck of cards. I got so bored I picked all of my red nail polish off. At some point, Johnny carved our names into one of the wooden church pews with his switchblade. We didn't go toward the front of the church much because it's seen from the road and we were constantly listening to the distant voices or the sounds of horses stepping in the dirt that made us jump and quiet down.

The one thing I tried not to think about was Soda. I missed him so much, it hurt. It was hard not to imagine what he was thinking when he heard about Ponyboy, Johnny, and I disappearing after everything that had happened. I went back to a funny memory of him instead to stop spiraling. During the summer, Darry and I had to bust him and Two-Bit out of jail because they decided to do flips in the air and walk on their hands all around the city. Apparently they were disturbing the peace. Going down to the jailhouse to identify them and bail them out was one of the funniest days of my entire life. Even Darry couldn't keep it together, he thought it was so stupid.

Just like back home, Pony and I would get into lighthearted debates on what kind of pop drink was the best. Being the Pepsi addict he is, he would argue that Pepsi was best while I was on the side of co*ke. It helped kill time.

His favorite argument was that Coca-Cola was made with cocaine, so I would say, "irrelevant."

"What do you meanirrelevant?"

"They haven't used cocaine in like..." I would have to think about when cocaine was taken of Coca-Cola's recipe but I could never remember off the top of my head. "A long time."

"You know what drink has never had cocaine in it?" He would ask rhetorically. I glare at him with my jaw clenched as I wait for him to smugly answer his own question. "Pepsi."

"It's still gross," I'd mumble. Smartass.

For fresh air, we went to the back of the church and sat on the steps. We could smell the sweet perfume of the mountain grass and it was refreshing. It stung my nose, how crisp and non-polluted the air was. The back faced the East, so we had very pretty sunrises, but I know that sunsets were Ponyboys favorite. The colors are warmer and softer in a sunset. If you sat on the steps and just looked out, the mountain dropped and you could see for miles, like being on top of the world. We could see little stripes from the highways and little dots that were little houses and the moving dots were cars. I wasn't sure why, but breathing in the fresh air and looking at the colors the sky produced recharged my batteries and allowed me to clear my head.

I'm a heavy sleeper, but I can be an early riser if I wanted to. I liked to watch the sunrise because it was a signal of a brand new day. A fresh start. I would wake up and quietly make my way to the back steps and watch by myself. Afterwards, I would meditate a bit and come back inside.

One day, I got up a little earlier than usual and the sun was still hiding well under the horizon. I went to the water pump and splashed some cold water on my face before going back to the steps. I laid my head in my hand and caressed my hair. It was getting greasy, I really needed to wash it soon before we ran out of soap. Ireallyneeded a shower. Good thing this thick jacket masked the horrendous body odor I was certain I was forming. I was on my phone, looking up the book and trying to find a copy of it. My phone was still acting as if it was in 2017, I had service and everything. I was finding articles that haven't been written yet, but the date changed when I came to 1965.

Looking out upon the vast open air where mountains touched the ever glowing sky, my mind drifted to the longing of being back with the gang, clinging to how things used to be. I could close my eyes and imagine myself being back in any moment from not so long ago. I could see myself, so young and carefree in this place in time where everything felt like it could last forever. I'm beaming, and my heart feels so full. I'm laughing, the rays of the golden sun are kissing my face, and I'm as free as the warm summer breeze. I am where I felt the love and companionship with everyone around me, feeling protected, and infectious laughter fills my ears. Everything is golden.

A smile is stuck on my face as I walk alongside Soda to whatever adventure we were going on next. I'm gazing up at him tenderly, not acknowledging the rambunctious laughter and loud talking around us. With him, it's just us. It was impossible to not think about what we could be if I wasn't born too late. I long to have him hold me in his arms, caress me, and love me until the day I die but it never can be.

I turn and see Dally gazing back at me. He blows the smoke out of his mouth and flashes me a bad-boy grin. He runs his long, strong fingers through his fluffy hair, making me imagine him holding my own hands, picking me up, gently but firmly pulling me to him for a first kiss. He is caressing the back of my neck, burying his hands into my hair, gripping my hips...

"What are you doing up?" Ponyboy's voice asked from behind me. I jumped out of my skin and pulled my thoughts out of the gutter. I fumbled my phone around before hiding it in my pocket.

"Oh, just waiting for the sunrise." I cleared my throat.

