The Outsiders: Before My Time | Sodapop & Dally

The Outsiders: The Beginning

--A FEW MONTHS LATER--
September

I grew accustom to the way of life as a Greaser girl in 1965. School had ended, hot summer days drifted into warm summer nights. Summer came and went. Classes recently started back up and the nights grew colder. I was being accepted as a part of their gang, and I was hanging out with them with pretty much everything they did. They didn't seem to mind, I think they all liked my company.

During the summer, I worked a lot at the DX. Mornings, afternoons, and nights. My main job was to fill gas tanks and ring up customers buying road snacks while Steve and Soda could focus on working on cars in the stuffy garage. I wasn't a car girl, but when I got bored I would grab some bottles of Coke and hangout with the guys. It was so cute how excited they got when I expressed some interest in their passion and when they'd teach me something new about cars.

Working at the DX, I get to hear all of the town gossip. We have regulars who come in all the time and they usually talk to me about their lives while Soda or Steve are filling up their tanks or taking a look at their engines. I get tipped more than the guys, which pisses Steve off.

Sometimes during school I'd go over there during my lunch period to get snacks and to just hangout with Soda. And Steve, of course. They liked when I came around, they said it brightened their day. Soda never made me pay for the snacks I got for lunch. He claimed it's because I work there, but sometimes Steve would make me pay because 'just because you work here, don't mean you get stuff for free'.

I think I am fitting in relatively well at school now. I've made friends and it feels like a lot of people seem to know who I am, even if I don't know who they are. Greasers and Socs alike. Students will stand and stare at me as I walk by like I'm still the weird new girl. Some students love me and are so sweet and kind to me, while some seem to fear me, as if I'm stalking the halls and will attack them with any sudden movement. I have no idea what their problem is, and I can't guess why. Maybe Mark Kenner went around telling everyone I was clinically insane. Maybe I am. I'm just going with the flow at this point.

Darry, Sodapop, and I were walking back home from the grocery store. I have been pitching in for the groceries and other household necessities, and I clean a lot too in exchange for living there rent free. I really try my best to pitch in to show Darry my appreciation for him. I don't want him to feel under-appreciated. One thing I learned that we don't buy from the grocery store is milk, because the guys get home milk deliveries delivered by a milkman in glass bottles. I swear we get deliveries every other day. We drink a lot of milk.

Every week I buy flowers for the dining table, and I think the boys secretly love it. From pictures I've seen, it looks like their mom used to buy flowers for the house all the time. Today, I picked some up when we were at the market. Brown Daylilies, that just so happened to match Soda's dark brown eyes. I kept them in a separate bag so they wouldn't get squished with the other groceries. We didn't bother to use a car since it was nice outside and it's so close. I wasn't sure where anyone else was besides Ponyboy. Ponyboy was at the movies.

"I feel like this bag is gonna rip," I mumbled as I lifted the bag away from my body so I wouldn't accidentally kick it. It was heavy with a bag of sugar, dish soap, and a can of tomato sauce. I don't know why I was given the heaviest bag to carry all the way home.

"Put it down and we can switch," Soda offered. I set the bag down and he handed me his. I pulled up the sleeve of the grey flannel I stole from Soda this morning and I grabbed it. It was about as light as a feather with nothing but oatmeal, coffee filters, and toilet tissue.

I nearly gasped, "I could carry this with my pinky."

Soda wheezed as he lifted the bag up so he could hold it against his hip. "God almighty."