I was sitting up on the roof of my house, watching the sun fall past the horizon. The sky was brightly colored in long strokes of pigment. I squinted. The colors reflected across the ponds in the golf course and back into my eyes. I tried my best not to stare directly into the sun despite how tempting it was. I knew it would be dark soon but summer was close and spring only lingered in refreshing cool breezes so I wanted to stay on the roof until it was pitch black. My father hated when I was up there. He said it was unladylike and was insecure over what the neighbors would think because he was an important figure in our town. My father cared much more for his image than me as a person, but I tried not to pay mind to him. I sighed into the wind, lying down to face the sky directly. There was a sound from my room, and I cursed under my breath. I hoped I hadn't been caught yet. I pressed my back against the wall parallel to the window and waited.
Not long after, I heard the person, presumably my father, nearing the glass. I smacked a hand over my face, suffocating the sound of my breath. The windows frame hissed as the glass rose. I was screwed. There was a scuffling of feet in the window, then footsteps on the roofing. Dally.
"What? What are you doing here?" I exclaimed, bursting from my shriveled spot against the wall. I was almost relieved to see Dally although we were barely close, it was just much better than my father.
"Nothing much, came to get you. Gang's all hanging out, they wanted you to be there." He told me passively. I smiled. Lately, I had been slumming with the greasers. I wasn't one, but I liked them better than socs.
"Oh. Yeah, for sure. I just gotta think of what to tell my dad before we get outta here." I said. I turned away for just a second before my face froze.
Before I could say anything, he slid the window closed. My throat shut in horror and I wanted to yell for him to stop but I was too taken aback.
"Are you okay?" He asked, observing my face. I paused in disbelief and pretended it was all a dream before screaming at him.
"You just locked us up here! Fuck!" I screamed, burring my face into my hands. His face dropped too. I could feel my pulse in my wrists. I knew I was in deeper shit than if it was my father who had walked up onto the rooftop. Now the scene was much less mild: me, a greaser boy with a terrible reputation, up in a secluded area all alone, in a place I wasn't supposed to be in whatsoever. I looked to him for advice but he only shook his head.
"Do something!" I urged desperately. Dally raised a brow. I scoffed at his expression, trying to not lose my mind.
"Cool it, princess, your dad ain't gonna find out," He said in his thick New York accent. Dally was being optimistically out of character. He ventured to the edge, dropping to the floor so his head hung over nothing but the forty-foot drop. His Christopher swatted against the gutter like the tick of a clock as he faced the dissent to the ground. Dally swore a bit, lifting himself from the position.
"Damn socs man. This is why you don't need these giant houses anyways." Dally barked, his eyes squeezed shut in frustration. He thought for a moment and then shrugged.
"I guess we'll just have to break the glass," Dally announced. I shrieked in protest, putting myself between him and the window.
"Hell no. My dad will kill me!" I objected. He frowned weakly, sitting down. I sat down beside him, sighing heavily.
"I guess we're gonna be up here for a while." I grimaced. Dally agreed, staring out into the sunset. I noticed how unusually calm and normal he seemed away from anyone else.
"So..." Dally smacked his lips. I didn't know him very well, but for the record, I didn't think anyone knew Dallas Winston very well anyways. He was more a friend of a friend, than my own and we had only hung out when there were others around. We were stuck together for an unknown amount of time, and I shuttered nervously.
"We better find a way to pass the time. Looks like we're not leaving anytime soon." I muttered. For the first time, I saw Dally shoot me a look of regret.
"Whatcha wanna do?" He prompted.
"I dunno, let me get to know you, Dally," I smirked leaning towards him to hear him speak.
"What do you wanna know?" Dally asked skeptically. I weighed my questions before asking.
"Hm, what's your favorite color?" I snickered. His face twisted to a confused frown, breaking eye contact to consider.
"Man, I guess I never really thought about it." Dally shrugged again. I gasped, looking at him as if had said something much worse.
"YOU DON'T HAVE A FAVORITE COLOR?!" I shouted, completely taken aback by his words. Dally jumped at my reaction and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. He lit it on his Christopher necklace and dragged from it absently.
"Maybe red I guess." He murmured through the smoke. My eyes never left him. He turned to face me again, raising his eyebrows as if he was waiting for me to speak.
"Yours?" He asked casually. I hadn't expected him to ask. A smile crept onto my face and I tried to hide the giddy feeling the question gave me.
"Blue. Light blue." I told him quickly. He nodded, continuing to inhale from the cigarette.
"Are you Catholic?" I asked innocently. I assumed due to his Christopher necklace, but it could have been counterintuitive because he used it as a lighter. His hand went up to touch the silver on his neck. I waited patiently for a reply.
"Nah. Yeah, Nah. My mom was, my dad might've been before I was born, I'm not sure." He recalled softly. I didn't want to seem rude, but I pressed on anyways.
"Why do you gotta necklace then?" My eyes flickered between the focused expression on his face and St. Christopher on his necklace holding a small child upon his shoulders while wading through water.
"My mom. I guess she gave it to me." He mumbled. It was silent for a moment. I hummed and relaxed against the roof again.
"Why are you always around us man. You're a soc. Just look at this." Dallas demanded while gesturing to the large, extravagant house, the golf course we overlooked, and the way I was dressed. I shrugged. He continued to speak.
"Look at what ya got. Man, people on the other side would die for this shit." He reminisced. I thought about how he had it all wrong, but I didn't correct him. It was easier for the hoods to think the socs had it all figured out, but that wasn't true for me at least.
"So?" He snapped me out of my thoughts. I considered how I would respond.
"People 'round here aren't so raw. They're all fake and sugar-coated. But on the east side, it's I feel seen. Do you know what I saying?" I explained.
"Yeah, the people here are assholes. I get it." Dally laughed at his own joke. I started to laugh too.
"Do you know what I've been wanting to know about you, Dally?" I asked with a giggle. He tilted his head down to ask 'what'.
"What's your middle name?" I interrogated. Dally raised his eyebrows. I waited patiently. He opened his mouth to talk but fringed and shut it again.
"Oh come on! It can't be that bad. I bet it's John or William." I urged. Dally took a deep breath and began.
"My middle name... is Tucker." He sighed. I squealed in excitement.
"Dallas Tucker Winston. I love that, it has a nice ring to it." I repeated the name to myself over and over.
"Don't go around telling people that or you're dead." Dally threatened. "Plus now you gotta tell me yours.
"Y/M/N"
"That's... something." He trailed off. I hit him in the arm lightly.
"Hey, you aren't so bad Dally," I commented. He turned to me with his eyebrows knitted together. He looked surprised.
"Hey, I really am that charming." He winked. It sent us both into a burst of laughter again.
"So how do we get down?"