What had gotten into me? My crush on Soda had been successfully controlled through months of reminding myself that we come from two very different worlds, and it was never meant to be. But now Dally has slid himself into the front of my mind. But why him? He cheats, he steals, he's a liar, he gets horribly drunk, and he gets into pointless fights. He's annoying, infuriating, stubborn, irresponsible, and hard-headed. But at the same time, he does have a good heart, he's exciting, he's mysterious, he's confident, and he's a fantasy. And he's so attractive and somehow got me infatuated with him.

"Mind if I join you?" Ponyboy sat next to me and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and took out a cigarette.

"Go for it." I fluffed my hair and took a deep breath, taking in the crystal clear air. I had gotten used to the smell of cigarette smoke, it wasn't my favorite smell, but I could tolerate it.

"Your hair looks good," he said.

"Thanks," I mumbled while running my hand through my hair and pulling it forward over my shoulder. I squeezed the ends of my hair just to feel how choppy and jagged it was.

"I mean it."

"Thanks, Pony," I said softly, not believing him. "So does yours."

"I feel like I've been chewed up and spit out," he said.

"When we get real scissors to it and you style it with a comb and some grease, you'll look great," I told him earnestly.

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, guess so."

A thin cloud of mist covered the stripes and dots that I used to see the day before. As the golden sun came up, it touched the sky with gold and the clouds turned pink like cotton candy. The best view is definitely at the top of this mountain. It left us in a wide-eyed haze.

"The only thing that would make that better is if I had a hot chocolate," I said dreamily. I love hot chocolate in the morning, I'm not much of a coffee drinker.

"I want one too," Pony said. Then he asked me, "how's your knee?"

I rolled my pant leg up, just barely getting it past my tender knee. After smashing it against the side of the train car, it was a dark purple and black. It hurt to touch it. Since it's been a few days it's faded to green and yellow, and it's just tender now. Ponyboy took a look at my bruise before I rolled my pant leg down again and I said, "it's getting better."

"Golly, that sure was pretty," Johnny said when he came up behind us.

My knee? My eyebrow co*cked up in confusion.

"Yeah." Ponyboy sighed.

"The mist was what was pretty. All gold and silver," Johnny said.

I smiled to myself at my silly little mistake. He wasnottalking about my knee.

"Uhmmmm." Ponyboy attempted to blow a smoke ring and failed.

"Too bad it couldn't stay like that all the time."

"Nothing gold can stay," Ponyboy said, dramatically looking out into the distance. He is about to recite the poem, isn't he?

"What?" I asked. I regretted it as soon as I said it.

"Natures first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold,

Her early leafs a flower,

But only so an hour,

Then leaf subsides to leaf,

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day,

Nothing gold can stay."

"Where'd you learn that?" Johnny looked mesmerized.

"Robert Frost wrote it, right?" I asked. I thought I remember reading that poem again in English class recently.

"Yeah, he did," he said, "how'd you know? You don't seem like the poem-loving type."

"Yeah, I'm not a big fan of poems, but that's a good one. I had to do a project on it for school."

I wish we could always stay gold.

"You know, I never noticed colors and clouds and stuff until you kept reminding me about them. It seems like they were never there before," Johnny said slowly. He was leaning against the side of the church.

I glanced over at Johnny, I think this is one of his last days alive. Perhaps his last full day alive. From now on, whenever I see a sunrise or a sunset I'm going to think of him. I'm going to miss him. I'm going to think of Dally, and how he probably will never see a sunset in his life. Come morning, I'll be watching the sunrise and he will be clinging to life in a hospital. But there was something in the orange that told me that this wasn't over.

I started to humStay Gold, which is the song that plays in their movie. I only did it to fill the air with something besides silence, as I often had been doing the past few days. I totally forgot about that song until Ponyboy recited the poem.

"What's that?" Ponyboy asked, trying to figure out what song I was softly humming.

Sometimes we played a game where we guess what songs we were humming, or try to sing it backwards. When I would be losing, I'd sing songs ahead of their time and say they were from Canada. Was that wrong?

"It's this song... I was reminded of it from your poem..." I tried not to give too much information about it. It hasn't been written yet.

"Are there words to it?" Johnny asked.

"No." I sucked my lips in.

"Yeah, there is," Pony stated confidently.

"How would you know?" I asked while squinting at him.

"You're smiling."

"So?"

"You're lying."

"Big deal."

"Come on, Bri. Why don't you sing it?" Ponyboy asked. The sun shined on Ponyboys eyes and illuminated them, I could see them sparkling flecks of gold in his green eyes and there was hope. His eyes weren't dead, like Dally's.

"Because I sound like a wounded hippo when I sing." I laughed. "No."

"Come on, don't be a chicken," he said, "it ain't like we never heard you sing before."

I scrunched my face up and laughed, "you haven't."

"Uh-huh," Johnny said with a nod.

