sour

chapter 1

BEFORE READING: i'm using the physical appearances of the greasers in the movie, not as described in the book. I vaguely describe oc's (Natalia and Beverly) bc I want the reader to kind of have their own ideas of what they look like etc. Natalia is an oc from my other book "me & the greasers (a dally love story)" her storyline will correlate with the other one but I don't think you have to read it, but please feel free to, it adds spice and also it's another outsiders fic. anyways hope ya'll enjoy :)
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NATALIA'S POV

"Hurry up Natalia. I'm leaving soon," I heard my father yell from the room below me. I cringed at the loud booming of his voice. Quickly tossing the little bit of clothes and belongings I owned into two suit cases and rushing to his car. Today was finally the day I could escape this shit hole. Most of my life I lived with my father in Boston, Massachusetts. When I was super young, before I can remember, my mom and brother left us in the dust, that's the story I was told at least. I don't really blame them though, I would've done the same. They went all the way to Oklahoma, I have no idea why, but soon enough I would be joining them. I was excited but mostly nervous, I had so many questions like why they would leave me with this piece of shit father, if I can even call him that.

I'd only seen pictures of what my older brother looked like, old pictures from when he was a toddler. His name was Keith Matthews and that was pretty much all I knew about him. I resembled him in the slightest, or at least his younger self, sharing the same nose shape. I was unsure of how much he might've changed since the photo I had. However my hair was colored a reddish dark blonde while his was a mixture of light brown and blonde just like my mother. I always kept the photo of my mother close to me, although my father tried to eliminate practically every trace of her presence in his life. She was beautiful in the worn down photo, her short blondish brown hair curling over her shoulders and her red lipstick vividly popping off the paper.

I wanted to believe that she left for a good reason and didn't choose to leave me behind. Either way, she couldn't have been much worse than my father so when I turned fourteen my only wish was to get away from him. And it didn't seem like he had much of a problem with it either, except for the work he had to put into finding her. My father had been a distant person for as long as I can remember and he was never pleasant to be around. I found my happiness in hanging out with my best friends and spending anytime away from the house. They were the reason I remained in Boston for so long. But once my dad's punishments became physical, they thought it was a good idea for me to get as far away from him as possible, and they were right. My father hadn't hit me before, when I was younger and more innocent. But once my teenage years hit and I began to stay out past curfew and go to parties now and then he would throw a fit. One night when I got home real late he slapped me hard across my face. And that was the last straw. He was always quiet and closed-off, but on the rare occasion he did talk to me it was negative.

The ride to Tulsa was silent and awkward. I'd said good bye to my friends over our short break from school. Sadly I'd be starting all over at a new school in Oklahoma. Part of me was excited to hopefully make new friends and live a happier life with my mother. But the possibilities of what could go wrong overwhelmed me, making me sick to my stomach the whole ride there. It was a really long ride but I slept for half of it and when I woke up we were parked out front of a single house. The front lawn was pretty much dead, probably due to the freezing temperatures and the screen door looked like it was about to fly off the hinges at any moment. The other houses lining up and down the street didn't look much better. I figured this was the place. My new home.

"Bye," I mumbled to my dad, and to my surprise he hugged me. Without saying another word he sped off, leaving me and my two bags on the freezing curb in front of a random house. Miles away from the only home I ever knew.