Take Me Back to Where We Started

As I started off for Buck's, I desperately tried to remember how to get to his house. I had no idea how to get there in the daylight, let alone at 11 o'clock at night. I knew I was getting closer when the houses started getting shittier and shittier. I took a sip out of the whiskey bottle and almost spit it out when I heard someone say "hey" from right behind me. I turned around and saw three guys standing shoulder to shoulder. They all looked pretty young.

"Me?" I pointed to myself.

"Yeah, you. What's your name?" The one standing in the middle asked me.

"Nicole." I responded, oblivious to what the three guys were probably thinking about doing to me. "What's your name?"

He narrowed his eyes, then took a step closer. "You look clean." He said, eyeing me up and down.

"Listen," I was about to say something dumb, when I realized what he was most likely gonna do. I can't get raped, I thought to myself. So, naturally, I did the only thing I could think of, besides running. "You don't wanna do this. I'm dating Dally Winston, you know him?" They all took a step back, the kid on the left running his fingers through his hair. "Good fucking going, ya idiot. Tim's gonna beat the fuckin' tar out of me for even lookin' at Dal's broad." He said to the kid in the middle.

I extended my arm, offering them a sip of whiskey. When they all shook their heads no, I took a sip of it. "Don't worry. I won't tell Dally. Just tell me how to get to Buck's."

"Yeah, yeah. Just keep goin' straight and take a right on Prospect. You'll hear the music, and if ya don't, it's the real shitty one. More beat up than the rest."

I nodded, then turned around and started walking away from them. "Good one," I thought to myself as I walked up the stairs at Buck's. I figured I would knock on the door. When no one answered, I pounded the door with the whiskey bottle.

"Now, I know someone ain't bangin' on my fuckin' door like that…" I heard Buck say as he opened the door.

"You gotta stop with this country shit, man. Don't you have any Elvis?"

He stared at me and fooled around with the tooth pick in his mouth for a few seconds, before starting to shut the door. "No, no, no! Come on." He opened the door back up.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"Dally. Is Dally here?" I took another sip of whiskey.

He didn't answer, he just opened the door. "Shut it behind you." With that, he walked away. I searched the room for Dallas and found him leaning up against a pool table, beer in his hand, talking to some guy that I didn't know. I walked over to him and leaned against the pool table a few feet away from him. He didn't acknowledge me.

"You know," I said. "I give you a lotta credit." The guy he was talking to stopped and looked over at me, however, Dallas did not. I cleared my throat, then inched closer to him. "I'm trying to give you a compliment." He rolled his head towards me.

"What are you doin' here?"

"Just mentioning your name got me out of a lot of trouble."

He looked at the guy he was talking to before I showed up. "I gotta take care of this. Chicks, man." He shook the guys hand and I watched as Dally's friend disappeared into the crowd.

"What are you goin' on about?"

"I was walking over here because…woah" I tried pushing myself up off of the pool table but I stumbled, spilling whiskey on the green surface that I had just been leaning on. I smiled, then shrugged my shoulders. "Whoops." I was standing in front of Dally now.

"What is that?" He asked, grabbing the whiskey from my hand, pressing his nose to the top of it. "Straight whiskey? How drunk are you?"

"Will you just listen? Okay, so I walked over here and there were these guys, ya know, like following me. I thought they were gonna rape me or kill me or do something. But then I was like 'I think people probably respect Dally over here because of all the trouble he gets in and he's a pretty scary dude, so I think I'll say I'm his girlfriend' I said that in my head, not to the guys." I added, just to make sure he was following.

He put his beer down and took a sip of my whiskey. "Yeah, stupid. I got that."

"Right, so I said that I was your girlfriend and the one kid started buggin' out, sayin' that 'Tim was gonna kill him'. So, thanks for that."

Dally started laughing. "I bet that was Curly. What a fuckin' idoiot. Man, that kid is so stupid, he makes me look like Michelangelo."

I cracked a smile. "He makes you look like a sculptor? I think you were shooting for Einstein there, but it was a nice try."

