Olivia is a 16 year-old girl living in 2024 (time I started writing this book) in Tulsa Oklahoma. Tulsa praises the greasers who saved kids from burning in a church. One of them, Ponyboy Curtis, wrote a book about his experience. One morning, Olivia...
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Olivia's POV
This will be a short chapter, since this is an introduction into what's happening
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
I got out of school, knowing I was about to have a LOT of homework that night. I walked over to my car (a black Lexus 2015 RX 350), turning it on and powering on my phone too. I played my Spotify playlist then checked my makeup. I had dark brown eyes and black hair. I was wearing a black cropped tank top, a black jacket that I wore off-shoulder, and blackish gray jeans. I wore a silver necklace that said my name (Olivia), rings, and earrings. I had special Halloween nails that were black and had white details. There were some spiderwebs on a couple nails and little ghosts.
I had turned sixteen a couple weeks ago, so I had been driving for a while. I had gotten used to driving by this point. I backed out of the high school parking lot, heading to the nearest Starbucks (I was tired and wanted a pink drink and blueberry muffin, don't judge). After that, I headed home.
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When I walked through the door, my dog, Banjo, immediately came up to me, wagging his tail excitedly.
"Hey, buddy!" I said in a high voice (the one you do when you talk to an animal). "Does Banjo want his food?"
I set down my backpack, keys, pink drink, and muffin. He led me to his bowl, walking in a circle and whining. I gave him his two cups of food, let Banjo outside, grabbed my stuff and headed upstairs to my room.
I opened my AirPods to listen to Spotify, then reread The Outsiders. Almost sixty years ago, the greasers in Tulsa, Oklahoma, would get attacked by Socs, the rich kids. Ponyboy Curtis had written The Outsiders, where he explained his experience in first person. Most of them are still alive, but I had only seen them for a split second. Johnny Cade, a kid who had murdered a Soc sixty years ago to save Ponyboy, had saved kids from burning in a church. Despite the injuries, he was able to almost fully recover, just having a couple back problems now. Dallas Winston had also gone to therapy, after Johnny survived. Well, after like five years he did.
I admired their story, and reread it a couple times. I read for 30 minutes before having to force myself to start homework.
I had an alcoholic father, and a loving mother who had left my dad a couple years ago. She moved to another country, but wrote to me (since it's more personal) all the time. She was the only reason I had a car. My dad would beat me for stupid reasons. Luckily, I still had Banjo.
After working for a couple hours, I ate dinner and showered, then went to bed. Banjo jumped up on my bed to sleep with me.
Little did I know, that was the last time my life would be normal.
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