As I walked down the hallway of Rogers High School in Tulsa, Oklahoma, I loved and hated being back. I was only a Sophomore in high school, but I was already sick of it. Though I admit, it wasn't as bad as junior high. Sure, I was glad to see my friends again and join the drama club, but I also had to face the two things I hated most, math and Socs.
My name is Christine Gibson, but my friends call me Chris. I have dark brown hair and greenish-gold eyes. I'm 16 years old, but I'm pretty small compared to most girls my age. Heck, I know some twelve year olds that are taller than me. I wouldn't say I'm ugly, but I'm not particularly stunning either. Maybe my being a "Greaser" has something to do with that.
We Greasers come from the Northeast side, or the poorer side of town. We wear leather or denim jackets and blue jeans and dirty, hand-me-down converse or boots. The guys grease up their hair while the girls tease it. We're the tough, hard, rough-and-tumble kids who always seem to be in trouble, whether we did anything or not. Then, there are the Socials, the Socs. They wore madras or letterman jackets, highwater khaki pants and loafers, drove fancy cars, and jumped Greasers. They came from the Southwest side of town, the rich side. They were the snobby, rude, stuck-up kids who would also get in trouble, but never without cause. Let me put it this way: The Greasers like and look like Elvis, while the Socs like and look like the Beatles.
Anyway, I made my way through the school and found my first class, English, my favorite! I was one of the first kids inside, so I sat down and watched the other kids file in. A couple of Soc girls glared at me as they walked in, but I didn't care. Then, in came Hazel Turner, one of my best friends. I smiled when I saw her and she smiled back. She quickly walked over and sat at the desk next to mine. Our whispering slowly grew louder as more kids came in.
It was pretty loud when the teacher finally came in. She briskly walked to her desk and tapped her ruler on it. Everyone sat down at their desks and gave her their attention. Well, mostly everyone. "Good morning class, I am Mrs. Kirby and I will be your English teacher this year." That day had lots of: "Hello, I am (so and so), and I will be your (fill in the blank) teacher this year."
Overall, it was a pretty good day. I sit next to Hazel in English, and with my friend Meg Anderson in science. I did know more people, but there were only a few that I was really friends with.
At the end of the day, I was outside waiting for my older brother, Andy, so we could walk home. Then someone walked by that I didn't expect to see. "Ponyboy?" I called out. He quickly spun around and looked at me with a somewhat confused face, which relaxed when he realized who I was.
"Oh, hey Chris," he replied.
I asked him somewhat awkwardly, "Are you...going to school here?"
"Yeah, I'm a Freshman."
It was kinda hard to get Ponyboy to say more than five words at once. He wasn't always that way though.
Almost a year ago, his parents had been killed in a car wreck. Most, if not all, of the Greasers knew the Curtis brothers, Darrel, Sodapop, and Ponyboy (no, those aren't nicknames).
"How do you like it so far?" I asked, trying to make conversation.
"It ain't bad. There sure are a lot of Socs that come here."
"Yeah, you'll learn to ignore 'em. They're pretty civil during school."
There was a bit of an awkward pause.
"Are you waiting for your brother?" Pony finally asked, "Yeah, he should be out in a minute. Speaking of that, where's Sodapop? I haven't seen him today." Soda was a little older than me, but he was in my grade, and I didn't see him in any of my classes.
"He uh..." Pony started, "He had to drop out." I could tell that he felt bad saying that.
"Oh no, really? How come?"
"He had to get a job to help Darry pay the bills and stuff. Plus, he was flunkin' a lotta his classes anyway."
That was true, I remember some of the teachers getting frustrated with Soda. Especially in math.
"Well I guess that's as good a reason as any, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess."
Then I felt someone give me a light punch in the shoulder. I turned around to see my brother.
"Hey Andy, you ready?"
"Yep, lets go"
I turned back to Ponyboy as we started walking.
"See you around!"
"Yeah, see ya."
