The Outsiders Fanfic: Where Does the Time Go?

Chapter 4: Meetin' the Boys

A/N: This chapter is longer, as promised! BTW, in an effort to use the language from this time period, there are some words in here that aren't actually words, and I put quotation marks around them, for example, 'frona' for front of. You'll see what I mean... 

Also, just a reminder that this story takes place after Johnny was jumped, but Johnny never kills Bob, which may or may not be explained in this fanfic.

Spencer's POV:

"I dunno it was some soc!" I hear a guy say.

"You don't know him?" another asks.

"If I knew him I would tell ya! Geez Johnny!"

"You sure he wasn't wearing no rings?" Johnny asks.

"Yes, for the 5th time, I ain't never seen these socs, she must've pissed 'em off real good."

"Shoot man, you know socs, but beatin' up a girl like her, that ain't how it's 'sposed to be," Johnny says. Just then, I hear a door slam and footsteps approaching.

"Hey Dally, this her?" a boy asks, entering the room.

"Yeah Soda," Dally says.

"What happened?" Soda asks.

"I was just walkin' back from the Dingo when I saw them socs wailin' on her. Ain't like nothin' I'd ever seen before. They were beating her to a bloody pulp. I pulled out my switch blade and ran in 'frona' her. They ran after that, but she was knocked out cold," Dally explains.

"So you brought her back here?" asks a man.

"Well ya know I didn't wanna bring 'er to the hospital, and I couldn't just leave her. Sorry Darry, if this is some inconvenience to you!" Dally says, a little irritated.

"Nah, it ain't an inconvenience. You carried her by yourself?" Darry asked.

"Yeah, ain't nothin'," Dally says.

Another boy pipes up, "Well, she's a fine lookin' broad!" I can hear that he must've been hit in the stomach,  because he makes a weird gurgling noise.

"Shuddup Steve! She's unconscious!" says another, young boy. I struggle to open my eyes, tired of being able to only hear and not see.

"I think she's comin' to!" says one of the boys. I open my eyes to about 7 boys.

"Uh.. hey..." I say, my voice raspy.

"Hey, how ya feeling?" asks a boy, who I'm pretty sure was Soda.

"Uh.. I feel out of it.. and confused.." I say.

"Well, you were gettin' beat up pretty bad, I pulled them socs off ya, but you were unconscience, so I brought you back here," the first voice, Dally, says.

"Where exactly is here?" I ask.

"The Curtis's house," Dally says.

"Which is where?" I ask, still confused.

"Tulsa," Dally replies.

"Tulsa?" I wonder.

"Tulsa, Oklahoma. You hit your head pretty bad?" Dally asks. I'm in Oklahoma?

"Well that explains why you all are talking so strange. Why are you dressed like that?" I ask, noticing their leather jackets.

"Like what?" asks one of the boys, wearing a Mickey Mouse shirt.

"Like, old," I say, "and it's hot out, why aren't you all in t-shirts and shorts?" I ask.

"We don't dress old! And we ain't no soc," says one of the boys, sipping on a beer. I suddenly notice that at least two of the boys are smoking, and three are drinking beers.

"Aren't you all a little young to be smoking and drinking?" I ask, a new question every minute.

"No?" they all say.

"Well, how old are ya?" I ask, their southern accent sticking to me.

"Shoot!" one of the boys says, "We ain't even introduced ourselves! I'm Sodapop Curtis, you can call me Soda. I'm 16-going-on-17 years old, I'll be 17 on October 8th!" he says, smiling. Soda sure is handsome, I'll tell you that. I think he'd be one of the popular guys back home.

"Dallas Winston, call me Dally. 17," he says, nodding his head towards me. Dally isn't too bad looking either, but he seems like a badass.

"I'm Ponyboy Curtis, or Pony for short. I just turned 14 on July 22nd," he says, smiling. Him and Soda must be brothers.

"I'm Darrel Curtis, if you'd like, you can call me Darry. I'm 25 years old. I'll be in the kitchen making dinner if anyone needs me," he says, walking off. So he must be Soda and Pony's older brother. I wonder where their parents are.

"I'm Steve Randle, probably the coolest, best looking person you'll ever meet," he says, winking. Soda slaps him upside the head. "Oh, and I'm 17. That's older than Soda, if you were wondering." Soda hits him again.

"I'm Two-Bit. Call me babe!" the boy with the Mickey Mouse shirt says, cracking up, "Oh, and I'm 17!" I smile.

"Okay, babe," I say, "Your pickup lines are terrible." Two-Bit looks down turning beet red, as the boys start laughing.

"I'm Johnny Cade, the boys call me Johnnycake sometimes, and I'm 16 years old," he says. Johnny has dark hair, dark eyes, even dark skin. Despite his dark appearance, I can tell his personality is sweet and innocent. I smile at them all, while they all look at me expectantly.

"Oh! I'm Spencer Faye, you can call me Spence. I'm 16 years old." I say, "I just turned 16 on July 10th."

"Come on!" Two-Bit hollers, "tell us more than that!"

"Well, okay," I say, "I live in NYC and don't know how I got here. The last thing I remember is going to bed last night, in my own bed. I woke up this morning in a parking lot. I love all types of food, and I'm a dreamer," I finish.

"Geez, we don't need to know your life's story!" Two-Bit says. I roll my eyes.

"You really can't remember anything?" Johnny asks, concerned.

"Well, like I said, I remember certain things, but the majority of my life is kind of blurry. Like, I can't remember what I had for dinner last night, or why I look like this," I say, shrugging.

"Look like what?" Ponyboy asks.

"Like this! I mean, I look gross," I say.

"You said it not me!" Two-Bit laughs. I frown.

"Do you have a bathroom?" I ask.

"Yes, it's right over there," Pony says, pointing.

"Can you walk by yourself?" Soda asks.

"I think so," I say, getting up.

"Woah.. maybe not," I say, wobbling. Soda helps me to the bathroom, and waits outside. I go to the bathroom and wash my hands, then I decide to wash my face. I find a clean rag in a cupboard near the sink, and use that. I look in the mirror, and I don't look as bad as I feel anymore. It turns out that some of the bruises were makeup, and the black eye was as well. I vaguely remember a night with blind makeovers. I decide to actually take a shower, even though I just met these people a few minutes ago. I can't help it, I feel gross.

Coming out of the shower, I feel a lot better. My hair is silky, and I feel like some color has returned to my skin. Now my face only has a few cuts and bruises, I don't look half bad. After putting my clothes back on, I head out of the bathroom and into the livingroom, where all the guys are still sitting. I notice them all staring at me.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing, it's just," Pony starts.

"It's just you look a lot better," Soda finishes.

"Yeah," Dally says.

"Well, I showered," I say, a little uncomfortable.

"Well, you look a lot better. More lively," Johnny says, nodding.

"Thanks," I say, "I feel a lot better."

"Dinner's ready!" Darry yells from their small kitchen. We all rush over to the kitchen to find chicken sandwiches. We all go silent as we eat our food.