"No offense, Dallas, but I'm not into moody assholes," I fired at him with a smug smirk.
"Yeah, you're not my type either, Diana," he shot back. "Crazy, uptight chics are kind of a turnoff." I narrowed my eyes at him and growled angrily.
...
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After one bath, threes showers, and thirty minutes of scrubbing my face with soap, I'd come to two conclusions:
1. The red liquid Randy had poured on me last night, was indeed, fake blood.
And, 2. My skin was now stained a pastel pink, and probably wouldn't come out for a few days.
My brain mentally prepared itself for all of the names passing socs would call out at me as I walked through the town in quick steps to get to the Curtis house. Today, I was baking a batch of chocolate chip brownies with Darry, and I was beyond excited to spend some time with him. The oldest Curtis had been spending most of his free time picking up extra shifts at the roofing company he works for. Of course, I didn't blame him for wanting to work more and receive a steady paycheck. Honestly, I admired Darry's work ethic and sometimes envied how how easy and simple his life appeared. As everyone knows though, looks can be deceiving, and the words 'easy' and 'simple' were definitely the last ones I'd used to describe the small family's actual life.
During the time I've spent at the Curtis house I've noticed that the boys' parents were never around. At first, I assumed that they had just abandoned them, much Dally's parents and my dad. I wish that my theory was correct, but sadly it's far from the truth. Darry had opened up to me about how his parents had died in a tragic car crash on the nearby train tracks. He was able to graduate high school, but couldn't apply to colleges because he needed to maintain a steady job and support his brothers. Sodapop soon dropped out to try and ease the financial burden off of Darry, though it wasn't much help but still made a difference. Now, Ponyboy remains as the only Curtis brother left in school, and he's acquired the pressure of maintaining his grades along with graduating and applying for college.
I felt bad for the small family of three, and wanted to help them as much as I could. I spent most of my mornings and evenings with Darry in the kitchen, in addition to driving Ponyboy to school with Dallas in his new — stolen — car. Unlike the rest of the gang, it didn't come as much to me when Dallas decided to help out more. I was beginning to see a different side to the tough, New York teen, and I had to admit that my feelings for him were starting to develop more because of it.
"What's your deal?"
Darry's voice seemed to snap me out of whatever trance I was in as my thoughts dispersed back into the depths of my complicated mind.
"What?" I said, dumbfounded by my own lack of listening. Apparently, Darry must've been trying to get my attention for the past five minutes.
"What's your deal?" Darry repeated. He poured the pre-made brownie batter into a large plastic bowl, the tiny remnants flew into the air and dropped onto the counter messily.
"My deal?" I said again, clearly not understanding what he was asking. Man, I should really pay more attention when people are trying to talk to me.
