Faltering Smiles.

Day One.

Dallas' POV

Soda is such a nervous wreck it's got me worried. The guards are escorting us into the shower rooms. We'll get five minutes to wash ourselves, then we'll be given orange jump suits to put on along with white undershirts and black slip ons. Then they'll tell us where our cell is and throw us out into the yards. I can handle it. I've been here before and long enough that I know the drill. Soda...not so much. We get into the showers and I strip down to nothing quickly.

"Soda, be fast, you only got five minutes."

He wipes his face and hastily gets going with his shower. I can't help but find my eyes lingering over him occasionally. Hes eye candy and everyone in here is gonna know it the moment he shows his pretty little face in there. Fuck. This isn't good. I rush through my shower and continue to tell Soda every minute that time is almost up. When the water turns off, he whines, and we make our way towards the exit where two guards hand us each a towel and our garmets. We dry off and get dressed. Soda actually looks kind of adorable considering his jumper is a size or two too big for him. He won't talk to the guards, I can tell he's still not grounded yet. Soda has a feisty side to him, a reckless side. But right now he's still in too much shock to be tough. We get escorted down to the yard and they shove us outside. It's bright but cloudy. A bunch of eyes land on us and I ignore them as I drag Soda along. I nod at the men I recognize, and I glare at the ones I don't. There's a few people I've noticed looking at Sodapop a little more than they should be, and it makes me a little antsy. We sit down at an old wooden picnic table far from the crowds of people. Some still stare, others go back to what they were doing before we came.

"Dal, Darry is probably worried sick..."

"Soda, they probably already told him you're in here. Don't worry about it. We should be out of here in a matter of days at best. Two weeks at the very most."

Soda gives me those puppy dog eyes and purses his lips together. I can tell he's mad. Hes calming down and that's good. Once he's comfortable, I know he'll be okay in this place. We use the deck of cards on the table to start making a castle. It's a boring game Soda used to play when he was a kid, but I do it anyways because I know I can't just leave him on his own. If anyone got ahold of this kid in here, it'd be bad. He doesn't understand how dangerous this place can be. No matter how strong you are, you're weak compared to the groups of guys in here. That's why I keep to myself and mind my own buisness. I stay out of the way and don't bug no one. I gotta make sure nothing bad happens to Soda. For Darry's sake and sanity. And for my own. I'd feel pretty awful if I got him into this mess and then he got hurt.

"Dallas?"

"Yeah Soda?"

He blinks up at me and bites his lip looking unsure. It makes me curious because he has barely spoken to me in the passed few hours unless it's to cuss me out. Which this is the one and only situation where he can rightfully do so. As I wait for his answer, I stack another few cards and watch the tower shake.

"I'm freaked out... Am I gonna be put into a cell with strangers?"

"You might be. But this is a low level jail... We should just be thrown into a bunk cell like the one we were in last night. It'll be a bit smaller though."

He shifts and purses his lips together tightly. Not the answer he wanted. He looks off into the distance in the sky and I can see a few guys approaching from behind coming towards our table. I recognize a few of them. They don't like me.

"What can I help ya with, Sarge?"

"Who's this? Your new girlfriend? Tired of being the bitch Winston?"

My face heats and boils with rage and embarrassment. Soda looks at me unsure and uncomfortable as he switches seats from across to beside me. The guys sit across from us as the tower of cards fall and fly across the yard.

"This is a friend of mine. None of your buisness. Why don't you walk the fuck on."

"I can't do that. You see, we have stuff to talk about. And you just so conveniently happen to be here. Let's go have a talk."

"I ain't going no where."

"You don't have a choice, Tucker. Let's go."

Soda looks at me even more unsure and scared. But he hides the fear well. I turn and face him, to let him know I don't have much of a choice but to go 'talk' with this guy.

"Tucker?"

"It's my middle name."

"Oh."

"Just stay here. I'll be right back Pepsi."

He nods at me and I stand up. We walk away from the bench, leaving poor Soda surrounded by these freaks watching him and trying to get a word out of him. He won't talk. He just glares. Despite his pretty face, he can look tough. Even in an oversized jumper. We get back behind the shed in the yard and no one is to be seen. By now, it should be known that the guy I walked off with is twice my size in pure muscle and there's history behind why I don't like him. It's not something I like to talk about and the only person who knows the real story is Darry. I told him one night after he picked me up bruised and bloody from being gang raped before I was released. After the first time, it became ordinary for it to happen each and every time I got thrown in here. Always by the same people. It happens to all of the younger guys in this jail if they stay long enough. There's no point in fighting it. I figured that out a long time ago. And so long as we get out of here fast and I keep Soda off the radar, he should be fine. Pants are dropped and my stomach sinks. Nothing ends until the guards yell that yard time is over. I pick myself up, put myself back together, fake a tuff look back on my face- and go take Soda inside to our assigned cell.

This is gonna be the longest few days of my life.