Dallas "Dally" Winston The Outsiders Warning: Cursing
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I tapped my pencil on my desk repeatedly, hoping to bug the dumbass in charge of the 'class'. I glared at him, tapping faster and louder. After a solid three minutes, he looked at me over the rim of his glasses, "Stop."
"No."
"Pardon me?"
"I'm already in detention. What else are you gonna do? You can't suspend me for tapping a pencil."
The teacher gave me a warning, and the classroom was silent except the humming of a radiator. I felt someone deliver a hard, noisy kick to the back of my desk, and whipped around, seeing Dallas Winston. He had his boots planted on the back legs of my chair and desk, and gave them another hard kick. The teacher frowned at him, "Stop."
Dallas puffed up his chest, pursing his lips, "I'm already in detention. What else you gonna do? You can't suspend me for kicking a desk."
My glare suddenly disappeared and I smiled at him, "Is that what I sound like? Dear god I'm shocked you haven't ripped your ears off yet."
His smile faded and he looked me up and down, a more serious look in his eyes, "You got a sense of humor. I dig that in a girl."
"Hm. Well I recommend putting the shovel down before you get yourself hurt, pretty boy."
He raised his head up at me, "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I looked to his necklace, then met his eyes again, "I thought you didn't go to school, Dallas."
"I don't. And it's Dally."
"Okay Dally. If you don't go here, then why the hell are you in detention?"
"Just cause I knew you'd be here."
"So you're a stalker?" I rolled my eyes, turning back around, "Great."
He smiled, standing up a little and leaning forward over his desk. I felt his breath below my ear as he spoke, "Shit, well, I ain't a stalker, but when I saw you... Well, I couldn't just look away. I mean, come on. Have you seen yourself?"
I turned around again as he plopped back into his seat. Smiling, I pushed my lips to my middle finger, blowing a 'Fuck You' his way. He bit his lip, then sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, "Damn, I'd love to see what those lips can do."
I heard the teacher's sharp voice, "Winston!"
He looked to the man, smiling cockily, "Please, sir, call me Dallas."
The teacher stood up, ruler in hand, "Dallas Winston, you leave that girl alone. She's trying to do the work she tried to skip out of in class."
I frowned, "No I'm not."
The teacher glared at the two of us, standing beside our desks, "Well, if you two don't hush it up, I'll have you separated."
Dallas held up his hands lazily in defense, "Woah, woah, woah, sir, calm down. No need to take such hasty precautions... Mr...?"
"Mr. Norman. Now get back to work."
The teacher gave us another warning before going back to his desk and fanning through more papers. Dally shockingly kept his mouth shut. A small slip of paper fell gracefully over my shoulder and landed on my desk. I unfolded it once and it read:
4 P.M Saturday night. Meet me at the Car Show where they're showing the new '55 Chevy. -D.
His handwriting was scratchy, but neat at the same time. I wrote under it:
Sure, fag, but if you're thinking about getting in my pants, forget it. -Fuck You I folded it once and tossed it over my shoulder, and in a few second I got a reply:
Hey, think about it this way: if you don't wear pants, I can't get into them!
The teacher finally dismissed us, and I got up, leaving my papers on the desk. Dally smiled, "So? We got a date?"
"No. We have a 'friendly meeting'. It ain't a date unless I say so."
We walked out the door and he smiled, "Yeah, yeah, whatever, doll." He pushed his lips to mine, earning him a smack on the back of the head. He hopped off, joining up with some other guys, letting out a whoop then a long, sharp whistle.
