I do not own Outsiders or any of SE Hinton's characters.
NOTE- Italics means past, normal means present. The past skips a lot of years between events, but the present is all in one continuous night.
. . .
"What the hell is this?"
His left hand is clamped hard around you wrist. You twist and try to pull away but he just tightens his grip.
"Dally it's nothing, just-just let it go."
He hesitates for a second before releasing your arm. You pull it close to your body and hug it with your other arm, hiding the bright red cuts against your lacy bra. Neither of you move for a moment, you refuse to look up from his feet and he's stuck about a foot away from you with his hand still out in front like you burned him. Finally he grabs his shirt and pulls it over his head, leaving for the door. You stay staring at the wooden floor, tears nearly brimming over the edge of your eyes as you wished for him to come back and just hold you for the millionth time. The tears don't fall though, you haven't cried since you were ten.
. . .
"Sylvia Peters, the office wants you."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you walked down the hall to the main office. It was just a few doors down; Tulsa Elementary School was a small building, but it felt like hours to get there. Your rack your mind for what you could've done to get in trouble. You didn't think talking in class could get you in so much trouble, you didn't mean it, honest. Marcia started talking to you first, it wasn't fair you got in trouble!
You make a little fist with your hand and knock on the hard wood door. It opens almost immediately. Your principal looms above you with a hardened face. "Ah, Sylvia."
You follow him into the office swallowing hard. You want to explain the situation to him, but you don't seem able to make words. You figure you can just explain it once he asks for your side of he story.
To your surprise he stopped just a few feet into the office and reaches over you to shut the door. Through the window you see the secretary watching you intently. Your heart starts pumping harder, you must be in big trouble.
"Sylvia, its about your dad..." It's then you realize this trip wasn't for you at all.
By the time he finishes your eyes are wet. "Your mom will be here in a few minutes," he says, before shutting the door with a click leaving you alone in his office.
The feeling of longing overcomes you and you hug yourself, trying to imagine it was his arms instead. You let yourself sob for what seemed like only a minute before the door opens and you see your mother standing their, eyes red.
You run into her arms and hug her, feeling her body shake under you. With your hands you wipe your eyes and rub her back, biting your lip to keep from crying again.
Nothing seemed worth crying for since then.
. . .
You hear the door creak open and look up after a pause. He's standing halfway out the door, his head turned to you but his body turned to leave. "I'd better not see that again," Dallas says finally, shutting the door behind him after giving you one last hard look.
You let your feet lead you to the bed and you slump into it, hugging yourself for warmth. The springs groan as you lie back and stare at the white ceiling. The pounding from the music fades into the background as you let your eyes go out of focus and imagine your any where but there.
Somewhere away this; away from everything.
You wonder when your life became so out of control. Or maybe it always had been, you just hadn't notice it until then.
. . .
The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. Fresh out of middle school you were on top of the world. What were the chances your new neighbour turned out to be one of the most well known party girls in school. Her skirt hugged your hips close, your new shirt was tight in all the right places. You've never felt so sexy and confident in your life.
The moment you enter the party you are introduced to person upon person. She seemed to know everyone, and everyone knew her. They welcomed you right in, throwing their arms around your shoulders and giving you perverted compliments. You giggled and flirted with everyone, feeling more joyful and loved than you had in a long time.
It is late at night when she finally dragged you outside. To your surprise she leads you out back to where couples were busy making out and shooting up. You followed her like a lost puppy behind a dumpster to a circle of teens of all ages.
She sits on the ground and makes a grab for the joint going around, sucking on it appreciatively. Her eyes shut as she exhales, the smoke clouding around her face in long strands and wisps, the overhead street lamp's light making her look translucent. For a moment you swear she's an angel.
You blink your eyes trying to shake the image, the smoke parting with the wind and the world returning to normal. Obediently you sit on the cold ground beside her at her command. She gives you a weak smile and holds out the joint.
You look around the circle. Everyone was relaxed watching you with lazy eyes. She waves the joint to get your attention, losing patience. You've never done drugs before, this was the first night you've ever even drank. You look from the joint to her, fuck it.
Taking once last look at her you make a reach for it and breath in.
. . .
You zone back in when you hear a rough knock on the door. You grabbed your shirt and pulled it over your head, running for the door. You open it with a huff. A tall lanky figure, leaning lazily against the door frame, greeted you gruffly. Your heart falls.
His dark eyes flick past you into the room, peering around curiously. "Your guy ran out of here pretty fast...everything alright?"
You know he isn't here to check to see if your alright, but you bring him in anyways. You need a distraction. Someone who isn't even close to who you wanted to be at that door.
As you lead him in you can feel his eyes checking out your ass. You sway your hips just a little more, shivering when you feel his hot breath against your neck. You come to a stop, his hands finding a way on your hips.
You make a moan appreciatively, this isn't anything new.
. . .
The house is dark.
Your feet move faster towards it than normal; your imagination biting at your heels like wild dogs. The door opens with a creak and you feel a wave of relief flood over you as you shut it behind you. Until then your worst fears were all outside of your house.
"Who were you all dressed up for tonight?"
