That ride had ended as quickly as it started and soon, I was dragging everyone along with me ride after ride. I was having a BLAST. It was honestly one of the most fun-filled days I've ever had. There were so many memories we made there and so many things to look back to. Like how Two-Bit rocked the ferris wheel pod everytime we were at the top or when everyone tried real hard to win a prize to give me as a birthday gift. The usual things that Greasers like us would clown off to is what made days like this so special. Seeing the looks on everyone's faces on a 'scary' ride was pure gold to me. The best part was, there were no Socs, no Socs who bothered us anyway. Maybe it was TIME that they had seen we are just people that wanna have fun. People with a purpose and people who love eachother for who they are.
Maybe it had finally been enough after Johnny hurled on a ride, so we all started heading out a little past 5. We all wanted to make sure he wasn't sick so we climbed back in Steve's truck and went home. The whole ride back, we were yapping non-stop, it didn't feel nearly as long as the time it took going there. Steve pulled into the Curtiss' driveway, sending us off while we exchanged goodbyes. Dallas wanted to stay the night to avoid the ruckus at Buck's tonight, and to spend the rest of the day with us. I didn't think nothing of it, though, I was happy to spend time with them all.
Later that night, though, Soda and Pony were in the kitchen fixing up dinner when I had spaced out for a while on the couch, thinking about how I should've went home to see my parents on my birthday. They were only 2 streets away, but I felt guilty. Dallas coming out of the shower spotted me there, and for a split second was about to go to the other room, but turned back and started walking towards me when he noticed my expression. I didn't even realize him standing in front of me until he began to speak.
"What's wrong, doll?" Dallas asked worriedly.
I snapped back, and gawked at him for a while. Then a puzzled look crossed my face.
"What did you call me?" I questioned.
Dallas shook his head and sat down next to me on the couch.
"You look out of it, what's up?" He declared.
I sighed. "I don't know dude, I didn't talk to my folks today."
"Don't worry about them," Dal proposed.
"Easy for you to say, I don't see your parents around," I stammered. "Sorry..."
"No, it's okay," he said. "Thought about calling?"
"For what?" I started. "It's not like I'm sending them a 'happy birthday.'"
Dallas looked a bit hopeless for a second until a smile appeared on his face.
"Cheer up, you're 18 now," Dal consoled, bumping my shoulder. "Answer me this."
I looked at him, almost compelled.
"Did you have fun today?" He went on.
"Well, yea but-"
"That's all that matters, it's your day, not theirs." Dallas comforted.
I rested my head against my hand, my knee bouncing up and down while I looked around. I let out an audible sigh and looked back at Dal with a grin.
"I guess you're right," I affirmed. "Hey, thanks man."
I lean in to give Dallas a deep embrace when Ponyboy walks in, standing in the door frame when Dal notices.
"Food's done," he hesitated. "Am I interrupting something?"
"Oh, no!" I responded, putting my hands on my thighs and then standing up. "You hungry?" I say, turning to Dally.
He almost looked upset when I asked him, but smiled. "Yeah, I'm pretty hungry."
I grinned at him and he followed me into the kitchen. After we finished eating everyone was chatting in the living room when something came to mind like a bullet.
"Shit, I left my sketchbook at Two's." I blurted.
"We can pass by and get it tomorrow before we go to work," Darry responded.
"Nono, you don't get it, I have things in there I already know Two-Bit would be looking at right about n--" I cut myself off, putting my head down. "FUCK."
"I can go run and get it," Dallas let slip.
"You would?" I crowed. "Thank you, Dal."
Dallas was already almost out the door by the time I finished. I sat there frantically for several minutes but by the time Dallas got there, it was already too late. He barged in to Two-Bit and Steve flipping through the pages of masculine sketches drawn by myself. Two-Bit was laughing, saying "It looks like I'm looking through a porn magazine." Dallas ran for the sketchbook, standing over them trying to take it.
"Hey woah, woah, Dally, share the space will ya?" Two-Bit mocked, smiling.
