Okay. I want to get this off my chest. I had this story planned ever since I decided to do something special for my tenth story. I don't like to copy anyone. Aiight!

I haven't said this lately, but I don't own The Outsiders.

The Lower Life

Chapter 1: Introduction

"Look at this," said Tyler slamming down the newspaper while we were at lunch at school. He was talking about the article that praised those greasers that killed Bob.

Hey, my name's Dean. Dean Johnson. And as you probably know by now, I'm a soc. I live in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

I looked at the pictures of the greasers. All three of the dirty, long haired punks. I know for a fact that I look better than them.

I have hair that hangs off the side of my head. It is straight black. Kind of like that greaser's, but like I said before, it looks better. I keep it cut shorter than them too. I have an okay build. I live with my mom. My dad died when I was younger. It almost killed my mom. But her job kept her up, thankfully.

"Aren't two of those greasers dead?" I asked.

"Yeah," said Tyler. "The black-haired one and that mean looking one right there."
"So that leaves this one. His name is…Ponyboy Curtis. What the heck?"

"Who in their right mind would name their son that?"

"I don't know. I guess even older greasers are on crack."

Tyler laughed and we threw jokes back and forth.

"I got it," Tyler pronounced.

"What?"

"Let's go find Rick. We can jump this Ponyboy kid."

I jumped up. I love jumping people.

"You know I'm in," I practically yelled.

"Then let's go."

Tyler and I were best buds. We were what we liked to call 'devoted socs'. We lived and would die for socs. It's something we came up with years ago. Tyler had short-cut, blonde hair. He was also on the track team. So was that Ponyboy kid.

We found Rick. He was sitting there aiming to throw his coke bottle at something. We just about scared him when we walked up.

"You guys are sneaky aren't you?" he said smiling.

"Yeah, yeah. Look. We're figuring on jumping one of those greasers that killed Bob. Wanna join?"

Rick tossed his bottle to the side.

"Why not?" he said with his signature cocky smile. "I think I saw him take off with two other greasers at the beginning of lunch. One of them works at the gas station. He might be hanging over there. I heard he's a little chicken without his two brothers."

"Then let's take my car," said Tyler.

We all walked over to Tyler's mustang and got in. Bob was a good friend of ours. I couldn't believe it when I heard what had happened to him. Rick was with them the night he was stabbed. No, he didn't see him get stabbed. He saw the two when they tried to steal Bob and Randy's girls. Then I thought about Randy.

"Hey," I said leaning over the seats. "Remember that traitor Randy?"

"Yeah," said Rick. "That punk was too scared to join in that rumble. I can't believe we lost that thing."

"You're the one to talk," cut in Tyler. "You were one of the first to run."

"You two ran too!" yelled back Rick.

"Because we would have been by ourselves," I replied. "I don't think two of us would be able to take on all those dirty fools."

We finally reached the DX gas station. And there was that greaser. Sitting on the fender of some car. Smoking and drinking a Pepsi. He was all alone.

"This is perfect," I whispered.

We all got out of the car and walked right up the greaser. It was weird though. Rick said this guy was a chicken. How come he didn't look scared? Rick and I were on the sides while Tyler was in the front. He spoke first.

"You're the guy that killed Boy Sheldon. And he was a friend of ours, especially greasers."

Man, I thought we were going to get him good. But he surprised me. Actually he surprised all of us. He busted the end of his bottle and threw his cigarette away.

"You get back into your car or you'll get split."

I was couldn't believe what he just did. I could sense Rick backing up. The kid yelled again.

"I mean it. I've had it up to here with you."

He started towards us and we all backed up. Rick started to run to the car, Tyler nudged me and I looked to towards the gas station. There were two greasers standing right there. Most greasers have knives on them and this kid had a busted bottle.

I didn't feel like getting cut and neither did Tyler so we got into the car also and drove off.

"Man," said Tyler slamming his fists on the steering wheel. "I can't believe it. We looked like punks back there."

"Damn right," I said quietly.

Rick was about to open his mouth, but I cut him off.

"Don't say a word, cause once again you were the first to run."