In Our Hearts, We Must Carry On

“I’d say you’re about six weeks along.” Cherry’s jaw dropped and her eyes went wide. Six weeks?

“That- that’s impossible,” she stuttered in disbelief. She quickly counted backwards to her last period, and found the doctor was right. His blue eyes were sympathetic over his gold rimmed glasses and he patted her on the shoulder, saying he’d give her some time alone. She had skipped a period, and woke up feeling sick more often than not, but chalked that up to the pressures of final and Bob demanding to see her, though they had broken up a while ago. She was serious when she said she’d never go out with him while he had been drinking, but it seemed like towards the end, he was always drunk. Her heart sank, knowing it wasn’t his. After the appointment, she sat in her Sting Ray, head against the window, trying to keep thoughts of the night she spent with Dallas Winston at bay.



It was a chilly night and Cherry was at the drive-in, alone. She shuddered, pulling her blue sweater tightly around her small frame. She was cooling off after a night of fighting with Bob. It was about two weeks since she found out Bob and his friends had jumped Johnny Cade, beat him half to death. Cherry hated fights and was sick with the knowledge her sweet, thoughtful boyfriend did that for kicks. Alcohol had been involved, no doubt, but that wasn’t an excuse. He controlled his drinking around her for the most part, but lately it had been getting out of control. He turned into a monster when he was drunk, fighting just to fight, not willing to hear ‘no,’ not content until he got his way. They had broken up; the fighting and drinking had been too much for her to handle. She didn’t even offer an ultimatum, she just called it off. They were both upset, but her grades had certainly improved since she wasn’t out at night, taking care of him after he’d pass out in the streets.

Marcia was off with Randy somewhere and Cherry was a little grateful for the silence. She loved her best friend, but she sure could be tiring sometimes. Another beach movie was playing, and while they weren’t her favorite, they provided enough entertainment to keep her mind off things. However, she was so immersed in the movie, she hadn’t sensed the coming storm.

The drive-in was fairly empty; she was one of the few sitting in the rows of chairs, but the car lot wasn’t all that busy either. She had driven there, but preferred sitting in the seats- it was quieter and people weren’t standing in the way. Halfway through the movie, a shadow loomed over her.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here,” a deep voice drawled. Cherry tensed slightly but didn’t turn around, instead bringing her coke to her lips to quell her trembling lips.

“Hey. Redhead. I’m talking to you.” The voice was closer now, breathing down her neck. She’d recognize it anywhere. Dallas Winston. She kept her eyes forward, half hoping he’d leave her alone, half wanting to see where this would go. She heard him chuckle as he walked around the chair and sat down beside her, setting his own drink on the ground. She felt a thrill of foreboding but still, ignored him. “You hate me, huh?” She could hear his grin in his voice.

“I don’t hate anyone,” she said coolly. He cleared his throat and propped his long legs up on the rail in front of them with ease before pulling out a cigarette. That sense of admiration welled up inside of her again. She was cool in her own right, seemingly detached from society as if the going ons of high school were beneath her. But Dallas Winston was another story: he actually didn’t care. She wished she didn’t care.

“Want a smoke?” He shook the pack at her and she declined, bewildered. “Maybe something a little more dangerous?” She looked at him now, cigarette dangling from his lips, his lanky frame stretched out in the seat, a smirk turning up the corner of his mouth.

“What?” She snapped. He raised an eyebrow at her. “What do you want? I’m not in the mood. I’m never in the mood for you.”

“I’m bored,” he shrugged. She watched his hands fumble for something in his jacket, and for a wild moment thought he’d pull out a knife. Her fears were unfounded as he produced a small silver flask. He grinned, waving the container at her before pouring some in her drink, as well as his own. He sat back in his chair, arms crossed as if silently daring her to drink. Rising to the challenge, she quickly took a gulp, coughing at the liquid burning her throat. He laughed loudly at that.

Her face burned red and she drank even more, then wondered what the hell she was doing, how she had found herself sharing a drink with a greaser- a violent one at that. The more she drank, the less she cared. Maybe this was her “fuck you” to societal norms. She wasn’t opposed to drinking; she just couldn’t stand how people let it run their life. Becoming friendly with Dally was never in the cards, and she knew these cards led to dangerous places, but she was fuming from her fight with her ex-boyfriend, and the spiked drink was beginning to muddle her thoughts. She knew she was teetering dangerously close to the edge, and wondered just how far she would fall.

“Something’s wrong,” she started, trying to make sense. “Why aren’t you bothering me?”

“Do you like when I bother you?”

“No. I don’t like you.” But that wasn’t exactly true, was it? She had told Ponyboy if she saw Dally again she’d fall in love with him. Pony was a smart kid; she knew she could share that without him telling anyone, but she had to wonder. She didn’t really mean she’d fall in love, at least she hoped not. She just meant…

“You’re cute when you’re angry,” he interrupted her thoughts, smirking again. She wanted to slap him and wipe that stupid smirk off his stupid face. Instead she just narrowed her eyes.