"You know what I meant."

"While I'm here, I guess I should also thank you for that ass grab in the hallway today."

Dally took another sip of whiskey, then shrugged. "Looked good. I had to do it…what are you starin' at my lips like that for?"

I grabbed the bottle back from him and put it to my lips, keeping my eyes focused on his. "No reason."

He cocked his head to the side. "You wanna go upstairs?" He asked, smiling. He didn't even give me time to answer, but if he did, I would've said "yes, please." He grabbed my hand and pulled me up the stairs and into the bedroom.

I pushed Dallas onto the bed and straddled him, taking off his shirt. I began kissing his neck, then continued down his chest and stomach. "Shit, you ain't waistin' anytime, huh?" I stopped when I reached a huge scar near his right hip bone. I ran my fingers over it. "What's that?" I asked, sitting up straight.

"Well, I know it's not my dick, so could we forget about it? Keep doin' what you were doin."

"It's so big…" I could see him roll his eyes.

"Again, if you were talking about my dick, I would be flattered. But you're talkin' about a stupid scar that I've had for years. Can we get on with this?" He asked, sounding annoyed.

"Right, right. Sorry." I dropped it and moved my lips back to his. He reached down to my waist, but before he could get my jeans unbuttoned, I broke the kiss. "How'd you get that? If you've had it for a few years it must've been a deep cut." He groaned, then grabbed my hips and pushed me off of him. He muttered "Jesus Christ" as he reached his arm over to the night stand and grabbed a cigarette and a match. "It's from a blade." He said, while lighting his cigarette.

"You got stabbed?" I asked in shock.

"A few times. This was the worst. I better give you the stories behind all my scars now, huh? Because if we ever do fuck," he turned his head to me, "which we will. I don't wanna have to stop every five minutes cause of you askin' about my scars."

"Did a Soc do it? Or a cop? Was it…" I was cut off by his hand covering my mouth.

"Shh…shut up. You wanna tell the story, or you want me to do it?"

I murmured a "sorry," then hiccuped.

"I've had it since I was 14. Got in in jail." I stayed quiet. "I got up one night to take a piss and I woke one of my cell mates up. He started beatin' the tar outta me and that woke up one of the other cell mates, who was bigger than the one that I woke up. He got into the fight and pulled a blade. Ended up stabbin' the other guy to death. Got me once, but I was lucky, I guess."

"How did he have a knife in jail? Don't they search you? Did he get in trouble?"

He let out a short breath. "No, he didn't get in trouble. It was in New York, kid. You think it's bad over here, you should try livin' over there. You wouldn't last five seconds with all of the gangs they got. "

"Were you in a gang?" I asked, rolling over onto my right side, propping myself up on my elbow.

He let out a quick laugh. "Was I in a gang? Of course I was in a fuckin' gang. There should be more gangs out here, if ya ask me. A part from Shepard's and the Tigers. Or the Brumly Boys, I guess."

"Tim has a gang?" I asked confused.

He smiled, rolling his head towards me. "A poor excuse for one." He looked back at the ceiling. "None of these gangs are ike the gangs in New York. Two of the smallest guys in my old gang could take on Shepard's whole outfit and they would whoop their asses like it was nothin'."

"If you like gangs so much, why don't you join Tim's? Or start your own?"

"Yeah, who would be in my gang? Two Bit? Ponyboy? Pretty tough gang, huh? And anyway, gangs here ain't the same as thet are in New York."

"I could be in your gang. Do you know how clutch I would be in a rumble? My right hook is deadly."

"HA!" He rolled over and faced me. "Yeah, I'm sure your hook is deadly. You would be the worst person to have in a rumble, sweetheart."

I sat up. "Sit up and let me hit you."

He sat up, smiling. He patted his upper arm. "Take your best shot, honey. But, I get to punch you after you hit me."

"No! That's not fair. You hit harder than I do."

He laughed. "Is that what you're gonna tell someone in a rumble?"

"Shut up." I cocked my right arm back and hit him as hard as I could. He started laughing; a huge goofy smile plastered on his face. "Oh come on. That hurt a little."