"Just give me the book, man, it's for Y/N."
"Oh, we know." Two snickered. "Did you know about Y/N's passionate taste in men?"
"What?" Dallas tensed. "Look, I don't care, give me the book."
Two-Bit flipped to a page with a scribbled picture of Dallas. "A shame to have ruined it..."
Dallas swiped the sketchbook from Two-Bit, scoffing before taking off towards the door. He slammed the door shut and then started walking back to the house. He let his anger run out then got too curious and started to flip through my sketchbook. When he came across the picture of himself, he almost stopped in his tracks to stare at it. He tried not to make it a big deal, but couldn't help but feel a type of way about me he didn't feel before. He shook it off and approached the door, opening it reluctantly.
"I got it," Dallas reassured, handing me my sketchbook as he walked through the door.
I sighed in relief, gripping onto it tightly as I looked down at it.
"Did they get to it?" I queried.
"Uh..No," Dal paused. "They didn't get to it."
"Are you sure?" I jittered.
"Yea, it was on the table where you left it."
"You didn't look through it, did you?"
"No," he fibbed.
I sat back on the sofa, relaxing my muscles as I took a deep breath. I don't know what I'd do if someone had found out about me, especially the Socs.
~
Couple hours later, I find myself scribbling away at my sketchbook, completely in my own world. I remembered I was sitting next to Dallas when I'd come back to reality, and somehow he hadn't spoken a word to me. I thought that was pretty weird since he always seemed to be the kind to interrupt my thoughts. I looked over to Dal, he was sleeping, I think. I thought about moving to sit somewhere else to leave him the couch and I probably would have if his head didn't fall onto my shoulder.
I noticed Ponyboy looking over his book, raising his eyebrows slightly before looking back at his book.
"What'd you look at me like that for?" I whispered to him.
"Nothing," Pony whispered back.
I rolled my eyes, continuing to draw in my book, glancing over at Dal repeatedly. It wasn't an every day thing to have Dallas Winston sleeping on your shoulder, but I didn't really care. People refer to Dal as a 'good pillow' for sleeping on. Time ticked away and I started getting tired, but I kind of wanted to sleep on an actual bed. I forced myself to stand up, gently pushing Dallas aside.
"You should get to sleep too, Pony, you got school in the morning." I suggested. "I'm gonna get Dal a blanket or something."
"Alright," Pony closed the book and got up almost immediately, heading off to his room.
I walked over to the cabinet where they stored blankets and tossed one over Dallas who didn't look to be sleeping comfortably, but he'd probably end up moving anyway. I stood there for a second before going into the spare room where Darrel kept a mattress for me to sleep on ontop of an old, sturdy bed frame that looked antique. I tossed and turned for a while before finally drifting off to sleep.
~
The next day, I woke up earlier than usual, again, on an empty stomach. I sat up in the bed, stretching out my arms, my back cracking with them. I stepped out onto the cold floor and went straight to the kitchen and into the icebox. To my disappointment, there wasn't a thing that seemed appealing to me. I sat at the table for a while until I decided to go to the store. I went back in the spare room to pick out an outfit for today. I looked through a couple drawers in the dresser and took out a white muscle shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. It was a bit of my style, except the shirt had fit real snug on me. I didn't really care, though. Walking into the front, I saw Dallas sitting awake on the couch, kinda just dozed off.
"Mornin' Dal," I greeted, counting money and then shoving it into my jean pockets. "I'm heading out. Picking up sumthin' from the store."
Dallas looked at me, but didn't say anything. He looked like he wanted to, but nothing had come out.
"See you in a bit," I concluded, walking out the door.
I walked down the road for a while until I got to a nearby shop. I was looking in the foods section, trying to find something appetizing and then cashed out a few things at the register. I was walking with the bag in my hand as I walked out the door when I seen a group of Socs in the lot. I hoped they wouldn't notice me as I took off toward the street, but of course, they had.
"Hey look, it's a Greaser," I heard one of them yell.
