I looked in the mirror just before I left. My hair was in it's natural state which was slightly wavy and brown. It was extremely thick and long, which made it even harder to take care of. I wore a Rolling Stones T-shirt that had long black sleeves while the torso was white. My pants were tight, but easy enough to move around in if needed. They were torn a little bit by the knee, but that made them that more comfortable.
I sighed, still staring at my reflection.
I was nowhere near perfect. The only thing that I really liked about myself were my eyes. They were a deep blue that never changed color unlike other eyes. They were always the solid, chilling blue they had been. But other then that, my body wasn't all that great. I had large thighs that got in the way. I had wide hips, that got smaller going up or down my body, giving me a sort of hourglass figure that one is not very fond of. I had a large chest, but I still hated it. It probably got in the way more then my thunder thighs. But I was happy being me honestly.
I mean, sure I'd be happy if I were skinnier or my thighs weren't as big. But I'd be a lot happier eating cake on the couch with a bottle of root beer.
Finally, I set out into the thick Tulsa air with my worn out Chucks. I stopped suddenly at the end of my driveway, patting my side for my switchblade. A rush of relief came over me as I felt the curved blade handle under the thin layer of denim. I continued down the path and closed the front gate to my small home.
My name is Alicia. I had just moved to Tulsa, Oklahoma with my loving mother. I was what most people would call an introvert judging by first glance. But honestly, I just didn't like wasting my energy on people who don't deserve it. Once I become close to someone worth my time though, I will be as open and kind as the next person.
I had a sort of 'mischievous' mind. I loved the adrenaline rush of getting in trouble. Being nearly caught. I also loved to push the limit on rules. I would bend certain rules to where they would almost break, and then back off. And honestly, it drove people mad.
I continued down the warm pavement glancing at the children running up and down the street laughing and screaming. I wish I was them. Back when we were young, it didn't matter where you lived, how you dressed, what you liked, you were all friends. Now everyone is sorted it to types. You were either a social (soc) or you were a greaser. Socs were people who dressed in fancy madras and drove tuff cars. They were the rich kids who partied all the time. Greasers were people who acted really tough. Most greaser boys slicked their hair back and wore tight T-shirts or leather jackets. And the Greaser girls had curly hair and tight clothes. But the only things that came out of a Greaser girl's mouth were either cuss words or less vulgar insults.
Socs and Greasers didn't get along too well. They all hated each other, except for a few conditions, Socs and Greasers would forever be enemies. There were always big fights or 'rumbles' between Greasers and Socs which was different from any old fight. It involved a whole bunch of people. Probably five or six grease gangs and at least seven mustangs full of Socs.

I don't usually classify myself as a greaser girl because of how filthy the name has turned to, but I took the more greaser trait. I was always looking for danger. Either to get away from it, or to be a part of it. I also wasn't a part of any 'gang' yet, but it needed to happen soon to insure protection.

I made it all the way across town to the little gas station. I bought a Coke and walked back out. I was 15, so not quite old enough to drive, which is why I didn't have a car to take me places like most of the kids here.

Leaning against the gas pumps were two boys who looked about 17. One had the face of a movie star, which sounded very out of character for me, but he did. He had light brown hair and eyes to match it. The other had darker brown hair that was slicked back. He had some pretty big front teeth, but I'm not one to judge.

I walked past them catching a few words,

"...it at the drive in?" the one with slicked back hair asked the other,

"Yeah, from what I heard I hear it'll be a good..." Which was all I caught in the brief moments that it took to walk past them.

Guess that I was going to the Drive In for some action tonight.