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "Didn't even feel it." I rolled my eyes, then held out my arm. "Your turn, big guy." I thought he would laugh, and say that he wouldn't hit me and then he would kiss me on the forehead and we would go to sleep and it would be like a movie, but that was the night that I realized Dallas wasn't like the guys in movies, or any of the guys that I knew, for that matter. Because I knew for a fact that none of them would ever hit me, excluding my brother. I felt his fist connect with my upper arm at full force. Well, I figured it was full force. If it wasn't, I would hate being the guy on the other end of his fist when he was swinging as hard as he could. "Ow!" I screamed. I lifted the sleeve of my shirt up to look at the spot where he just hit me. "You dickhead!" I said, rubbing my arm.

He was laughing at himself. "I told you I was gonna hit you."

"Yeah, I didn't think you would actually fucking do it!" I yelled back at him. He was still laughing. "Do you know how bad that would hurt if I wasn't drunk? You're lucky."

"That was my weak hand. It really hurt that bad?"

"It's already bruising." He grabbed my arm. "Let me see it." I shouldn't have let him do that. He lightly punched the same spot again, which still hurt from the first time he hit me. I quickly pushed him away from me, still looking at the bruise forming. "You're just like my fucking brother, Dally."

"Oh yeah, we're exactly alike." He said, laying back down. "Oh, man." He mumbled.

"What?"

"I don't feel too hot."

"Are you gonna yack?" I asked him. He didn't answer. "Are you gonna throw up?" I asked him again. I saw him shake his head lightly. I jumped up and went across the hallway to the bathroom, trying to grab the trashcan before Dallas threw up all over the floor. I knocked on the door.

"Fuck off." I heard someone say from inside the bathroom.

"Can you just hand the trashcan out? I'll close my eyes." There was no answer. I stood outside the door waiting. The bathroom was right at the top of the stairs and I could hear that the party had died down.

"Break one more fuckin' thing and you're outta here, Bo." I heard Buck yell at someone from downstairs. Finally, the bathroom door opened and a girl walked out, followed by two guys. I looked at them, then shook my head and went into the bathroom and grabbed the trashcan. When I got back into the bedroom, Dally had half of his body hanging off of the bed. "The trashcan's right there, incase you need to throw up." I said to him as I sat on the bed next to his legs. He gave me a thumbs up and I knew all too well how he was feeling right now, so I tried to make as little movement as possible as I laid down in bed next to him. I heard him gagging, so I reached over and started rubbing his back. That lasted for about three seconds before he smacked my arm away with the hand that wasn't holding the trashcan. "Don't fuckin' do that." He said, before spitting into the trashcan.

"I was just trying to…"

"Don't" He spat. I rolled over and faced away from him and stared at the wall. He threw up for what seemed like five minutes. Once I heard the trashcan being placed back down on the floor, I craned my neck over my shoulder and looked at him. "Aren't you gonna get up and brush your teeth after that?" I asked him. He shook his head no, then let it fall back onto the pillow. I got up out of bed and made my way to the door. "Where are you goin'?" He called after me. I went downstairs and saw Buck sitting at a table with Tim Shepherd and two other guys. The house was cleared out now. "Can I get a glass of water?" I asked from behind them. They all turned around and looked at me.

"You and Dal been up there for a while now and you're still fully dressed?" Buck said to me.

"You think she would come downstairs naked? She put her clothes back on after they fucked, idiot." One of the guys I didn't know said.

"I just want a glass of water."

"We don't believe in water here." Buck said back, smiling with that stupid tooth pick still hanging out the side of his mouth.

"It's not for me, it's for Dally." Buck started getting up, but Tim pushed him back in his seat. "I'll get it." He said as he walked by him. I looked down at the floor and Buck's leg caught my eye. There were blood stains on his let pant leg.

"Dally makin' you get shit for him? Tell that bastard to get it for himself next time." He said as he handed me a glass of water.

