𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 , 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬

six.

MADELINE WINSTON

no matter how quiet i am with my legs thrown over the side of the bed to pull on a long sleeve shirt, i still manage to wake dallas up.

the bed squeaks behind me and his voice follows shortly after, "how ya feelin, kid?"

"all right. my head hurts, but i'm all right." i look over my shoulder at him. he's still in the same sprawled position on his back that he fell asleep in—he didn't move once throughout the night. "maybe i should be asking you that."

"yeah yeah." he mutters, pulling himself out of bed. "come downstairs with me."

i follow him out of pony's old bedroom and down the stairs. it's warmer down here with the heat circulating better and the bright morning sun shining through the windows.

"the winston siblings." two-bit shakes his head with a beer bottle in his hand while sitting on the couch in the living room. "it never gets old."

"do you ever go home?" my eyebrows furrow as dallas goes rummaging through the bathroom cabinets.

"don't you worry 'bout it, kiddo." two-bit holds up his finger at me and then takes a swig of his drink.

"here," my shoulder is nudged by dallas. "two ibuprofen to help with your head." he holds out two small, red pills and a glass of water for me.

"thanks." i take them from him and swallow each pill.

"how ya doin, mad?" darry asks, walking into the kitchen.

"i'm good. hey, thanks for fixing me up while i was passed out cold."

"of course. that's my specialty." a few seconds of silence pass while darry and i smile at each other as he works on the buttons on his shirt. he always seems to finish getting dressed in the kitchen for some reason.

dallas clears his throat, pulling darry and i's attention to him.

"darry? where's steve?" soda asks in a rushed tone.

"uh—i thought he already left?"

soda stops in his tracks, "great! that's just great."

now that darry is distracted, dallas has time to shake his head at me with a look of disappointment. he heads into the living room and grabs his jacket, "don't let pony tell anymore socs that she's my sister."

"i don't think pony's gonna be the problem, dal. cherry probably told them all by now." darry says.

dallas rolls his eyes and leaves the house without another word to me, so i immediately run after him. i stand on the front porch for a second as i close the door behind me; he's walking down the street with a cigarette in between his lips.

"dally, wait up!" i jog out to the road to catch up with him. "cherry doesn't like me not because of her boyfriend bein' a bum, but because of you, doesn't she?"

he continues to look straight ahead as we walk side by side, his eyes are squinted as he inhales puffs from his cancer stick.

"i heard how she talked to you last night. what'd ya do to her, dallas?" i ask with a sympathetic tone in my voice.

"i didn't do nothin'. i just ... i thought maybe she'd like me."

i never thought about how dally has the tendency to get lonely like the rest of us. to me, he always seems good on his own. from just the few days i've been here in tulsa, i've definitely picked up on the fact that dallas is known as the town's bad boy. he's every cop and father's worst nightmare and every young woman's crush—or worst nightmare, depending on if you're cherry valance or not.

it's obvious dallas has picked up more than a few girls here and there, but i never thought about how he might want someone to stand by him at all times, like, god forbid, a girlfriend.

"well, maybe if you gave her some time to cool down over my existence, she'd realize how much of a dick her boyfriend is and give you a shot." i suggest my thoughts while kicking a rock with my foot.

"yeah, i don't think that's gonna work. not now that she's hit my little sis."

i smile to myself—this is the first time he's acknowledged me as his little sister, out loud, and sober. sure he's probably hungover, but it counts for something in my book.

"where're we goin'?" i ask as we turn an unfamiliar corner.

"buck's. since you're taggin' along, i'm gonna show you where i live."

•

dallas and i walk to buck's making some small talk along the way. he leads me up a few steps into the bar he resides above. there are a couple men sitting at the bar with filled glasses in their hands; morning drinkers i suppose. they remind me of two-bit.

dallas waves to the bartender who's cleaning a few glasses behind the bar.

"that's a young one you got there, dallas. you sure you know what you're doin'?" he asks in a concerned way.

"she's my sister, jackass." dallas says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "buck, meet madeline. madeline, meet buck."

"nice to meet you, madeline." buck nods his head at me. "i hope you're nothing like your brother. one winston around here is enough."

i laugh as dallas gets pissed off.

"yeah, okay, nice seein' ya, buck." he mutters, motioning me along around the corner that leads to stairs.

i follow him up and into the room at the end of the short hallway.

"well, this is it. it's not much; not like the curtis', but—"

"it's great." i say, taking a look around. sure, the walls are unpainted, or maybe they were at one point, but now they just appear to be old and dirty, but it's my brother's place and i love it. i sit on the edge of his bed which is actually quite comfortable.

"where'd that come from?" i'm startled by the sight of him holding a gun in his hands.

he points to the drawer that's open and then puts it back under some clothes, "just making sure it's still here."

"you ever use that thing?"

"i usually use it just to scare people, but if i have to use it, i will." he comes to sit beside me on the bed. "so what do you think?"

"it's nice."

"don't lie."

"it is!" i laugh. "i think it's cool you live above a bar; must be fun at night."

"yeah," he scoffs. "but if you ever stay over with me, you're not allowed down to the parties. we don't need another drunk in this family."

"i can stay over sometime?" i feel my eyes light up with excitement.

"yeah, sure i don't care. so look kid, i gotta ask. how bad did it get with dad?"

"y—you know," i stutter. "like how it was with mom; how he'd always hit her in the face. with you it was always a full blown fight, throwing each other against shit. it was the worst when he'd bring his friends around. i'd do anything to get out of that house for the night."

"if he were here right now, i'd smash his face so hard into that wall nobody would be able to identify him after. i'm never letting anyone treat you the way he did ever again, you hear me?"

"yeah, dallas. i hear you."

"that's why i want you keeping your distance from darry from now on."

"what?" i ask, quickly turning to look at him.

"i see the way he looks at you. he acts like it's his responsibility to make sure you're safe at all times, and that's my job."