“Leave me alone,” Cherry huffed, turning back to the movie, regretting giving this hood the time of day. “Be nice and leave me alone,” she pleaded, echoing the same words she spoke the first night they met.

“I’m never nice,” he parroted. She shook her head, brushing her hair behind her shoulders. She had seen how he acted with Johnny, only backing down when he said something. She’d be treading on thin ice if she brought it up. So, again, she ignored him. He cleared his throat but said nothing more. After a while, he stood up and left, brushing the seat of his pants off.

“See ya.” Cherry was left reeling. Her head was beginning to clear a bit, but she still couldn’t understand what had just happened. She had sat with Dallas and he hadn’t attacked her. He seemed calm, not the angry young man everyone knew he was. It scared her. But not as much as what happened next.

The second movie started and Cherry headed to the concessions to get popcorn. Standing in line, she noticed a couple of younger Socs ahead of her, and some unsavory looking Greasers behind her. They looked more dangerous than Dally. The hair on her neck pricked up as they eyed her, baring their teeth into barely passable smiles. She stood up a little straighter, head held high. Popcorn and another drink in hand, she started making her way back to her seat when she was stopped by three boys; the greasers from the snack line.

“Hey baby,” one of them slurred. She smiled politely but quickly averted her eyes, trying to side-step the group.

“Where d’ya think you’re goin’?” Another sneered, grabbing for her arm. Her eyes darted around for the two younger Socs she saw, but they hadn’t noticed. The tallest of the three boys stepped closer and closer, forcing her to walk backwards until she was pinned between him and the wall. She could smell alcohol coming off of him and it made her feel sick. A hand snaked its way up and down her arm before sliding its way across her taut belly. She jerked hard to the left but was pulled back into place by two strong hands pinning her arms. She hitched a breath to cry out, but a sweaty hand clasped over her mouth shoving her head back. Her skull bounced off the wall behind her and she let out a strangled yelp. For the first time, she felt fear. The three bodies pressed themselves around her. The tall boy’s eyes bore holes straight through her; they were black, too black. His face filled her field of vision and he slid a hand around her neck.

“When I’m done, she’s yours,” the boy slurred to his friends, who laughed.

She heard a distinct click of a switchblade.

“Get the fuck off of her,” a low voice rumbled from the dark.

“Who’s gonna make me?” The tall boy smirked.

“Me,” it threatened and she could breathe again. Whoever it was had grabbed her attacker by his shoulder and spun him around, slamming him to the ground. The dim light glinted off the switchblade and she saw Dallas was wielding it, not one of these boys. His boot planted firmly into the boy’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him before he could even climb back to his feet. His friends had run away.

“You okay?” Dally panted. Cherry nodded, her eyes wide and fearful, unable to speak.

“Git out of here.” She nodded and took off, slowing when she got near the rows of chairs. She sat down to catch her breath, wincing when she touched the back of her head. She’d have a hell of a bruise. She debated on leaving but figured she wouldn’t be having any more problems that night. Besides, it was early still, and she knew her parents were still awake, and she sure as hell didn’t want to explain why she looked so awful.

The movie was over, and as Cherry headed to her car, she had decided that the night was just a fluke; maybe the full moon had people acting funny. Her heart stuttered when she saw a familiar figure leaning against the passenger side of her car. She stopped a few feet short, and watched him silently. A look of annoyance crossed her face and she tapped her foot impatiently.

“Hi. Can you move? Now.”

“I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“Why would I?”

“I saved you,” he said simply. She had to agree there; she hated to think what would’ve happened if he hadn’t showed.

“Thank you,” she said. She didn’t want him to see her vulnerable. He grinned and stepped away from the car.

“You dropped these.” Her keys were dangling from her index finger and she rifled through her bag, surprised when she didn’t find them.

“Thank you,” she said again, reaching for them. He jerked them away and grinned again. Her jaw clenched. It was stupid to think he’d be nice outside of that one moment. She reached out and again he snatched them away.

“What do I get for them?”

“Isn’t the thought of being a good, helpful person enough?”

“Nope,” he said simply. She sighed and rubbed her temples.

“Just give me my keys.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m asking.”

“So?” He wouldn’t make this easy. To her horror, her bottom lip started quivering. She looked down, berating herself, trying to control the tears threatening to spill. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. She clenched her jaw and looked up, shooting daggers.

“Give. Me. My Keys.” He presented them open palmed. She grabbed them quickly and walked around to the other side, Dally a few steps behind. She unlocked the door, then turned to say goodbye. He was staring at her in a way that gave her chills. His eyes were so clear, and he was looking at her in wonder.

“What-“ her question was silenced by a surprisingly soft kiss. She started to pull away but something stopped her. Something changed in her. She had always been attracted to “bad boys” and tangled her fingers in his dark hair, deepening their kiss. When it ended, they were slightly out of breath, their cheeks burning red. He timidly touched her soft hair. An unspoken agreement passed between them and they both slid into the front seat and drove off, heading to the vacant lot.

In the backseat, tangled up in each other, she briefly wondered if she was making a mistake, but then he kissed her and she didn’t care. She'd deal with the regret tomorrow.