I smiled and nodded my head. "Will do. Thanks, Tim." I said as I walked past him and back up the stairs. Dallas was still laying in bed. I shut the door behind me and handed him the glass of water. "At least rinse your mouth out and spit it back into the trashcan, dirt ball."

He told me to shut up, but it was muffled by the pillow he was lying on. I stood there for a few seconds before realizing I could walk back to Randy's now and crash there. That way, I wouldn't end up getting in any trouble.

"I think I'm gonna get going." I said to Dally, putting my shoes back on.

He sat up. "Why? You're gonna run off 'cause I told you to shut up?"

"Nope. If I go back to Randy's now I can't get in any trouble."

"I don't feel like walkin' you there. Just stay here."

I opened the door. "I don't want you to walk me. Just incase Paul's still up." I closed the door behind me. I made it down three stairs before I heard it open again. I turned around and saw Dally pulling a shirt over his head. "You ain't walking by yourself." He mumbled as he walked passed me down the stairs.

"Get your boys and get out, Brink. I'm not lookin' for any trouble. Plus, the numbers ain't even. Wouldn't be fair." I heard someone say as I stepped down from the last step.

"Naw, looks like they're even now." The boy said, turning to Dallas who was standing a few feet in front of me.

"What's goin' on?" He walked over to Tim, Buck and a bunch of other guys that I didn't know.

"Caught one of your little buddies runnin' around down on my street, fuckin' with my boys' cars. That's what's goin on." One of the guys that were standing across from Tim and Buck said. He was standing in front of the four guys behind him.

"I ain't got nothin' to do with this." Buck said, sounding annoyed.

"You here for a fight, Brink?" Dally chimed in. "Stop beatin around the fuckin' bush. If you came here for a fight, I'll give you one." He lunged forward, grabbing the guy that was doing all the talking. He quickly had him on the ground and was repeatedly hitting him in the face. The others followed suit. Tim grabbed one of the guys in the back and the two other guys that were behind Tim did the same. Another guy grabbed Tim and held him while someone else delivered blow after blow to his stomach. I stood and stared at the whole thing, not knowing what else to do. Buck walked over and picked up a towel that was lying on the bar top.

"You might wanna take a seat, kid." So, I did as Buck said. He offered me a drink, and I took it. The longer I drank, the further away my hangover would be. He got me a beer and popped off the cap.

"Who are those guys?" I asked, motioning towards the fight that was going on with my beer.

"Shitheads from the Tigers…wait a minute. Hey!" Buck raised his voice. "Any of you break any of my tables, you're payin' for 'em!"

"This happens a lot? I shouldn't be, ya know, worried about anyone getting hurt?"

Buck cleaned off dirty cups and shot glasses from the bar. "Naw. Less one of them pulls a blade. Then you should be worried. Just sit here and chill till it's over." He gathered as many as he could before heading to a door in the back of the bar.

"Wait!" I called after him. "I have another question. Why is that stupid toothpick always hanging out of your mouth?"

"My version of a cigarette." He called from the back room.

"No fuckin' weapons, Brink. Just skin." I heard Dally say. When I turned to look at him, I saw him backing away from the guy he was fighting with, who's name, or nickname, I now knew was Brink.

"We ain't set no rules, Winston, and you really pissed me off." Brink said, holding up a blade. Dallas started searching the room for something. What, I don't know.

"God Damn't, Buck…Nicole. Throw me your beer bottle!" He yelled over to me. His eyes were still set on the guy with the knife.

"It's still half full. I can't throw…" The guy lunged towards Dally.

"Fuckin' finish it!" He screamed back at me. I figured dumping it out on the bar would be quicker, so I did. I saw Dally throw the guy to the ground, so I figured now was my chance. He turned and faced me as I stood up and chucked him the glass beer bottle. He caught it and shattered the bottom of it over the pool table.

"Alright, enough." Tim said, pushing the guy who he was fighting away from him. When the guy lunged back towards Tim, he grabbed him by the collar and threw him on the ground. "I fuckin' said enough!" Tim yelled.

