How to Live

Chapter One

There are three types of people in this world. Socs, the middle class, and Greasers. I'm a Greaser, in all my glory. The lowest you can get. The public disgraces. Most people don't even stop to think that we're not all that bad.

I bet that they've never realized that there are three types of Greasers, too. The first is the real wild kind, like Dallas Winston or Buck Merrill, who've got criminal records as long as their souped up stolen cars. Then there's the sort of neutral kind, with the kids who'll swipe a pack of Kools or sneak into a drive-in for kicks. And last and least, there's the quiet kind. Like me and that kid Ponyboy Curtis. We keep our mouths shut good, and people don't bug us.

My name is Laura-Ann Ryder, but people call me Laurie. I'm sixteen years old and live on the wrong side of town. I guess it ain't so bad. Even if my house is a dump, I get along with my parents well enough, which is rare, and they're still just as in love as they were when they got married (at sixteen, might I add).

But still, life's still not all that. I feel like I'm always dreaming . . . never thinking or using my head. I'd let an entire day slip by without noticing. In sixteen years, I haven't truly lived for a second. And that drove me crazy.

It drove other people crazy, too. My mother would always ask why I'd never go out on Friday nights like she did, or why I didn't have a boyfriend. My best friend, Peggy Cooper, was constantly bugging me about doing something with my life.

So here I was, standing on my front porch on a Friday night, about to go to a party. It had taken Peggy weeks to convince me to go, and I was beginning to wonder if I would regret this decision. I had heard horror stories of these parties. Drugs and alcohol and gambling, everything illegal under one roof. But we were Greasers, and that was how we rolled.

Peggy pulled up in front of my house in her brother's car. He had made it himself, out of the wrecks of three different models. She honked the horn and I jumped into the passenger seat. Before starting the car, she turned to me and said, "OK, here are some universal party rules. First, don't leave your drink alone, not even for a minute. Second, don't gamble on anything while drunk. Third, don't do anything that you'll regret tomorrow. And finally, stay away from the rooms with towels on the door handle."

"Glory, Peg, you're making it sound like Auschwitz or somethin'," I said. She probably didn't know what I was talking about.

"Nah, don't sweat it, Laurie. It'll be a blast." She put the car into first gear and sped off down the street.

In a couple minutes, we had pulled up outside of an old, dust-covered whitewashed bar, with a flickering sign in the window that read, "Buck's". The ground underneath me was vibrating from the noise of the music, and you could hear the people shouting from outside. We walked into a large, smoke filled room. Everyone was dancing or drinking or playing pool. Peggy had disappeared into the crowd and I was left on my own. "Well, well, well."

I turned around to see Mark Jennings, a junior from my highschool, smirking at me. "Never thought I'd see the day when Laurie Ryder showed her face at a party. You want a drink, doll?" He held out a bottle of Pepsi.

"Thanks," I said, taking the bottle and drinking about half of it without thinking. I never do think things through enough. The drink burned a fiery path down my throat. "Mark . . . was there something in the pop?"

He looked offended. "Of course not! I thought you knew me better than that."

I didn't know whether I should believe him or not, but I dismissed the thought as a relaxed feeling came over me. The room seemed to blur a little as I chugged the rest of the drink.

Man, I didn't know what this feeling was, but I was loving it. It felt like I could do anything. With this newfound confidence, I stumbled over to a group of guys standing around a keg. "Hey, give me one," I said.

They passed me a plastic cup full with beer, not even caring that I was only sixteen. The beer was gone in a second and the cup was refilled. Within a couple minutes, I knew I was drunk. But, hell, I didn't care. This was fantastic.

I stumbled over to some boys from my highschool who I knew were in a gang together. "Hey, fellas," I slurred, "any one 'a ya wanna good time?"

One of the boys turned to face me. He looked so familiar, but I couldn't quite remember who he was. Glory hallelujah, he was a knockout. I clung to his shoulder as I swayed on the spot.

"Laurie? Are you drunk?" he asked.

"Of course she's drunk, man, look at her!" another boy said.

"She's gonna do something stupid if she's this wasted."

"I'm not wasted," I said. "Just havin' a real, real good time. If y'all don't wanna hang with me, I'll go somewhere else."

I started to walk away, but was picked up and flung over someone's shoulder. "Hey!" I said. "Where-where're we goin'? The party's out there! You're no fun!"

"I'm plenty of fun," the boy said. "But I'm not gonna sit back and watch you do somethin' stupid."

A minute later, I was being put down on a bed. "Now . . . er . . . just try and sleep. You'll need it. I'm stayin' here, so don't try leaving."

"But I don't wanna sleep. There's so much I wanna do and say. Did you know I'm tired of my life? It's so damn boring. I ain't ever really lived for one second. And that kills me. I don't even know how. Do you?"

He was staring at me like I had two heads. Probably because I've never talked for so long before. "Yeah, I do," he said quietly. "And I can teach you how, Laurie, but you've got to lie down."

I sighed and pulled the covers over me. The bed was soft and comfortable and made me dozy in my drunken state. The next thing I knew, it was morning, and I had an awful headache and no idea where I was. I sat up in bed, cringing as my head started to pound.

Sleeping in a chair beside the bed was Sodapop Curtis. My stomach flipped at the sight of him. How long had he been there for? "Soda," I hissed, shaking his arm. "Hey, Soda, wake up."

He opened his eyes and groggily said, "Hi, Laurie, how's the head?"

"Horrible," I replied. "How did I get here?"

"You were drunk, and you were gonna do somethin', uh, stupid, so I kept you in here. You sure can talk. I don't think you ever said a full sentence to me before last night." He grinned at me, and I grinned back, even though I felt like my head was going to explode.

"I didn't say anything stupid, did I?"

"No, just how much you hate your boring life."

I felt myself blushing. "Sorry, about that," I said.

"Don't worry about it. And I'm keeping my promise, I'm gonna teach you how to live."