Hello

Life for a greaser in Tulsa Oklahoma is never an easy thing. We are looked down upon by adults and harassed by our peers and that’s not even mentioning the fact that we have just enough money to get by, and that’s if we’re lucky. I never could understand why people are mean to those who aren’t as lucky as them; from my experience people seem to have a learned lack of compassion. It’s as if it is drilled into our heads at a young age that the underdog is something to fear, to look down upon. If you’re not ‘keeping up with the Jones’s’ it’s because of a lack of motivation, not because of a lack of resources. Nobody knows that better than my friends and I.

My brother Johnny and I grew up in an abusive household; our parents were always fighting and our father taking out his anger on us. The first time I remember him getting violent with one of us was when I was six and Johnny was seven. Waking up in the middle of the night to an intense argument in the living room, Johnny and I shared a room so I tiptoed over to his bed to find him already cowering in a ball shaking in fear. It occurs to me now that he had already been the subject of our fathers temper before this. We huddled together until the house fell silent and footsteps crept up the stairs and into our room, the door was slammed shut behind the hulking shadow in the entryway—our father—and Johnny was thrown to the ground and brutally attacked. It was scary to know the man I had spent so much time with as a child was capable of doing this to his own son, and not long after that he turned on me.

Johnny has been through a lot in his sixteen years of life, probably more than anybody else in the gang. He’s been the subject of not only our father’s abuse but also of the rich kids. He’s an easy target, scared of his own shadow and not willing to stand up for himself no matter what the circumstances. Sometimes I wonder if he doesn’t react because he’s too afraid to or because he wants to die. I worry about him, what if someday he does something drastic? If you get to know him though he’s the biggest sweetheart, all the guys in the gang are really, you just have to get past the rough exterior. He’s a jumpy kid, not somebody you want to sneak up behind, but he always knows what to say and he’s fiercely loyal.

The Curtis brothers are really the heart of our gang. Darrel Curtis is the oldest and wisest of the three, he’s twenty years old, very built and works on houses for a living. After their parents died he sort of had to grow up fast in order to take care of his younger siblings. Honestly the only thing keeping him from being a soc, one of the spoiled rich kids, is the rest of the gang and how much he cares for us. Before his parents died he was quarter back of the school’s football team and had a full football scholarship for the spring. He had to give that up though so his brothers wouldn’t be thrown into the system. Sodapop is the second oldest of the boys, he’s also a sweetheart, despite the fact that he has the type of movie star good looks which could allow him to be a huge asshole. He dropped out of school last year because he didn’t feel he was smart enough. I think he’s smarter than he gives himself credit for, he just didn’t want to apply himself to the work. So he’s only sixteen years old and works at the local DX gas station. Ponyboy is the youngest and the dreamiest of the brothers, not in the looks department—though he’s only fourteen and I think he’s going to grow up to look like Soda. He spends most of his spare time reading and watching movies, something him and I have in common, and I love that we are able to have deep philosophical conversations—something I couldn’t do with any of the other boys.

Two-bit is the joker of the group, he has a hilarious sense of humor and shows it to everyone he comes into contact with. His real name is Keith Matthews but he earned his nickname from his deep desire to put his ‘two-bits’ into everything. He’s definitely a character, at eighteen and a half he’s still a junior in high school, he doesn’t go there to learn though—he does it for the kicks. Steve Randle is Sodapop’s best friend besides me, he’s a year older than him and they both work at the DX station and have the same passion for automobiles. He’s a hard one to get to know, and the only person who’s seen his soft side is Sodapop, I reckon. Maybe his girlfriend Evie but I’m not exactly the expert of their relationship. He’s pretty mean to me and Pony, Pony because he’s Sodas kid brother and he thinks he’s a nuisance and me because I’m a girl and I’m not afraid to talk back to him.

Dallas Winston. He’s the hardest person in the gang for me to try and explain. He’s just an enigma, not to mention that as of recently I’ve become infatuated with him. He’s originally from Tulsa but he moved to New York for a few years and moved back a couple years ago. As a result he has this tuff (tuff means cool where as tough means rough, if that makes sense) accent. A lot of the boys in the gang are scared of him; nobody wants to get him upset. Up until recently I thought they were crazy for this, in fact he’s always been the one person I could confide in, but when he came back from jail things changed. I’ve suddenly become very aware of how good-looking he is, can’t stop thinking about him, and when he’s around it’s as if I become mute.

This is a problem on many different levels. For one thing, Johnny and Sodapop would blow a gasket if they knew. Johnny puts Dallas on a pedestal, but that doesn’t mean he wants his little sister to date him, he knows the kind of guy he can be in regards to girls. Sodapop also wouldn’t want me with him for the same reason, besides I think he kind of has a thing for me. But the biggest problem is Dallas himself. There is no way in a million years he would go out with me, so for fear of having my heart ripped open I have to keep this to myself. And it’s getting more difficult.



“Hello Sodapop!” I say, strolling into the DX station. He’s sitting back in the chair behind the cash register, feet propped up in front of him and a magazine in his hands. When he notices me a grin breaks out across his face and he puts the magazine down, sitting up straight in his chair. He’s always happy to see one of us when he’s working—it gets boring when Steve isn’t working with him.