"Now that I gotta weapon, you wanna pussy out. You're a fuckin' punk, Brink!" Dallas yelled as the guy shoved the blade back into his pocket. Brink used the back of his hand to stop the blood flow from his nose as he followed the rest of his guys out the door. "Keep those kids off of my fuckin' street." He said, before he ducked the half of beer bottle that Dally threw at him. "Fuckin' pussy!" Dally screamed over Tim's shoulder. Tim was pushing Dally backward away from the door when Dally snapped on Tim.

"Don't fuckin' touch me." He spat in Tim's face, before pushing him.

"Jesus Christ, Dally. Relax."

"You do this shit to me all the time. Fuckin' pullin' a knife on me." He trailed off.

It surprised me how wound up Dally was, while Tim seemed like he couldn't be any calmer. "I didn't ask you to fight, you shithead. You made it your business to jump in."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Dallas walked over to me. "If you would've just fuckin' stayed up stairs none of this would've fuckin' happened. Are you happy?" I bit my bottom lip and tried not to laugh. He sounded so stupid, blaming this whole thing on me. Like it was my fault that guy pulled a knife on him. "Let's go. I'm walking you home." And with that, he stormed out the door.

"Aren't I lucky?" I said to Tim as I hopped off the bar stool.

"He's in one of his moods. Be careful. I saw you tryin' not to laugh, and you're lucky you didn't. He would've knocked your head off." He winked at me as I walked out of the house and almost fell over a smoking Dallas sitting on the steps. "Took you long enough." He muttered as he stood up and started walking.

"What the hell…Dallas!" Buck stuck his head out the front door and yelled after Dally. "You better get your ass back here and clean this mess up!"

"Fuck off, Buck." Dally screamed back to him.

"Are you gonna knock my head off if I say something?" I asked him, using Tim's description of what Dally would've done to me if I would have laughed at him.

"Yeah, probably." He said, taking a long drag on his cigarette.

"I told you I would be clutch in a fight, didn't I?" He let out a long breath, then stopped walking and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger before cracking a small smile that disappeared as quickly as it came.

"Im gonna…" he didn't finish his sentence due to the vomit that was coming out of his mouth. I went to rub his back but pulled my arm away, remembering that he got mad when I did it before. After he was done, he spit and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You can't even rub my back when I'm practically pukin' up my stomach. And to think, I wanted to go out with you." He joked.

"I never refused that offer, really." I said, referring back to the morning when he tried giving me his necklace.

"I thought leaving my pants in the middle of the road and makin' fun of my 'pale ass legs' meant that you refused the offer."

I laughed, remembering his white legs standing on the front porch of the Curtis's. I wanted to ask him if anyone stole his wallet, but I decided not to. "Nope, that wasn't a refusal. You just pissed me off. You could've given me another week and I probably would've took that necklace, ya know." I said, elbowing him in the side.

"I gave you almost two months. That enough time?" We were outside of Randy's now, so I stopped walking and he followed.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Are you asking me to…"

"Yeah, yeah." He cut me off. "That's what I'm askin', stupid."

"I'll say yes only if you do something first."

He shoved his hand in his pockets. "And what's that?"

"Tell me I was clutch in the fight back there at Buck's." He didn't say anything. "Well, go ahead. Say it."

"Fine, fine. You were clutch. Now take this." He took his necklace off and handed it to me. I looked up at him and gave him a quick peck on the lips before putting the necklace on and walking back towards Randy's. "Go, before my brother sees you." I turned around and whispered to him. He didn't say anything, nor did he go anywhere. He stood out on the sidewalk until I was in the house. It was dark and quiet in the living room, so I walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain and watched Dallas walk down the street. I hadn't realized he was limping until now. I dropped the curtain and felt around on the couch to make sure no one was lying there, and luckily, no one was. I plopped onto the couch and reached for a blanket, which I knew was draped over the back of the couch. I laid there and stared at the ceiling, playing with Dally's necklace for a while. I was glad that he had asked me to be his "girlfriend" again, because I regretted not just taking his necklace in the first place.