Author's Note:I wrote this on my birthday (but just got around to posting it) because I wondered about Dally's birthday. Especially the 'sweet sixteen' birthday. I laughed a whole bunch during lunch time while my friends were on the computer as I wrote this. I just didn't think that Dally would be sweet or like being called sweet. Also, I'm from Michigan and we call soda pop just plain old pop. I don't know what they call it in Oklahoma, so sorry!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders. Not mine!
Happy Birthday Sweet Sixteen
Dallas Winston was not sweet. I know this for a fact! I'm Ponyboy Curtis and was Dally's sixteenth birthday a few years ago.
I had baked him a cake, with mom's supervision of course. This was back when my parents were alive. My mother loved Dallas to no end. He was always given money for his birthday and clothes for Christmas. Dally never said thank you but I know that if it wasn't against his character he would've.
It was a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. Mom had even taken it to the bakery to get the words 'Happy Birthday Dally' iced onto it. Dally was, I suspect, taking his drivers' test. Anyway, we all met at the vacant lot. Two-Bit had a new switchblade for him (I suspect he stole it.) Johnny had bought him a jeans jacket (which we guessed Dally's size, it was too big. I'll always remember that present, 'cause Dally wore that night a few months ago…) Darry had bought him a…actually, I can't remember what it was. Soda and Steve had pitched in together to get him a gift card for gas at the DX station. I, of course, got him the cake.
Dally had arrived still wondering what was going on. We had gotten Johnny to talk Dally into coming to the lot to 'play football.' That was a lie, needless to say. We all surprised him by singing 'Happy Birthday' and then I set the cake down on the car seats and made the biggest mistake I could make.
"Happy birthday…sweet sixteen," I said, whistling in amazement that Dally had reached his sixteenth birthday. Dally reached over and put me in a head lock. I struggled.
"What the fuck did you just say? Do I look 'sweet' to you?" He demanded, jerking my head up so I could see him. I admitted that he didn't and he let me go. The funny thing about it was that even though he said it in a mean way, he was just fooling around.
We all were having a good old time playing football, eating cake and watching Dally's confused look when we gave him his gifts. We ran out of pop so Dally offered to go get some more. He took with him Johnny.
I don't know what Dally said to Johnny that night. I never will know. All I know is that Johnny's respect for Dally increased that night.
The switchblade busted after his jail time, right before we went to see the movies and we met Cherry Valance. He spent the money on gas, food, beer, anything he needed or wanted. But that blue jeans jacket he wore a lot. He even wore it that night he got shot. Now it's six feet under the ground, as Dally died that night.
Today is Dally's birthday; he would've been 18 years old today. The snow fell early in the morning and we all trekked to his grave. Everyone got teary and Two-Bit admitted that he wished we could all just go back to Dally's sixteenth birthday. For once he made us all glum instead of happy. We stopped at Johnny's grave, too. I couldn't help but stare at the sky and think that they were playing football in heaven, eating cake and drinking pop.