"At least say it. I wanna know." Ponyboy playfully nudged my shoulder.

"You are annoying," I told him.

"I know. And I've got all the time in the world to be annoying." Pony grinned.

"Alright, alright." I gave in. "I don't know the words too well, I just really remember the tune."

The boys were waiting patiently for me to run the song in my head so I could remember how it started. I could hear it play in my head from a four year old memory, so it wasn't the most accurate.

"Weseize upon that momentfromlong ago, one breath away and there you will be, so young and carefree, again you will see, uh...so gold.Let'ssteal away into that way back when, you thought thatthisall would last forever,butnothing can ever... stay gold," I said, knowing that I was and will be missing some words here and there. I had not heard that song in years, so all I could really remember was the tune and my head tried to fill in the lyrics with what I remembered.

"But it can be,whatwe can see, so vividly,there'sa memory. You say yes... no,yes you say, so must the day, too fade away, and leave a ray of sun, so gold," I recalled.

"Is there more?" Pony asked, tucking his knees to his chest. He would love this song.

"Yeah... um,life isjusta twinkling of an eye, butfilled with sorrow and compassion, though not imagined, all things that happen, will age too old, throughgold." I finished saying it. I felt like I just performed the most boring monologue in the world.

"Shoot, where'd you learn that?" Ponyboy was still processing the words to the song. He seemed to really appreciate the message of the song, while Johnny seemed like he would have rather heard the tune.

"It was in a movie," I said vaguely.

About you guys.

"What movie?"

"Eh, not important." I said, debating on going to my normal excuse and calling it a Canadian movie.

"I want to watch it," Ponyboy pleaded.

"It's not very popular, I strongly doubt that you've heard of it." I once again scratched my lip to cover up my smile.

"But what's it called," Johnny asked.

"It's calledThe Outsiders." I blurted. I didn't really know what else to call it, I panicked. I've had a long, hard week and I'm starving. My brain isn't exactly working properly.

"The Outsiders? Huh, you were right. I've never heard of it." Ponyboy shrugged. "That's a cool title."

"It's a Canadian movie." I panicked again.

"Why are all the cool songs and movies from Canada? I should make my way up there when this is all over," Pony said as he grabbed a pebble from the ground and threw it over the edge of the mountain.

"Well, I hope that you both enjoyed hearing my speaking voice. Angelic, right?" I giggled and slapped my knee, like a white dad, before standing up. I was careful that I accidentally didn't sing any part of that song. I love to sing, don't get me wrong but only when I'm in my car by myself, but my shower head is also very impressed.

"Most angelic I've ever heard," Ponyboy laughed.

"Man, I'm so hungry my belly thinks my throat's been cut," Johnny stated.

"Me too," I grumbled. I stood up and shook some of the dirt off my jeans.

I walked back into the church and stopped at the table. I reached into the brown paper bag full of supplies and grabbed some bologna, shoving it in my mouth and plugging my nose to avoid tasting it. I was sick and tired of bologna. It made me feel like I was eating slimy rubber. I ate it sparingly because the smell alone made me nearly gag. I wished that Johnny got ham or turkey instead. Why bologna? I hated it before this trip, and I despised it now.

Later that day, Ponyboy got sick from smoking too many cigarettes. Johnny and Dally are really the only ones in the gang that continuously chain smoke without getting sick. Johnny warned him about it, but Pony didn't listen. He was curled up in the corner of the church while Johnny and I were sitting on the back steps of the church. Johnny was readingGone with the Windto me while I laid down across one of the steps, I was beyond bored. Listening to that book being read for nearly a week straight made me want to pull my hair out.

The sound of a familiar long and low whistle that ended with a high note echoed throughout the church. It sounded far away though.

"Was that Ponyboy?" Johnny asked.

"I don't think so." I sat up straight and leaned into the church. I saw the little ball of Pony who curled himself up, and he was still lying on the floor. He was asleep.

"It was probably nothing."

I groaned and I laid down across the step but out of Johnny's space. I threw my arm over my eyes and I said, "I want to take a shower so bad."

"Me too, I smell bad enough to gag a maggot."

"Yeah, I feel disgusting."

We heard the whistle again, this time it made me uncover my eyes and pick up my head a little but then it went quiet. I thought it sounded just a little closer, but I wasn't certain.

"Why do you guys make that sound?" I asked.

"It meanswho's there. It is used by us and the Shepard gang," Johnny answered and turned the page.

We decided to ignore it, it was probably just the distant whistle from the train. Johnny continued to read me the book and I started to nod off. It's best if I just sleep. I was hangery and didn't want to take it out on the boys.