When I got to the drive in, there was already something going on. People were yelling and throwing things. I knew I showed up at the right time. I walked up to the group of people that were circled around what seemed to be a big bonfire. In the middle a couple of kids were fighting. Nothing serious though, just fists. Which to me seemed boring so I walked to where the movie was showing.
I sat down in an empty group of chairs grateful that no one was there to bother me since everyone else was sidetracked by the fight. Three boys walked over to where I was sitting. One looked to be older than the other two. He had blonde hair that fell astray on his forehead while he wore a brown leather jacket. The smaller of the three had long black hair that had been attempted to be put back with grease, but somewhat failed. He had a sort of caramel colored skin and had dark puppy-like eyes. And the last boy had light brown hair just like the movie star kid from the gas station. His eyes were a green color with a mix of grey. He had a nice build to him, but he looked too shy to be intimidating.
"These seats aren't taken are they?" The older one asked after he had already sat down and put his feet up with a cocky smile,
"Just my imaginary friend," I replied sarcastically, "watch it, you might suffocate him." the boy with green eyes chuckled while the older one scoffed and lit a cigarette,
"What's your name, sweetheart?" He asked making me slightly more annoyed with his presents,
"If I told you it'd be a waste of your time" I sighed and looked back to the giant screen displaying a cheap horror movie,
"Aw c'mon now," he coaxed turning in his chair to face me, "that's no way to get real friends." I looked at him with disgust and he got up and walked away in defeat, mumbling some words about cheap broads and trying to take a hint.
The other two boys turned towards me with apologetic looks. The boy with stunning green eyes looked at me and said,
"We're real sorry if he caused you any trouble" he nudged his friend with the dark hair,
"Yeah.." the other boy agreed hesitantly. I just shook my head,
"Well this here is my friend Johnny," The boy with green eyes motioned towards his friend, "And I'm Ponyboy Curtis. The other guy... His name is Dally." I just sat there still not saying anything, "Well," Ponyboy said looking at Johnny, "I guess we should go, bothered you enough I reckon." They stood up to leave,
"Alicia," I said before they had a chance to leave, "My name's Alicia Rod." They turned back to me, Ponyboy smiling, "and you can sit if you like, ya'll aren't as bad as that Dally kid" and the reluctantly sat back down.
We sate for the rest of the movie not saying anything. When the movie finally ended, I gathered my stuff to leave. The 'fight' was still going on judging by the noise, and I decided I'd stop and see how it was ending,
"It was real nice meetin' ya Alicia." Ponyboy said kindly, his eyes soft but burning into mine, "Hope to see you again soon."
I thanked the boys and made my way back to the exit. I walked home alone with my switchblade close to me. I'm not going to lie, I was scared. With every car that came toward me I desperately grabbed at my side in reassurance.
Finally I convinced myself that no one was going to jump me. I was almost home and there was nothing to worry about. Once that thought went through my mind, a car came down the street, probably just someone getting home late from work, I thought to myself. But I noticed this car was really nice. It was a deep, sparkly blue. I couldn't make out the brand but it looked like it had a mustang horse on the hood of the car. The car started to slow towards me. I looked forward and just kept walking. I heard car doors open and slam shut, and I started to speed my pace up a little,
"Where ya goin' pretty lady?" I heard a slurred voice call from close behind. great, I thought to myself, they're obviously drunk. I heard footsteps get closer to me and I started at a full sprint. I probably couldn't outrun them, but I sure as hell could try. Then, suddenly I found myself on the ground, my breath had been knocked out of me. I was pinned on my back, something heavy weighing down on my abdomen, making it hard and painful to breath.
"Seems we've picked us a fighter boys," said the same slurred voice from before. I reached for my pocket knife but the boy on top of me noticed. He took the knife from my pocket and held it inches from my face, "You better calm down little girl, or else this will be more painful than it should be." he took the knife and cut right up my shirt. that bitch, I mentally screamed, that was my favorite shirt. I squirmed and kicked in protest as he went for my bra straps. It then occurred to me that I could scream with my free mouth. And it also seemed to occur to the boy on top of me as well because he slammed his hand down on my mouth before I could even breath. He began to reach for the back of my bra as I screamed against his arm. Tears began to stream down my face once the bra was undone. Then I heard someone yelling from the direction that I came from. The boy on top of me got off and dropped my blade next to me. He and his friends ran for the car and sped off.
"Better not get caught beating someone up by me!" a voice yelled, "Or else it'll be the last thing you remember before you end up in a hospital!"
I had rolled onto my back, tears still streaming down my face. I heard footsteps rushing toward me, but it was only one pair of footsteps. When the person got there, they rolled me over. I decided to open my eyes and I saw a boy that looked about 16 or 17. He had blonde hair that was slicked back and big blue eyes. He wore a leather jacket and a Mickey Mouse shirt,
"Shoot, they weren't pickin' on you were they?" He asked concerned. I didn't say anything, I just covered myself up the best I could with my shirt torn in half, "My name's Two-Bit Mathews, don't worry, I'll take care of ya."