It was the middle of the day when we strolled aimlessly down the street. It was almost all of us, except Darry was working his roof job and Steve was working late at the body shop. So it was just my kid brother Ponyboy, Johnny, Two-Bit and Dallas.

"Hey Sodapop, you got a smoke?" Dallas asked me. We were all in a particularly bored mood, there wasn't a whole lot to do around here during the day. At night more people were around. But right now, we just walked down the sidewalk, wishing we had something better to do.

I reached in my jean pocket and tossed a pack to Dallas. Just then, Two-Bit growled under his breath. "Socs."

A Corvette filled with a bunch of kids approached us. You could tell they were Socs from this far away because of the shiny car they were driving in. Pony and Dallas and Johnny scowled as they pulled up beside us.

Typically, we would have reached for our switch blades or anything we could find because Socs were usually just looking to beat up some greasers like us. But as they pulled up I saw that they had girls with them, and it's just kind of the way it goes that you don't fight when your with chicks. I was a good rule I thought.

Driving was Ken Brockman, a big husky Soc who I'd seen around a lot. Dallas had fought him once. He had a mean look.

He made a remark that made all of us feel pretty tempted to pull one on him, but Two-Bit just said something real smart back that made our gang laugh. There was a stockier looking Soc in the passenger seat and in the back was a dark haired girl and a blonde girl. Marc Fisher was back there, too. Marc Fisher was the younger brother of Stan Fisher. If the Socs had a leader, it would be Stan Fisher. He was real big and real tough and really hot-tempered. All the Socs looked up to Stan but if you asked me, or any other greaser, he was a pain in the ass.

So anyway, Marc had his arm slung around the blond chick suggesting they were together. And man, was she a looker. Even though she sat unsmiling and unamused, she was beautful. She had big brown eyes and naturally highlighted hair. You could tell she cheerleaded 'cause she had the on a red and white varsity sweater with a matching pleated white skirt and socks pulled up to her knees. The brown haired girl, almost as cute as the blond, wore the same uniform.

I knew Dallas was thinking the same thing because he gave her a roughish smile. She looked away.

Dallas was lucky that Marc hadn't seen that little indication.

"What are you doing on this part of town anyway?" Dallas asked, irritated.

"Yeah," said Two-Bit, stepping towards the Corvette. "This is our turf so I suggest you get lost before something awful happens to that shiny car of yours."

Ken Brockman scowled and raised a fist. "How'd you like a broken arm, greaser?"

"Alright, alright." I interrupted, stifling a laugh. "I think we've seen enough polo shirts for today. Move along."

They all scowled. We just chuckled at them as they drove off.

"God, what is with those Socs?" Pony wondered. "All they ever do is drive around looking for a fight. It's pretty sad, ain't it?"

"You said it,brother." Two-Bit laughed.

Johnny was the only one not laughing. It still was a while until he would be able to laugh about Socs. But now he was just too plain scared. Couldn't blame him.

"They sure got some fine broads, though." said Dally.

Heather's Perspective

We pulled up next to a small crowd of greasers. Ken and Marc snickered.

"Let's show these greasers some good old fright." said Ken. I was not the least bit interested in showing greasers any "good old fright". But I could tell Martha was, by the way she smiled. Some people really did like this kind of stuff. I guess I just never could understand it.

Marc stretched his arm across my shoulders.

I guess you could say Marc and I were "going steady" although there was no ring involved like some other kids. But I had worn his letterman jacket at a beer blast last Saturday and he didn't ask for it back. Martha said that meant we were going steady. He took me to the drive-in and I danced with him at the dance, too. I liked Marc alright, compared to some of the other guys like him. He was on the football team and I was on the cheerleading squad so it made sense.

Greases made it obvious that they were greasers. All of the guys in the crowd wore cuffed jeans with tight fitted tee shirts tucked in. There hair was customarily longer and combed back. Almost all of them wore leather jackets as well. Ken exchanged remarks with a tall blond guy. I could tell he was a funny guy. There was a dark haired guy who stared right at me and gave me a cheeky smile. I didn't want to cause any scene that might end up in Marc hopping out of the car and slugging him a few times, so I turned away.

Then, they exchanged some more threats until one of the boys, one of the greasers, intervened. "Alright, alright. I think we've seen enough polo shirts for today. Move along." I went to great lengths to suppress my laughter at that. The boy who said it was breathtakingly handsome, though. He had golden colored, almost reddish long, comb-backed hair and wore cuffed Levis and a leather motorcycle jacket. I only got a chance to get a look at him, because right after he spoke up we were already driving away.