Disclaimer: I Do not own the Outsiders.
A/N: Written from the point of view of a good friend (girl) of the gang.
Being the only girl in a group of guys was tuff enough. It had its rough spots though. The night we lost Johnny was rough. It was like we all lost a kid brother that night.
We were all at Darry, Soda, and Pony's house when Dally called. The cops were after him and he asked us to meet him in the lot. We had to hide him. I practically flew out the door heading toward the lot. I could hear the slap of feet hitting the ground behind me and I knew the rest of the boys were behind me. I could see the scene before we reached it.
My feet pounded through the mud and I could see red and blue lights whirling through the branches that dripped with rain. Two more strides and we entered the clearing. The boys were yelling for the cops to "hold up, he's just a kid." The police chief saw me and his gun lowered a little, arm relaxing like he didn't plan to pull the trigger. The three other cops followed suit, though they were still ready to shoot at any moment. I don't mean to brag, but I had a good rep with the fuzz. I was the level headed one always there to bail the not so level headed guys out of trouble.
"Dallas Winston, drop the gun," I said confidently, though I was feeling anything but that.
Damn it, Dally, drop the gun, my mind screamed. Please, just let it go.
I could get him out of this mess, if only he would trust me and do as I said. My eyes slid to the fuzz, standing with their guns ready, fingers still settled on the triggers. Two-Bit's hot breath grazed the back of my neck as he panted and I shuddered. The clatter of metal on pavement rang out and I felt my eyes close in relief. I reopened them to see Dally's heater lying on the road and Dally turning away from us.
I felt Darry's gaze on me and I nodded my head toward Dallas. He took the hint and headed over to where Dally stood leaning against a dogwood tree. Pink and white flowers stood out against the bright green leaves of the tree. The serenity of the tree was a stark contrast to the commotion of the scene. I walked over to the police chief and dropped his gun down to his side.
"It wasn't loaded."
"Go check," the chief said to one of his men, nodding toward the gun. He turned back to me. "He robbed the store, threatened the clerk, ran from the police. I've got a list of things I can lock him up for even if it's not loaded. And the fact that Dallas Winston's got a record longer than Webster's dictionary isn't helping him."
I stepped closer so that only the chief could hear and searched his chocolate brown eyes for any sign of sympathy he might have for us greasers.
"Look, you know that Johnny Cade kid who's been all over the papers? He was a good bud of ours and he died tonight. Dally was there, he couldn't handle it, and he ran off. But now we've got our eyes on him, so it won't happen again."
The chief looked from Dally to his officers and sighed. He had to choose between doing what was right for his job and helping out some greaser. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had put Dally in handcuffs right then, but he didn't.
"Listen," he said, "I'll let this slid as long as the clerk gets his money returned tomorrow and I don't see a hair off Dallas Winston's head as…"
"You won't," I cut him off. "Thanks."
The chief nodded and beckoned to his officers. They climbed into their flashy white cars and the whirling lights cut off as the rumble of the engines started up. One by one the cars paraded down the road until they became specks against the darkness.
Dally was sitting under the dogwood, leaning against the trunk, face buried in his hands. The rest of the boys were milling about looking quite uncomfortable. They had never seen Dally crack. Greasers were not supposed to break down like this, especially not a hood as tough as Dallas Winston. I crossed the lot slowly, my mind wandering and tears welling in my eyes as I though about Johnny. Poor kid.
"Hey Dal," I said quietly as I sat down on the cold ground next to him. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, trying to ward off the cold.
Johnny was the only thing Dally ever cared about and now he was gone. I didn't know what it was like to have the only thing I loved ripped away so suddenly. I don't think any of us did. Darry, Sodapop, and Ponyboy still had each other even though they had lost their parents. Johnny had had the gang when his parents had started beating on him. God must have been watching out for them, but why wasn't he watching out for Dally? That made me start thinking about whether there really was a God. I liked to think that there was.
I ran my fingers through Dally's bleach blond hair. He seemed more like a scared little kid than a tough full-blown hood who had been arrested at ten years old. The streetlight overhead flickered momentarily and then went out. I guess its time was up. Reminded me of Johnny.