Devil in disguise (Dallas Winston fan-fic)

Getting mad

Dallas was the guy I had slapped. He took his hand off my elbow and rubbed his cheek. He stared at the blood in his fingers and then at me. His mouth was half open and I heard his heavy breathing after being running. I didn't know what he was thinking but convinced myself he was serious.

"Dallas, are you okay?" I asked, putting a hand on his shoulder, but he pulled it off him roughly. "Listen, it was an accident. I thought you were one of those rich kids."

"Shut up, man. I know right. I saw you beating 'em up," he said, resting his hands on his waist.

"You should've helped me out there instead of watch the whole scene as if it were a movie," I stated, crossing my arms on my chest.

"I didn't have to. You did it all by yourself."

"Until the day when it turns the other way around," I answered, sarcastically. "I'm aware we don't know each other. But I'd help someone in a fight if it isn't fair at least."

He looked up and showed a grimace of disgust. "I'm not the helping kind, anyway," he shrugged.

Alright, I wasn't either, but at this point this boy was making me mad. How could anyone be so selfish? Well, maybe I was sometimes, but I was just trying to be kind to him once in a lifetime. I noticed he avoided looking at me most of the time. "You know, I'm sick of being kind to people. No matter how hard I try because I'm not this way, so I'm gonna say it: what the hell is wrong with you? You have a problem with me or something?"

He shrugged again, now looking down and playing it cool. "I don't know. Looks like I have a problem?" he answered.

I rolled my eyes. "I wouldn't have say it if you didn't have one. Don't lie 'cause you know it," I said before I continued walking to Steve's car. I looked back one more time. "We both aren't from Oklahoma. We're outsiders in this town. We should stand up for people like us, even if we feel tough enough to handle a situation by our own. Wouldn't you do the same for Johnny?"

"What ya wanna hear?" he yelled. "That I hate your fuckin' accent, your wiseass answers and your reading addiction. If you had bigger boobs and ass I'd have made out with you and forgotten you a while ago, man."

"I wanted you to help me 'cause I like you, asshole!" I yelled, feeling tears in my eyes again. I definitely wasn't going to cry in front of him or anybody else.

I walked away and left Dallas alone. How did I ever felt something towards this boy? I didn't manage to get an answer and, what was worse, I still liked him. I didn't care if I had shouted it in his handsome badass face, I knew he didn't like me and maybe with the time my feelings would fade out.

Dallas' POV

Fuck. The only word I could think of to say to myself. Why'd I explode in front of her like a damn bomb? She was new here, didn't know people could jump her and she managed to escape. Man, the fight was better than any movie they could play in the Nightly Double. I admire her guts. She didn't even carry a knife. They were two guys with a broken bottle against a lonely girl younger than them. No one could tell she wasn't tough.

When I saw those guys had hurt her I convinced myself to go see if she was okay. To check they didn't hurt her too bad. She had won my respect so I wanted to tease her a bit and then offer to take her home. And then (who knows?) maybe she'd like to show me her bedroom.

But she slapped me. I mean, many girls have slapped me and then is when you know it's time to try another strategy. This chick was more stubborn than any other girl I've gone out with before. I liked that, man. The more difficult to get, the more worthwhile she is. She wasn't scared to tell what she thought, she had proved it.

I understood why I'd told her these things I hated: it wasn't I hated them. They were all the things Pony seemed to like from her and I didn't wanted him to have. He couldn't have this girl with what she had just done, man. She was self-confident, tough and stubborn. And she was gonna be mine. The only girl I cared if anyone else dared to touch.

The only problem I had was you can't keep a girlfriend like her while you keep your reputation. She thought I was being mean (which I am proud of being) to her, and without a reason. But this was the way I had to be to survive in Tulsa. This is the way I had to be after coming from a place like New York. You can't change me and she was so stubborn I didn't think she could either. Man, what can you do when fate makes you meet a person you can't help thinking of but it's impossible you two end up together? I hate this damn world.

Carrie's POV

I waited until I laid on the bed to finally cry. Cry in silence, because didn't want my brother to notice. I say I 'cry' but is not exactly that, because it's very difficult to see tears actually streaming down my face. It's like you feel sad in the inside and you cannot do anything to let things out. I can't force it to happen. Steve took me home after I drank three beers of the six-pack Two-Bit had brought, watched the movie and cracked some jokes.

I kept thinking of Dallas and sobbing in the pillow waiting to fall asleep. I had told the guys about the fight I had with the rich kids, who they call 'socs', and both Steve and Two-Bit thought I did very well. Johnny just nodded and Pony seemed worried about the bruises and the cut in my arm. He wasn't a badass but he really cared and that meant a lot. However, I didn't tell him anything. I don't like talking about feelings and I still liked Dallas. I couldn't just replace him with Pony. I loved and hated Dallas at the same time and I wasn't able to understand. I decided to pretend nothing had happened with him, although he sure would hate me for the rest of my life. I didn't want the guys to notice anything. They'd laugh at me. Or maybe Darry not.

"Hmmm, we gotta stop, Dallas," I muttered, a little bit groggy.

"Time to wake up," my brother said, shaking me. I slowly opened my eyes and saw he had already dressed up. He was wearing his favorite flannel, jeans and Converse. He had his hair slicked to the side with grease. "Who's Dallas?"

I sat up on my bed and rubbed my eyes. He was going to pull the curtain to the side and I opened my eyes wide. "No, wait," I said before he pulled it and the bright daylight made me shut them back. "Ugh, let me sleep, brat," I complained. "What time is it?"

"10:30. Mum told me to wake you up or you'll be here until lunch," he smiled.

I stood up and noticed I hadn't changed into my pajamas when I arrived home. "Not really. I'm going to the Curtis' at 11:30. Hey, can I tell you something? Promise you won't tell anybody."

"Course. What is it?" he asked. I pulled him to the bathroom and closed the door behind us. Then I showed him the wound I received in the fight. The blood in my sleeves was already dry but I knew it would be difficult to wash it all off. "How did you get this?" he asked, stunned.

"Don't worry. It doesn't hurt now. Almost," I said. "Two guys jumped me yesterday night. I slapped one of them when he tried to kiss me. Just like I did with Marc when we were 8. Cool, huh?"

"If that's what you think... What you want me for?"

"Don't want our folks to see it. Can you hide the jacket 'til they do the laundry? I mean, throw it inside the washing machine while they are somewhere else," I ordered him, handing him the jacket after I had taken it off. "Do it now. I'm gonna have a quick shower. Right? Now go."

He gave me a funny glance and opened the door as I began to take all my clothes off. I turned on the water and tried my best to take charge of the cut in my arm. I didn't think I needed stitches, so I just covered it in Band-Aids.

I dressed up, putting my jeans, my boots and a clean T-shirt on. I put a flannel on to cover my arms and for my parents not to notice.

I stared at myself in the mirror. With this read and black flannel I looked pretty similar to a woodcutter. I nodded, satisfied with the result and I heard the phone ringing. My old lady answered and she called me from the living room. Someone wanted to talk with me.

"Hey, this is Carrie," I said, pulling the phone closer to my ear. The moment I recognized the voice on the other side I smirked.