The Greasers - {A Dallas Winston Fanfiction}

{Chapter One}

I peered through the open shades of my bedroom window at the hue of gold painted over the exposed exterior sides of the neighboring houses. The streets were empty as mothers reeled in their children for supper. However, I wasn't concerned about what was going on outdoors. My mind was clawing for ideas to use for a much more important cause. My English theme. I subconsciously chewed on the rear of my black ink pen while scraping through my mind in an attempt to find the right words for the hook.

My English teacher decided that in order for him to understand who we are as people, we have to write a five or more-page paper about a life experience that has changed our life. It had to be a topic that impacted us. The topic can't be an "on the surface" topic that lasts for about two pages and concludes with your revenge plan on your sibling for stealing your stuff. This is only the first topic out of the four we have to write this year. One for each quarter...

I huffed and I dropped the pen onto the blank notebook paper, tossing myself back into the dark oak chair. How was I supposed to pick one most influential life experiences when I have had multiple?

For instance, when I ate ten hotdogs in a row because Steve Randle, a guy in my gang, had dared me to and I learned never to listen to Steve again. Or that one time when I tried a piece of cake after Ponyboy attempted baking and I got food poisoning. I definitely learned to not eat something that was made by Pony after that. Maybe I could write something about family. Three annoying brothers and my folks. I could have possibly scraped together some "A" worthy paper.

I stared at the notebook, frustrated that no ideas were coming through to me. My mind began to wander around the topic of my friends. The gang that I spend the majority of my time with. My gang consisted of ten people. Darrel Curtis, Sodapop Curtis, Ponyboy Curtis, Jonathan Cade, Ashlyn Cade, Two-Bit Matthews, Dallas Winston, and Maria Evans.

Maria is the only Soc in our group. She wears nice clothes and always does her makeup nice. But money is about as far as the difference goes. Her father is a lazy nobody who takes out his anger on her. Her mother died when she was young and that's "her fault" in the eyes of her father. But even with her upbringing, she acts like a mom to all of us.

There are a lot of things that differentiate Greasers from Socs besides our lively activities. One of the biggest factors is our clothing. You will be able to tell if you're looking at a Soc or a Greaser if you take notice of the clothing style they have on. Socs tend to wear madras shirts and khaki pants thanks to their money-filled pockets. Greasers wear a lot of jeans and leather and most of the guys and a few of the girls like to grease their hair back to look tough.

The gang was like my big goofy family. We all looked out for each other like a family should. With the home lives of many of the members, we put it upon ourselves to make sure everyone knew what a caring family environment felt like. While only three of the members are my family through blood, I treated everyone else in the gang like a direct family. You have to be in our type of living situation. When you're in a gang, you have to be ready to stand up for anyone. Even if you don't like that person. It's only the biggest rule. If someone gets caught by the fuzz, you have to help get them out. The same rule applies to any allied gangs in the area.

I snapped back to reality and for the first time, today realized how much of a mess my bedroom is. Soda bottles were scattered everywhere along with textbooks, papers, and notebooks. Usually, I despise living under such conditions, but with how cluttered my mind has been with school, the mess never became an addressed issue until now. It wouldn't be as messy if Ponyboy didn't toss the soda bottles every which way. Ponyboy! He's doing the same project I am, so maybe he can help enlighten me with a few ideas.

Ponyboy was witty when it came to brainstorming school project ideas. He's helped me obtain my straight A's and avoided any lectures from Darry. I swung my legs to the right side of the chair and I shoved myself off the wooden seating, my knees weak for a few seconds before they regained their strength. I gathered up my reddish-brown hair and tied it back into a ponytail in case anyone but my brothers were over and I pulled open the white bedroom door and stepped into the kitchen. The room was filled with the warm smell of baked chicken and steamed vegetables.