"Aw, Johnni lighten up", my dad begged.
I ignored him. I was the older of my parents' two children. I was short for my twelve and a half years. I had long brown hair that touched down in the middle of my back. I had brown eyes. My skin was darker than the rest of my family's.
My father, Ponyboy, was driving. He had reddish brown hair and greenish gray eyes. My mother, Sherry, had red hair and green eyes. Then there was my brother Dallas who looked just like a miniature version of my father. He was three years younger than me and was a spoiled brat.
My father was moving us back to where he grew up. On the east side of Tulsa. I had no clue why. As far I knew nothing had happen there that would make him want to move back there. Two of his friends had died there, Johnny Cade (who I was named after) and Dallas Winston (who my brother was named after). My mother looked back and me and bit her lip. I had been refusing to speak to my father for the past week. Ever since I caught him drinking again. He had sworn to Mom that he had given it up but I caught him last week when I came home earlier than usual.
"Please address me not my client", my brother piped up. I had paid him to talk to Dad for me, since I refused to.
"Okay, ask your 'client' why she won't speak to me", my dad said
"She has her reasons", Dallas recited like I had taught him.
I must've fallen asleep, because next thing I knew I felt myself being lifted out of the car and carried.
We had arrived at our new home.