I was running now, my eyes darting in the back of me. I heard rapid footsteps approaching from behind as I continued forward, hardly paying attention to where I was going. I tripped over a inclined piece of cement and took a hard fall, scraping both my knees. I tried to get up, but the Socs had already gotten to me and kicked me back down. I have to admit it, I was scared. There was five of them and only one of me, and I was already down. I tried kicking them away, ended up getting one of them in the balls, giving me a chance to get on my feet. Without thinking, I swung at one in the face, hitting them square in the jaw. I dodged another one's punch, shoving them in the stomach. And boy, did this get them upset.
This one guy charged at me, hitting me hard in the nose as I tumbled backwards, starting to feel thick blood escaping my nostrils. I put my hand up to my nose, looking back at it to see my fingers covered in dark red. I knew I was in deep shit now. One of them grabbed me by the shirt, punching me in the face again when I acted on impulse, pulling out my pocket knife, flipping open the blade. I then looked over my shoulder to see a Soc fall to the ground and a familiar voice.
"Get lost!!"
The Socs had all ran back to their mustang while I felt myself being lifted up by strong arms. I looked up, and it was Dally.
"Christ, you're bleeding." he mumbled, pausing a minute before putting me on his back, taking the bag of groceries, starting to walk quickly back to the Curtiss'.
"I can walk, you know," I complained.
"Yeah, but you don't look too good," Dallas advised.
It felt oddly comfortable being on Dallas's back, even though I didn't show it, trying to get down at every chance I had.
"Would you stop squirming?" He chided. "We're almost there."
"I want down," I groaned.
"No, you're in no condition to walk."
"Yeah huh." I argued.
I was practically leaning off of Dallas at this point, but he didn't drop me for nothing.
"You should've asked me to go with you," Dallas scolded.
"I'm old enough to fend for myself," I added.
"They all looked older than you." Dal went on. "And that ain't the point."
"Dal, I'm older than you." I sassed.
"Not as tough, either."
"Says who?" I scoffed, messing up his hair.
"I do," he said, in a serious tone.
"Unbelievable." I smirked.
Dallas took me back into the house, bringing me into the bathroom, dropping me on the lid-closed toilet. I was still holding my blade out, almost forgetting about it completely. Dallas handed me a towel for my nose and then noticed the blade in my hand. Snatching the towel from him, Dallas held out his hand.
"Give me that," he demanded.
"No, it's mine," I spoke back.
"Give me that, please."
"I don't think I've ever heard you say 'please' before in my life, Winston," I chuckled, and Dallas quickly took the blade from me.
"YOU-"
"I asked nicely," he interrupted, putting the blade in his pocket.
I rolled my eyes and went to scratch my head when my hand brushed against a cut on my left cheek, making me wince in pain. Dallas saw me flinch and stepped closer to me, putting his finger under my jaw to move my face. What did he think he was doing?? I was too shocked to speak, of course, and just sat there feeling my face heat up. He let go and walked away into the kitchen to get something, while my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I couldn't think, but Dallas had touched my face. I didn't know what to feel.
Dallas walked back into the bathroom with a towel of soap and water in one hand and some antibiotic cream in the other. He started to clean my wound thoroughly, and all I could do was watch. I had no idea what I was feeling right now, but I hadn't felt any type of resentment towards him anymore.
"Your face is hot--" Dallas cut himself off. "I mean, temperature-wise. Are you sick?"
"What? No?" I responded.
"Then why are you heating up?" Dal pondered.
I shrugged at him while he stared at me for an extended period of time. Staring, just for no reason.
"Keep asking me questions and I'm smearing this blood on you," I joked, holding up my bloody towel.
"You're sick," Dallas smiled, stepping over to the sink to wash his hands.
"My nose hurts..." I mumbled, rubbing it with the towel.
"No duh, you got punched, Y/N."
"Yea, yea."
Dallas looked like he was about to say something. "It-- Nevermind. Just continue stopping the blood, would ya?"