Name: Babygirl Davids

Age: 14

Height: 5'2

Hair: Long, Dirty blonde

Eyes: Hazel-blue

Name: Angel Davids

Age: 16

Height: 5'6

Hair: Short, Dirty blonde

Eyes: Hazel-green

Boys Ages:

Ponyboy: 14

Sodapop: 17

Darry: 20

Dally: 18

Two-bit: 18

Steve: 17

Johnny: 16

Love. The one thing I'll never understand. I mean there are so many different versions of love. There's puppy love, a love where you're too young to understand that it's only a temporary crush; parental love is a love given to a child from a parent or parental figure; soul mate love, a love that most don't believe in anymore because it mainly exists in fairy tales or on the big screen. Then there's companionate love, a love that you feel towards a friend, and it's that one love my sister, Angel and I can't escape.

Though my sister won't admit it to anyone including me, she has been in this type of love for years. With whom do you ask? Well, it's none other than Sodapop Curtis. Yes, him. I know what you are thinking. 'But he is with Sandy.' I know. I know, but I guess that's why she won't admit it.

Of course, I have no room to talk. I've been in this type of love with Ponyboy Curtis ever since I met him, and trust me when I say it sucks. Yes, it sucks! You try hiding those curtain feelings for years and never acting on them. But I guess that's our luck in life, just like everything else. Even before we moved to Tulsa, we've had rotten luck.

It was ten years ago, so I was only four then. I don't remember much, but what I do remember haunts me to this day. I was sitting in my room doing something when suddenly I heard the front door slam open. I walked out of my room and slowly made my way to the living room which was right down stairs. Then I heard a scream which made me stop immediately because I knew that scream. It was my mother's. I slowly began to walk down the stairs again. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw my father standing over my mother's motionless body holding a knife that stained with blood. He was laughing. I wanted to do many things in that second: scream, cry, yell, ask 'why', but I didn't. I just stood there, afraid to even tremble.

Angel, who was six then, ran into the room. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene before her. The man we called our father stopped laughing and began to walk towards me. I wanted my legs to move but they wouldn't. As he got closer, he reached a hand out to touch me. Seeing this Angel jumped in front of me standing between me and the devil himself. I don't know what happened after that because, according to Angel, I fainted. She never told me what happened or how we escaped. All she told me was 'I took care of it, and we will never see him again.' Then we moved to Tulsa to live with our mother's sister.

The ride to Tulsa was quiet. Angel didn't want to say anything because there was a chance I would cry, and I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to cry. When we arrived, our aunt showed us our rooms and left, saying that her boss needed her at work. After hours of just sitting around, Angel took me outside to get some fresh air. That's when we saw them.

A group of seven boys walking down the street kicking a can around. They were laughing, but then one of them kicked the can and it landed in our yard. The boys ran over stopping on the sidewalk in front of us. Angel stood protectively in front of me.

"Um, sorry, can we have our can back," the eldest asked.

I looked at the can then to Angel, but all she did was stand there glaring at the boys as if daring them to come over and mess with us. I slowly leaned down and picked up the can. Before Angel could stop me, I gave the can to a boy who looked around my age.

"Here," I mumbled holding out the can.

He smiled and took the can, "thanks." He turned back the other boys, "now we can play some more." They cheered. He turned back to me, "you want to play too?"

I looked at Angel. Her eyes softened. She nodded. I turned back to the boy, "sure."

We started to kick the can around to each other while trying to keep it from the others. It was really fun.

"I'm Ponyboy, by the way. I'm four-years-old." he said kicking it to me.

I kicked it back, "I'm Babygirl. I'm four-years-old too, and that's my big sister, Angel. She's six."

He stopped mid-kick and pointed to the other boys, "that's Johnny; he's six. That's Dally and Keith or Two-bit; they're eight. That's Steve; he is seven. And that's my big brother Darry, who is ten, and my other big brother Sodapop, who is also seven."

I noticed the one he called Sodapop was talking to Angel. He was making her laugh and smile more than I've seen her do in a long time. But of course, back then, I didn't think anything about it, just like when Ponyboy would look at me, I would get a funny feeling. Like I said before, love is the one thing I'll never understand.