My name is Pixi-Stix. Okay, no judgement. Personally, I think it's kinda sexy in its own way when I go by Pixi. I hang out with a guy named Two-Bit, so Pixi sounds pretty good in comparison. Just don't tell anyone I said that. With long Auburn hair and piercing emerald eyes, I've always considered my looks slightly above average. But this story isn't about my looks. It's about incredible feats of friendship and loyalty.
When I first talked with my best friend, Two-Bit, he tried to hit on me. He was drunk. He's always drunk, so we get along pretty well. Two-Bit Matthews is the kind of guy who just won't ever shut up, especially because he can't stop cracking jokes. He also has a knack for thievery, which is how we first met. I shoved him into a bucket of ice water at a party when he tried to steal my cigarette lighter, and we've been friends ever since. The one thing he despises most is to be called by his real name, Keith, so that's obviously what I call him when he pisses me off. Which is most of the time.
"So, I'm headed over to the Curtis' house tonight. The gang'll be there, and you gotta meet 'em sometime. Wanna come?" he asks me, and tosses a can of coke in my direction from across the room. I open it as carefully as I can, but to my dismay, it explodes all over me.
"Damn it! Seriously, Two-Bit? It took me, like, three years to save up for these jeans! You're ruining my rep, here." I say, and race to the napkins. He grins.
"Hey, you opened it, Sugar Crash. And your jeans wouldn't be a problem if you just wore dresses like normal broads," I glare at him, "So, do you want to come, or not?"
"Okay, maybe. It's not like I have anything else to do, especially around here." he agrees, and I walk out the glass doors of the diner where Two-Bit's mother works. She's been a single mother ever since Two-Bit's father walked out on them, and she's always working double shifts to provide for herself and Two-Bit. He never talks about his father, but I can tell it hurt him deeply to not have a dad around. It's unfortunate, but almost everything about the greaser life is. I should probably explain that term. The "Greasers" are the poor families on the East side of town. We're known for our hair slicked back with grease and leather jackets. Our rivals, the "Socs" (short for (socials), are the West side rich kids who think it's fun to make the Greasers' lives hell. Two-Bit follows me out the door and we wait at the bus station.
"I'm heading over now, so if you don't want to come early, I'll give ya the address." Two-Bit says, as he climbs the steps to the newly arrived bus and sits down on the torn leather seat. I toss a couple of coins in the bus fare jar and sit down next to him.
"Honestly, I don't have the nerve to show up alone. A before party sounds fine to me." for some reason, I've always been nervous about meeting the gang. I guess the idea of me and seven other guys felt kind of awkward. But I promised Two-Bit I would meet the people who gave him confidence and encouraged him to be himself, and I'm not about to take back my word. Hey, who knows? Maybe there's a hot one.
When the bus stops at a dilapidated house on the edge of town, I have a feeling we've reached our destination. I see an old car parked in the driveway, and a tall, raven-haired guy shut and lock its door. He was incredibly muscular, and had a strong stance, like a natural born leader.
"That's Darry. Ponyboy's the youngest, then Sodapop, then Darry, who we all call Superman from time to time." Two-Bit explains as we both walk closer to the Curtis' residence.
"No kidding." I whisper as we reach the gorgeous, newly-discovered creature resembling a certain caped crusader.
"Two-Bit! You came early. Is this a friend, or...?" he starts.
"I'm Pixi. Let's get this out of the way, alright," I point to Two-Bit, "I'm not some date of his, I'm just a friend. I have a taste for the finer things in life, trust me." I look back at Darry. Mistake. As I notice his sky blue eyes, I decide that Darry has got to be the hot one in the gang. Then I realize he's staring at me, his eyes wide, with slightly raised eyebrows. Got to make sure he doesn't think I'm mental. "Okay, this is perfect. Sorry, I'm kinda bad at talking to people, especially those of the male variety, so please don't think I'm insane." I plead. He looks blank for a second, and then smiles. Well, that's a start.
"Don't worry. He's used to insanity by now. It happens to run in the family." a golden-haired greaser with blue-green eyes says as he appears behind me, alongside him a guy with really greasy, curly, combed hair. "I'm Sodapop, and this is Steve," he motions to the guy next to him, "and your name?" he asks me.
"Right. I'm Pixi-Stix. Pixi for short. Obviously, it's a nickname. Most of you have them, right?" the room gets deathly quiet, and Sodapop's face turns red.
"Well, actually, Two-Bit's the only one with a nickname. Sodapop is my real name, and Ponyboy isn't fake either." Soda finally says, and I feel a wave of color creep up my neck.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry...I just assumed...wow, I'm stupid." for the next fifteen seconds all I know is silence and tense faces, until something breaks the wall of muteness. Two-Bit starts to laugh hysterically, and I'm left pale-faced surrounded by laughing greasers. Well, then.
A couple of minutes later, Ponyboy and Johnny arrive. I learn that Ponyboy has brown, almost red, hair with green (he insists gray) eyes, and a had a way of talking that made you understand exactly what he was talking about. I also meet Johnny, and learn he has black hair with brown eyes so dark that they almost look black, too. He mainly stares at the floor the entire time I talk to him so I decide not to ask any questions.
And then something crazy happens. We run out of beer. Don't worry, that's not what I'm talking about, although unfortunately it does happen. The front door opens and the most amazing guy I've ever seen walks in. He has dark brown hair and ice blue eyes, with a leather jacket and a smirk on his face. He also has a wild streak in his eyes, which makes him much more attractive than Superman altogether, even if he isn't as handsome.
"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in! Glad to see you could make it, Dally." Steve says, and I step back, trying to watch the newcomer before he spots me first. As I notice how confident he speaks and how he seems to be in charge despite his age, I start to grow nervous about meeting the last member of the gang. He soon spots me. Don't. Say. Anything. Stupid. I have to mentally command myself.
"Hey, what's the chick doing here, Darry?" he asks loudly, his eyes going up and down over me, and I wildly fight my body's urge to blush. Here goes nothing.
"This 'chick' has a name. It's Pixi. I'm a friend of Two-Bit." I say as coolly as possible. If I surprised him with my response, he makes no signs of it.
"My apologies, kid. So, are you named after the candy, or are you secretly a fairy and not telling anyone?" he leans closer and whispers, "If so, feel free to work some magic on me, doll, I could use a chance at...relaxation, for a lack of better terms."
"You can go 'relax' with someone else, creep, I'm not interested." I say, struggling to keep my voice steady.
"Then why do I see longing in your eyes?" he replies, a hint of a smile on his face. I can't help it anymore. I blush, and I'm shocked at how easily he saw right through me. His smile widens, and I know the worst is yet to come. Why does Two-Bit always have to be too drunk to come to my defense?
"Dallas-" Darry starts.
"Save it, Superman." he responds. "It's always easier to surrender before the fight ever starts, darling. Just stop resisting." I feel his hand lightly touch my shoulder, and his lips press the side of my neck. Startled, I reach to the table behind me and grab the nearest object. A fork? Well, it'll have to do.
"Yes, but sometimes the weak prevail if the enemy is distracted." I say, and drive the fork as hard as I can into his shoulder. He yells, swears, tries to chase me, and then falls to the floor in pain. There's a shocked silence around the room, and I realize what I did. So, yeah, I run like a bat out of hell. By the time I stop running I have no clue where I am. Then rain happens. So much for meeting the gang.
