Winstons |The Outsiders|

9. We're Greasers

"Fuckin' Socs, man," Dallas swore as he, Hannah, Ponyboy and Johnny watched the blue mustang take off. Dallas scoffed loudly while Johhny let out a low, shaky breath. To Hannah's left, Ponyboy stopped wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans. Dallas turned on his heel and started up the steps into the bar. "Head back to the house, tell the gang what happened. I'll catch up."

Pony and Johnny nodded, Hannah went to follow them. She paused when the door slammed shut, and Buck's angry voice travelled.

"Get the fuck outta here, Dal!"

"I have your money you dumb bitch!"

She laughed and slapped Pony on the shoulder. "C'mon, before Buck really shoots him, and says it was an accident."

The three made themselves scarce and were soon walking up Tulsa's main street. The walk was a quiet one, Johnny didn't speak much, and Hannah assumed Ponyboy didn't want to start a conversation. That changed however when the three caught up with Curly Shephard.

"Hey Curtis," the boy called. His hand dipped into a chip bag before throwing the snack into his mouth. He sent a curt nod to Johnny before his eyes landed on Hannah. He choked. 

Ponyboy slapped him on the back twice. "How's it hangin' Curls?"

Hannah stood beside Johnny and smirked when a small smile reached his lips. Her smile vanished when Curly stopped coughing. Still, she enjoyed the cautious look he sent her way.

"Oh, y'know, same old. What're you doing coming from Buck's? Thought Darry said he'd skin you," Curly asked. Ponyboy quickly filled him in on paying for Buck's tires, and the Rumble Friday night. Due to a lack of entertainment, Curly began walking with the trio.

With her hands jammed in her pockets, Hannah blew away a stray piece of hair before she spoke. "What's a Soc anyway?"

"The 'social elite'. They live on the Westside, have nice clothes, cars, houses, the whole nine yards. They hate guys like us, and jump us for kicks," Ponyboy spoke bitterly. Curly interrupted before Pony could finish his thought.

"An' we're Greasers, poor kids on the East. We get into fights, steal, drink and smoke, we're hoodlums. Hey, didn't they give Johnny those scars? There was a big Rumble after that."

On the other side of Pony, Johnny swallowed uncomfortably while pulling at the collar of his jean jacket. "Yeah, they did. I wasn't doing nothin' either, just walkin' home."

In an instant, Hannah flattened her own collar, exposing the ragged scar Tony left behind. "I got jumped the day before I left New York, he cut me pretty good."

"Holy shit," Curly swore. He stopped walking and stared at Hannah, dumbfounded. "You're his sister, ain'tcha?"

Hannah didn't stop walking, neither did Johnny or Pony. "You're definitely not the brains of the operation, are you Shephard?"

They laughed while Curly caught up with them once more. "'Bout the other day," he started awkwardly. "Sorry, Tim nearly bashed my head in for not letting you go." He furrowed his brows and tried to lower his voice, mocking his brother. "When a girl says 'get off,' you get off. We're Greasers, not sex offenders."

"Oh, hey Tim," Johnny said off-handedly. Curly damn near jumped out of his skin while Johnny, Pony and Hannah chuckled.

Hannah looked over her shoulder and saw nothing but empty streets.

So, Johhny has a sense of humour.

Coming back to the house, the gang reacted like any teenage boys would, angry and ready to fight. Steve and Sodapop took turns slapping each other's shoulders, Two-Bit yelled something no one could understand. Darry was the worst of them all.