And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street
And now you find out you're gonna have to get used to it

Like a Rolling Stone – Bob Dylan

Chapter One

Houston Cassidy

I clutched my jacket closer to me. A cold fall wind was blowing and I was wandering around the streets of Tulsa, Oklahoma. Not the smartest idea because it was Friday, which meant parties and drunk Socs hanging around Greaser turf. But I had to figure out a place to go since Dad had gotten drunk again, which meant he kicked me out. It didn't bother me much, better than gettin' hit. Dark brown or purple-blue bruises ain't that attractive.

I could find a pay phone, and give Two-Bit a shout if he wasn't drunk off his ass he'd for sure pick me up. I could get a room at Buck's place. Hell, I could even walk a little ways further and crash on the Curtis's couch for free. I sighed; I wasn't taken that chance of wasting my twenty-five cents and Two-Bit being pissed. And most likely there was some party going all night at Buck's. The Curtis house it is.

Darry, Sodapop & Ponyboy Curtis never locked there front door. Two-Bit's mother tried warning them they could be robbed but Darryl just shrugged it off saying that if it helped out a fellow greaser than it was worth that higher chance of robbery. Almost anyone could be on that small couch in the morning. From Steve Randle to Tim Shepard. And a couple times a month they woke up to find me sprawled out on that couch. Right now is one of these times.

The front door opened with its usual squeak. Every light was out except for that one on the porch that's on all night long. The boys must already be asleep. Figured that much, it is one a.m. I walked into the house as quietly as I could I'd hate to wake Darry, he probably had to work early in the morning same with Soda. I didn't give a hang if Ponyboy woke, though. Lucky bloke has tomorrow to sleep in. I found my way through the pitch black darkness and made it to the living room where in the mourning I'd probably be woken up by Two-Bit watching Mickey and drinking a beer. That boy sure could hold his alcohol. In the dark I could pick out that there was a figure already in my spot on the couch. From their uneven breathes and moving around I was pretty sure they weren't asleep yet, so I flicked on the lamp.

"What the hell? Turn that off! I'm trying to sleep here, little broad!" I chuckled in response I knew that voice. That was the voice of the one and only Dallas Winston. I flicked the lamp back off and walked over to where Dallas was lying.

"Hey Dal, move over would you? I need to sleep here tonight. Dad kicked me out."

Dally groaned but rolled over anyway. He knew what it was like for your father not to give a hang about you. Our fathers were the definitions of low lives.

I was drifting off to sleep when Dallas started to talk again. I almost missed it being half asleep.

"Did he hit you again, Houston?"

I shook my head into his chest. "No. Thank god,"

That was the end of our conversation that night. Dally falls asleep fast within a minute of me responding to his questions his quiet snores filled the room. I almost laughed. Almost. Dallas looked so peaceful sleeping like a little innocent boy. When he was conscious he looked so tough, and cold. But here in his sleep he reminded me of someone like Johnny Cade. A lost puppy; the total opposite of Dallas Winston.

I don't recall falling asleep last night, but I must have because Sodapop was hovering over me shaking my lightly. That cheeky grin permanently pasted on his face. I couldn't even stop a smile of my own from forming. That was what Sodapop was best at, making people laugh and smile. No matter how blastin' early it was in the morning.

"Get up, Texas. You gotta drive me to work if you wanna pick Curly up from the cooler."

Curly Shepard. He was the younger brother of Tim and just as ruthless. He reminded of Dal in his personality. He was funny, but he had an attitude. He was cold, but not bitter. He and I had this thing. I'm not sure you can call it a relationship. We were one of those couples. That were off and on so much you'd get whiplash trying to keep up with us. It's probably because we're so hot-headed and short tempered. We fought with words; he's never once hit me. Surprisingly, he's good to me. When we're on he's never once cheated. Curly's complex and that's why I'm so attracted to him.

I quickly freshened up and grabbed the keys from Sodapop. Rushing out the door, Sodapop had to work at nine o'clock and Curly was released a half hour later. There wasn't much time for me to waste since it was ten to nine now. I hadn't even eaten breakfast yet (which usually consisted of chocolate cake and chocolate milk).

"Where you two headin'?" Dally had finally woken up. As he stretched and yawned I noticed that his class ring he had rolled someone for was back on his finger. Sylvia and he must be over. Christ, those two were almost as bad as Curly and I.

"I'm dropping Soda off at the DX then pickin' up Curly from the cooler. If you're ready now you can come with."

Dallas nodded and threw on his leather jacket and slid on his boots. Jumping in with Soda and me just in time. Sodapop was already in shot gun so Dally crawled in the back. I dropped off Sodapop and Dallas hopped in front.

"That's useless y'know. Once I pick up Curly you gotta get in the back again, buddy."

Dallas shrugged and lit up a Kool. "You and Curl goin' steady?"

I nodded humming 'Jailhouse Rock' that was playing on the stereo. "For now." I said. "What about you and that Sylvia girl?"

Dal scoffed, "No. She was two-timing me again. Dumb broad."

We arrived at the local jail. Majority of the kids locked up in there were Greasers. It was rare to see a soc sent in there. Very rare. Like one in a million. I kicked my feet up on the dash and waited patiently for Curly. He wouldn't be impressed that he got stuck in the back and he wouldn't be impressed that I was hanging out with Dally. He and Dallas weren't on the best of terms when Curly got himself locked up. No one knew the details except those two, I was curious to know but not stupid enough to try and pry it out of either of those two. They were equally as stubborn and frustrating. All I know was there was a hard-core fight between these two. One that got so out of hand that Tim Shepard and Buck Merrill had to break up. Now fights over at the East Side happen frequently but it's as rare as a soc being thrown in the cooler that they're broken up. And by the one and only Tim Shepard who lived and breathed fights? It was shocking news to everyone. Curly and Dally were buddies so everyone expected them just to bounce back, but they never did.