Ashley Curtis... Ponyboy's sister...

Did you say ten hut or grease dud? - chapter 6

"Hey, Ash?" called Ponyboy, "Can you go get the football in the backyard?"

"Where is it?" I asked. Dally walked up behind me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"I'll show her." Dally said. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the back of the house. I don't know why, but my heart skipped a beat and I gasped when he grabbed my hand. It seemed... Weird... In a good way. Hmmm...

Dally was looking around for the football when he said, "Here it is!" He picked up the football and tossed it to me. It slipped right through my fingers. Dallas looked at me funny.

"What?" he said, "You never played football before, gal? Need me to teach ya?"

"Nah!" I said, throwing a perfect pass right at him. He seemed surprised. We played a ten minute game of catch until we heard Darry yell, "What the hell are you two doing back there?! Did you see ol' Curly walking by?!" he teased. A few guys(or possibly all of them, including Dallas) started giggling.

"Shut up, Superman!" I yelled. "I just found the football. If it wasn't such a mess back here, it wouldn't have taken so long!"

Dally was still laughing as we walked back to the group of boys. Of course, I could tell that Sodapop was the one who told everyone about Curly Shepherd(my first crush) because Ponyboy promised not to tell, meaning he would never tell, and Darry remembers that day as a dark memory(like my parents death) and didn't begin bringing it up till just lately. Sodapop had no reason to keep it a secret.

Once Dally and I were in the front yard once again, it was time to pick teams.(or, more realistically, get told which team we were on by Darry)

"Alright," Darry said, "Team one: Pony, Johnny, Ash, and I. Team two: Two-bit, Dal, Soda, and Steve. Get it. Got it? Good."

"Hey, Ash?!" Dally called from across the yard as we got ready to play. "Word of advice, don't check if you broke a nail until after the game."

I stuck my tongue out at him, the way Soda does to Darry to diminish his self esteem.

"Dallas," I called, "Word of advice, when I beat you so bad that you can't sit down for a week," I pushed my hair out of my face, "don't check if your eyeliners running down your face until after the game." I smirked and he grinned, as if we had switched sides.

"Ten hut!" Darry yelled. He passed the ball back to Pony, and Pony slowly retreated.

I went long. "I'm open, Pony!" I yelled.

Before I had to call Ponyboy's name again, he threw me a perfect pass. I ran, faster than lightning. Two-bit nearly tackled me, but missed. So did Dally. I made a touchdown and started screaming the words, "Woohoo!!! I am a Greaser!!!!!" Over and over again.

"That's it!" Dally yelled, his eyes blazing "No little Curtis girl beats Dallas Winston! I want a rematch!"

"Sure!" I said, "But promise that you won't cry. I can't stand to see guys with big blue eyes cry." I walked up to him and flipping up his collar. I grabbed his sunglasses, putting them on and walking back toward Ponyboy.