I don't own the outsiders, S.E. Hinton does!
I'm lost, I've lived in Tulsa my entire life and I'm lost. Maybe it's because I've never been to the south side before. Randy invited me over; otherwise I wouldn't have come all this way. Growing up Randy was a greaser but, his dad got a job promotion sending him straight into Soc-vill. I haven't seen or heard of him since, until yesterday when he called me and ask to meet him at his home. I pulled into the driveway of what looks like a mansion, where he met me at the door. "Long time no see Tim," "I could say the same about you Randy" I said as I walked thru the front door. "Sorry for being so blunt, but what happened to your face?!" "A tramp tried to mug me, he caught me with a busted pop bottle" "Oh, are you okay?" "Yeah I'm fine, it happened a while back." "How long ago?" "A few years…" "Tim, I'm sorry but I've got a whole different kind of life now, I can't be around you in public anymore, unless it looks like we're fighting." "I know you're from the other side of the tracks now. You've cut your hair, changed your clothes and moved up in this town." "I wish we could still hang out like we used to" "Me too, your still the same guy. I've had a lot of my friends move up, and then look down on me like I'm trash. I guess you're once a greaser, always a greaser" I said with a smirk. "I guess I am" he said. "Come on let me show you around" So we through the house, it was huge! "Which bedroom do you want to see?" "How many do you have?!" "I have mine, and then I have the one that my other friends think I have." "What's the difference?" "You'll see" then he walked into a big room. The walls were painted a crisp blue. The bed against the wall had a black bedspread. The posters on the wall were of hot rods, and the Beatles. "The Beatles?" I said as I cocked an eyebrow (A trick that I taught Two Bit when we were younger.) "Yeah, now this is the room that my other friends think I have." "You're Soc friends" "Yeah" he said as he closed the door, we went down another hallway. "This is my real room." He said as he opened to a plain white walled room. The bed didn't have a frame and the bedspread was red with black strips. It was messy, but there was a record player and a small bookcase that was packed all the way to the top shelves. The closet door was open and it was filled with ripped jeans and old t-shirts. On the dresser was an opened Bible, a small lamp and an old picture of us on the North Side. Elvis posters hung on the walls and there was a big window that faced the street. I went and picked up the photo. It was taken by my mom, right before she died. We were standing in front of Randy's old house, covered in mud. I had just turned seven and both of my front teeth were missing. The mud fight had started because I called him short. Standing up we were the same height then. Which made me mad, I was a week older! I laughed "I can't believe you still have this!" "Of course, that's me and my best friend growing up!" he looked at me and smiled. We used to be just as close as Randle and middle Curtis. "Hey Tim" "yeah?" "My mom's here" "Do you need me to leave?" "Not at all, you want to stay for dinner?" This is going to be awkward…