Chapter 1

"Oh, shut up Two-Bit."

"You shut up, little girl!"

"I'm almost 16, I'm not a little girl!"

"Says you!"

This type of conversation is regularly heard when I'm around Two-Bit Matthews. We argue like brother and sister, since we practically are related. Well, not really, but we had grown up together, and he has always been that type of friend that you felt related to, and I love him like a sibling.

We're from two different groups unfortunately. He's a Greaser, and I'm considered a Soc, but the Socs don't know what to think of me. I'm just an average girl with a middle-class family who has friends from different social groups. So, basically, I was considered versatile by some, weird by others, and popular and pretty to most. I hate those words, popular and pretty. They should banish them from the dictionary I say. Who cares about the amount of friends or looks? It's the personality that counts! If someone's nice and funny, they're automatically my kind of buddy.

That explains why I like and tolerate Two-Bit. The Greasers and I are the only ones who know his real name, Keith. I'm on the verge of forgetting it though. I haven't called him that since I was 6, and he was 8.

His obsession with Mickey Mouse is equal to my obsession with Minnie Mouse, but I would never wear her on my shirts. I'm not that scary. Yet I love the way he wears those stupid shirts with such undeniable confidence. I think I'm the only one who knows that his confidence was really shaky when we were younger, but he eventually popped out of his shell with so much enthusiasm he wouldn't stop talking for weeks. He always pulled pranks on me, and, needless to say, I wasn't too shocked to find he'd started doing it to everyone else. Everything is a joke to him, and he always has to add one or two things to the conversation. Darrel [Darry Curtis is the one who gave him the name Two-Bit.

His friends and I are particularly close also, just not as close as he and I. I'm a sister to most of them too.

Sodapop always gives me free stuff at the gas station and a nice backrub if I beg for one. He is amazing at those, I swear. The only thing I hate is his taste in girls. I know Sandy, and she's not what she's cracked up to be. She's a sweet girl, but she changes her mind so easily it's scary. He was too handsome for her, and dare I say it, had the manliest beauty I'd ever seen. But he is a friend and nothing more.

Darry is a bit busier than Soda, but I bring him a bologna sandwich with Mayo and a glass of milk for lunch every day he is working, and I sometimes try to help him if his boss isn't around. I can't do a lot though, so I just help with the small things.

Dally, I know, is not as tough as he acts. He thinks I've forgotten the time when he stubbed his toe badly and actually shed a tear. I had dropped my bike and ran back to my house to find a band-aid for him. This was five years ago, and he made me keep my word by threatening to hack off my honey blonde hair. I've never told a soul, and just let him believe I'd forgotten. He's very protective of me, threatening to knock out any boy who hurts me as if I'm too fragile to get merely poked.

I don't care much for Steve sometimes, and I know that he does have his good and bad moments. I think he would be nicer to me if I was older. All in all, he's a pretty good guy I guess.

Ponyboy and I always have a laugh together, since he understands Two-Bits sense of humor like I do. He's a sweet kid, and he could go far in life if he didn't live here...

Johnny is different; he's the group's 'pet'. He reminds me of my aunt's baby daschund, Poppy. She is quiet and jumpy, like someones out to get her...just like Johnny. I sit with Two-Bit, Pony, and him at lunch and he never really tries to join in to the conversation. He's in a few of my classes too, and just sits there,

doodling. I've made him talk before though. I threatened him 7 years ago in the nicest possible way by telling him I would throw Darry's dirty socks at him. It worked wonders. He said his first word: "What!"

Although I mainly hang out with the Greasers, I'm not considered one at all. I'm not a Soc either, though. Girls cling to me for dear life so much it gets annoying. They think hanging out with me will give them a good repuatation. That's a lie. Everyone sees me as some perfect girl-next-door; yet another lie.