“Hey Ally, how are you on this fine Monday evening?” he asks with a smirk. I walk over and hop up onto the counter, his boss would kill him if he saw me there but we all know Bill never stays at work past 2:00. I cross my legs and shake my head.

“Let’s see Soda it’s been muggy out all day, I had to go to school which sucked, and oh yeah, it’s a Monday!” Mondays aren’t my day, never have been, and Soda knows that. There’s something about the first day of the week that makes my usually cheery demeanor not so cheery.

He’s still smiling but not in the in your face way he had been a second prior. “Well I’m sorry to hear that Al,” he says ruffling my hair and causing me to scrunch up my nose in distaste. “I get out of work in about…” he looks at the clock hanging right beside his head. “Fifteen minutes, wait for me, it’s almost dark and I don’t want you walking home by yourself,” he says in a firm voice.

“Yes sir,” I say, taking my English notebook out from my bag, crossing my legs Indian style, and attempting to begin working on the assignment. For some reason I have been having trouble focusing lately, my mind continually drifting to the same place for the past few months. I always thought Dallas was cute, any woman with a set of eyes could figure that out, but it’s like I see him in a whole new light now. The last crush I had was Jimmy Carlson in sixth grade. I still remember writing his name all over my notebook and daydreaming about him asking me out, what our first kiss would be like. But Jimmy was a soc, and when his best friend Larry saw my notebook him and a bunch of his friends—including Jimmy—gathered around me and called me all sorts of mean names. I remember Johnny coming to rescue me, shy, terrified of his own shadow Johnny, he wasn’t so nervous that day. He would have beaten all of them to a pulp if I hadn’t stopped him, even though the socs need a good beating I’m glad I did, adults always take their word over ours.

Needless to say I try not to get crushes anymore or at least not big ones like that and this crush on Dallas is getting to be more severe than Jimmy ever was. Not to mention, I’m not in the sixth grade anymore and my daydreams are no longer of the innocent variety. “You ready to go?” I nearly jump off the counter at the sudden sound of Soda’s voice, I didn’t realize that much time had already passed and the thought is actually kind of frightening. “Somebody’s jumpy today,” he chuckles, walking towards the door.

“I guess I just zoned out,” I reply, gathering my things as quickly as I can, I nod to Kenny—the guy taking over for Soda—and head out the door.



We manage to make it all the way to Soda’s house without any confrontations with the socs, which is definitely a positive thing. It’s not like we get jumped every single time we decide to take a stroll, more often than not nothing happens, but the second you drop your guard is always when it does. “Thanks for walking with me Soda, I’m just gonna go say hi to Pony and Darry and then head home.” I squeeze his shoulder lightly and walk towards the entrance to his house.

“Why don’t you spend the night?” he asks hopefully, he’s always asking me to stay over and I know exactly why.

“Soda, I know how to handle myself, I don’t need to stay over your house every night in order to avoid a confrontation with my parents. Besides, Johnny’s there and we know when it gets to the point where we have to leave, okay?” I ask, offering him a small smile. I appreciate that he cares so much but sometimes I just wish he would lighten up a little and stop treating me like a kicked puppy, and that goes for everyone else in the gang as well.

He sighs, I can tell he still wishes I would change my mind but frankly there is no chance in hell I’m going to. I know their door is always open if Johnny and I need to flee during the night for whatever reason and as I’ve proven on many occasions I’m not afraid to show up at 3:00 in the morning if I have to. He squeezes my shoulder and kisses my forehead softly before silently walking the rest of the way to the door. He holds it open for me and I follow in behind him.

“What are you doing here JohnnyCakes?” I ask, seeing him lying across the couch, some news program on TV. He sits up and offers me a weak smile, “Mom and dad are fighting again, Darry said we can spend the night here,” he answers in his soft voice. I hear Soda snicker behind me, his way of saying ‘I told you so’ and turn around to glare at him.

“Oh, well, where’s Pony?” I ask, taking the seat beside him on the couch and resting my head on his lap.

“He’s in his room, doing homework as always,” Johnny explains with dry humor in his voice, Ponyboy skipped a year and went straight to high school, he’s practically a genius as far as I’m concerned. And genius’s need to study something fierce. “Darry is…” Before he can finish his sentence I hear something bang as it falls to the floor in the kitchen followed by Darry cursing loudly.

“I take it that’s dinner…” I laugh, getting up and walking in to see what I can do. Darry has been trying his very best to fill the spot their parents left behind. Somehow he hasn’t quite managed to master cooking yet. “How may I help you Darry?” I chuckle at the scene in front of me. Darry is on the ground, pots and pans scattered around him and some kind of casserole in his lap.

“You can help by finishing dinner, I still need to make the corn and potatoes,” he grumbles, standing up and wiping his hands on his jeans.

I smile and pat him on the back as I walk over to where he just was. “This is a lot of food for just the five of us,” I point out, picking the casserole dish up off the ground and placing it on the stove, it is a little burnt around the edges but looks edible enough.

“Yeah, well, looks like the rest of the gang is showing up too,” he groans, walking out of the kitchen and leaving me by myself.

The rest of the gang, which means Dallas is going to be here, I hate that I have to prepare myself to see him now. Before it was so easy to be around him, in fact he was probably my favorite person to be around in the whole world, besides the Curtis’s mom—everyone adored her. Before I can catch my bearings I hear the loud creak of the kitchen door opening and in steps Dallas Winston himself.