AUTHOR'S NOTE: All characters besides Crystal and her family belong to S.E. Hinton. Some characters from her other books, That Was Then, This Is Now and Tex are mentioned in here. Minor roles, but still mentioned. NOTE THAT ACTUAL EXCERPTS FROM THE BOOK AND MOVIE HAVE BEEN USED. Otherwise please enjoy, and all reviews welcomed. Also, title is taken from The Crystals' song He's a Rebel .
I sat by the living room window, watching my parents unload the boxes from the small moving van. Our new house, an actual house, was modest, but better than living in a small apartment in Los Angeles in a bad area, and was one of the better ones in the neighborhood. It was two stories tall, a small brick house, with three small bedrooms, a bathroom and a half, kitchen, living room, a small front yard and something that just passes as a backyard. If a small, fenced off place full of dead grass and weeds counts as a yard.
My mother came into the house, carrying two boxes, and set them down, wiping her forehead. She was beautiful, my mother, she could try for modeling if she wanted to. Short, wavy, strawberry blonde hair, shinning sky blue eyes and always dressed in nice, clean dresses. No matter how bad our situation was, she was always nicely dressed, almost rivaling the women in Beverly Hills. She was kind, open to everyone, able to find the good in every soul no matter how bad.
I went over to her, clutching my toy Corvette and tugged on her dress. "Mommy, can I go out? There's nothing to do here."
"I don't know honey... We don't really know the neighbor-"
"Let Crystal go out and explore, nothing is going to happen to her. It's a tight knit neighborhood here."
My father, half English, half German, was a tall, well built man who lived in Nazi Germany and fought for them under threat of death, came in and took me into his arms. Despite the frightening childhood he had lived, he had a heart of gold. His figure was threatening, but once you got to know him he was one of the kindest men you'll have ever met. Sometimes though he would have moments when he would go back to his memories and throw the worst fits ever. But he was my father, and I loved him.
"Just don't go more than a block away, okay Princess?" He said, setting me down.
"Okay Daddy!"
I went out of the house and into the hot, end of summer Tulsa sun, taking my shiny, red toy and skipping out into the street. Kids only a few years older were sitting on their front porches with friends or older siblings; teenagers were mock fighting or playing football in their yards, and couples sat under the shade of trees, cuddling or more.
At the end of the block and the other side of the street, three boys were playing in their front yard. Looking both ways, I ran across the street and set my hand on the chain link fence, watching them. Two of them were older than me, and were tossing a football to each other, laughing. The third looked about my age, maybe younger, and was playing with a few toy cars and trucks, making sound effects.
It was a few minutes before any of them noticed me, and it was the youngest who saw me first. He stood up uneasily, and toddled over to me, setting his hand over mine. He had light brown, almost red hair, green-grey eyes, and was wearing a blue Superman t-shirt with faded blue jeans.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"I'm Ponyboy Curtis, what's your name?"
"Crystal Kantor, I just moved here from Los Angeles. I really like your name. And your t-shirt. Superman is cool."
He grinned, running a hand through his hair.
"I like your name too, it's real pretty. People usually think my name is weird. They say that about my brother Sodapop too."
"What about me?" The second oldest came over, and I couldn't help thinking of how awfully pretty he was, movie star handsome I guess. The kind of handsome that would have all the scouts in Hollywood fighting for him. He had long, straight dark gold hair and shinning dark brown eyes that were dancing with happiness in the late summer sun. He was just the type of boy you would expect to see in places like Orange County or Beverly Hills, not in a low class neighborhood like the one I had lived in. "Hey, I never seen you around here before."
"I just moved here. I'm Crystal."
"Is that a Corvette?" He asks, pointing to my toy. "But you're a girl!"
"Girls can do anything boys can!"
"Soda, you don't just go tellin' people that! Who cares if she plays with cars? Corvettes are tuff anyway. I'm Darrel by the way, but you can call me Darry. Want to play with us?" The oldest joined his brothers, smiling at me. He had kind of long, dark brown hair, and pale blue-green eyes, glittering like the ocean water at Laguna Beach in springtime. He had a pretty good build for someone his age, and from what I saw when he was playing with the football with Soda, he seemed to use it to his advantage.
But the way he said tough didn't sound right to me, and I tilted my head, holding tightly to my toy.
"What does tough mean?"
"Oh, in our neighborhood, there's tough and tuff, spelled T-U-F-F. It means cool, just like your car. So do you want to play?"
I nodded, smiling, and he reached up to open the gate for me.
We played for about an hour under the hot sun, until the boys' mother comes out with cookies and milk. She was almost the exact image of Soda, with a warm smile and a slim figure. She seemed delighted to meet me, and asked me a lot of questions of what it was like to live in Los Angeles. I felt happy there, talking with Patricia and playing with Pony, until I heard my parents and brother desperately calling out my name.
"Crystal darling, did you tell your parents where you went?" Patricia asked. In response I ran out of the house, leaving behind my car.
"Mommy, Mommy I'm right here!" I jumped into her arms and she hugs me tightly, her breathing ragged, and I can tell that she was close to tears.
"Honey, don't ever, ever go off that long without telling us where you are!"
"I'm sorry Mommy, but I was just having so much fun with Darry and Soda and Pony!"
At that moment Patricia and the boys came out, Ponyboy holding my car. "I'm so sorry, I should have gone over to your house to introduce myself and tell you that Crystal was safe. I'm Patricia Curtis by the way, and these are my boys Darry, Sodapop and Ponyboy." Soda and Pony were hiding behind their mother's skirts, looking intimidated by my father, and Darry and Michael were looking at each other, the latter frowning slightly. Dad laughed, wrapping an arm around my mother's waist.
"It's okay. I'm Frank Kantor, my wife Natalie and my son Michael." He stuck out his hand and Patricia shook it, smiling. She asked if we wanted to come inside, and my parents responded positively. Mom set me down, kissing my cheek, while Dad pat my head, and followed Patricia, Darry and Michael into the small house while Soda, Pony and I hung outside. Pony handed me back the Corvette, and I took it back, grinning.
"Shucks, you and your parents sure look close," Soda says, looking at the retreating figures
"Yeah, I love them more than anyone in the whole world."
"Kinda like how I love Mom and Dad and Darry and Pony." He said, wrapping an arm around his brother's shoulders.
