The Outsiders: A Girl in the Gang

Chapter 12

        The officer roughly shoved me into one of the two cracked plastic chairs lining the wall.  He glared at me, and then lumbered over to his big wooden desk on the other side of the room.  The desk was piled high with neat stacks of paper, a typewriter, and phone, which he picked up and began dialing.

        I saw an almost evil smirk cross his face, and I stared down at the cracked tiles and the dirty toes of my Converses.  I had a black eye, the same one that had healed completely only a week ago, and a few other bruises, but other than that I was fine.

        I heard him ask the operator to patch him into our phone number, and he was scowling at me the whole while.  I just scowled back, fighting back the urge to stick my tongue out at him, but that would only get me in more trouble, no matter how funny it would be.  It was taking a while, and I hoped that was because Dally wasn't home, though that was unlikely.  It was three in the morning, and I had just seen Dally at our house a little less than an hour ago.  The overweight officer's rough voice penetrated my thoughts as he spoke into the phone.

        "Dallas Winston?  How about you come pick up your delinquent sister from the station?" he said almost menacingly before slamming the phone back down.  He glared at me, and then, slowly shaking his head and keeping his voice low though there was no one else in the station, he said, "I knew you were trouble the minute you showed up in town, Winston."

        "You must have me confused with someone else.  My name isn't Dally," I smarted off.

        With a growl, he rose from his chair and strode across the floor till he was standing right in front of me and then jabbed a finger in my face and said, "You better watch it.  That mouth isn't gonna get you outta here any faster," before going back to his desk.

        I just glowered at the floor, not wanting to deal with Mr. I-Think-I'm-So-Tough-And-Mean-Cop.  I hated him and that Soc and my damn brother and basically this whole night.  Well, I suppose that wasn't true, I had fun at the movies with Pony, Johnny, Soda, and Steve.  It just turned pretty crappy afterwards, when I was walking home in the rain.

        I was almost surprised when I heard the door open and glanced up to see Dally, looking mad as hell.  I didn't think he'd actually come get me, he had pretty much kicked me out of the house a little more than an hour ago.  Dally glared at me, but it turned into a furious glower when he looked at the cop.

        "Car, now," Dal demanded, not looking at me but jabbing a finger at the door.

        I got up and sulkily marched out the door, it had finally stopped raining and the air smelled fresh and clean, the exact opposite of what I was feeling inside.  But everything was still wet, like my damp T-shirt that had finally started to dry when I got in the cop car and out of the rain.  I climbed in the passenger side of Buck's T-bird, wishing I still had my jean jacket because I finally registered the chilly night air now that the only person I was mad at was Dally.

        He came sulkily out of the building, shaking his head and mumbling something unintelligible to himself.  The furious glower that had been directed at the officer earlier was now directed at me as Dally got in, not saying anything as he cranked the key and the engine roared to life.  He jerked it into drive and pulled out, and I just stared out the window.  Dally didn't say anything until we were halfway home, but I was waiting for him to speak the whole while.

        "Why'd you get hauled in?" he asked, his tone neutral.

        "Why do you think?" I retorted irritably.

        "You pick a fight?" he asked accusingly, and I was surprised he didn't seem madder than he was.        

        But Dally was a mastermind at hiding emotions, the only thing that gave him away was his eyes, which were blazing icy blue daggers right now.  Mine were the same as I glared back at him, which was enough of an answer as a simple yes.

        "Why?" he asked, and I could tell he was getting mad now as his voice rose in volume.

        "I was hacked off at you.  I still am.  What the hell do you think I am, a saint?" I shot back, my choice of words immediately disproving my statement.

        "You can't go around slugging people every time you get mad!" he blew up.

        Before I could say that that's exactly what he does, he fired angry words at me again.

        "You're not me!  You're a girl!  Girls don't get in fights and carry blades.  They wear dresses and put on make-up and do their hair and- they don't act like you!" he shouted.

        Wow, a little stereotyped there, Dallas?

        "And you're a guy!  None of the rest of the gang goes around starting fights and stealing crap and getting thrown in jail all the time like you!" I shouted, twisting his own words around.  As far as I knew none of the gang ever started fights, they were usually on the receiving end of them.  And Two-BIt swiped stuff from the stores all the time, but it was little useless stuff, not like the time Dal got thrown in the slammer for attempted grand theft auto a few years ago. 

        He seemed at a loss for words, probably realizing I was right, but then he yelled, "I'm not like the other guys, okay?  And you're not like me, so quit trying to pretend that you don't need someone to look out for you and all this other shit, all right?!"

        "I'm not pretending, Dally," I replied, my voice low and even.  "Who do you think looked out for me after you ran off, cause it sure as hell wasn't our damn parents," I said.

        He didn't say anything, just kept glaring out the window at the wet streets, shiny from puddles with the reflections of streetlamps.  I was silent too until he pulled up in front of the house, parking the T-bird on the grass.

        Then I added, "I don't need you or anyone else to look out for me, ever," my voice as cold as my eyes as I recalled Soda, Steve, Pony, and Johnny bringing me to their house that night I got jumped, and then Darry probably bandaging me up and all that.  None of this would have happened if I had just taken care of myself the one time I was too weak, or more so just too dumb and let someone else do it.

        I stormed in the house and didn't say another word to my brother.