You were young and stupid and innocent back then. You should've been able to recognize the slur in his voice; the way his eyes travelled over your body; the monster the alcohol turned him into. But you didn't, you were just an oblivious kid.
"I just went to the movies with some friends, it was fun. The movie, and everyone there-it was hilarious."
He gives you a crooked grin and something twists in your gut but you ignore it. He reaches out and starts twirling a strand of your hair around his finger when the smell hits you.
"You know your mom's out tonight..."
You take a step back instinctively and hit a wall. Your mind battles against itself over what's happening; it can't be what your thinking. "Your drunk," you say bluntly.
His dirty hand drops to your shoulder. "You know, you look so much like your mother...I should've picked you up at the bar instead."
He laughs at his own joke and moves down your arm. His hand is cold, leaving a numb trail in its wake. "Stop," you say, your voice wavering.
He doesn't listen as his hand continued its slow path down your arm. He never listened.
Not once that entire night.
. . .
You look at the ceiling above you as he hovers above you, his fingertips brushing the skin just underneath the top of your skirt. He said his name was Rick.
His fingertips were smooth.
He smelt like cheap cologne and beer.
He didn't kiss your collarbone.
Everywhere he touched turned numb.
You didn't want this anymore. It wasn't right.
"Stop," you whisper, his hands edging their way to your skirt zipper.
"Stop," you repeat, louder but still a whisper. His hands waver but continue on their path. "C'mon, you don't mean that." he whines.
Panic rises in your throat and you shove at him, trying to get him off you. It was all wrong. You don't want this anymore, you needed him to leave. "Stop!"
He yells and pulls away from you instantly, grabbing your wrists with his hands and pushing them above your head, pinning you down. You scream in protest and try to free yourself, kicking and clawing and biting at anything you can reach. Finally he rolls off you. In a second you scramble to your knees and crouch like an animal on the bed, looking up to see him clear on the other side of the room, yanking his shoes on. "Jeezus, calm the fuck down, I'm going!"
The minute the door slams behind him you collapse on the bed in sobs. You hugged a pillow to your chest, burying your face into it. What was wrong with you?
. . .
You walked down the street numb, hands shaking beside you. You didn't know where you were going, but you needed to move. To leave. You couldn't stay in that house one more second or else your swore you would've lost it.
Your mom's voice echoes in your head. "You lazy slut, why don't you do something instead of sit on your ass all day? I'm the only one bringing in any money, Jesus Christ at least do something with yourself. You don't even fucking appreciate me! I work my ass off for you and you make my boyfriend leave! I should've had a fucking abortion it would've been better to deal with than you." You blanked out then, only hearing her again when the first dish crashed by your head against the wall. She didn't have to ask for you to leave.
"But I did do something today mom! I fuckin' wouldn't let your boyfriend rape me! I chased him outta the fuckin' house with a knife and told him to never come back! And guess what? I'm happy he listened!" You whisper harshly to the dark, your words being carried away with the wind. If only you had the guts to say it to her face.
You kick a rock with your foot and grunt loudly. Your breath is coming out in heaves and your heart is about to explode. You walk faster and faster until your nearly running when you run into a sudden wall.
Picking yourself up off the ground from where you fell you learn its not a wall, in fact, but a guy. He gives you a hard stare after regaining his balance and shoves his hands in his pockets. Shivers run down your spine.
"What's your name?" he asks roughly, not even offering to help you up.
"Sylvia," you say, straightening yourself out.
"Well then, fuck you Sylvia."
You snarl at him as he turns his back on you and starts leaving. "And what's your name?" you demand angrily.
"Dallas Winston, don't forget it." he calls cockily over his shoulder.
"Yeah, well then fuck you Dallas Winston!" You can hear him laughing down the block.
. . .
You jerk up when you feel someone touch you. Strong arms pin your own to your chest and hold you against their body. After a moment you relax, recognizing his voice. "Calm down its just me."
You sink into his chest your heart rate slowing down. "I didn't hear you come in."
You could almost feel him smirk into the back of your head. He loosens his grip on your body and molds with you comfortably. You wait for him to flip you over or straddle you or do something but he never does, he just stays holding you close.
You watch as he pulls your arm out from your chest and softly touches you cuts with your thumbs. "I've never seen you cry before." he states bluntly.
At first your at a lost for words. "Who said I was crying?" you shot back lamely.
"There's makeup all over your face."
Immediately you start wiping under your eyes with your hands. He swats them away. "Stop moving dammit..." His voice was tired. "I can't see your face anyways right now."
Resisting the urge you drop your hands on the pillow. "Well, don't get used to it."
He breathes a laugh. "I wouldn't want to."
Rolling your eyes you kicked back gently with your heel into his shin. A muffled 'fuck you' was the reply.
You shut your eyes, a small smile forming on your face. "Yeah, well fuck you too Dallas Winston."
. . .
Fin.
Thanks for reading, this was just a quick thing I didn't really plan on, I just started writing and this came out of it.
Reviews Appreciated!
And I'm thinking about doing another story like this, with like a past event that relates to what's happening in the future, Winston style. Would anyone be interested in that?