CHAPTER ONE

September 1965.

Saturday night.

"Sylvia, you still awake?"

My brother's voice cuts through the night air, and peering across the room I can just about see his outline illuminated by the hall light as he hovers in the doorway of my room.

"Jesus, Nick, what the hell? You drunk or something?" I complain, throwing a hand over my eyes.

"Sshh. You'll wake mom and dad," he persists. "Listen, I need to tell you something. Can I come in?"

Sighing, I struggle to sit up then snap on my bedside lamp because it seems he ain't waiting for an answer from me anyway, just stumbles on in and settles himself down on the edge of my bed. Only he doesn't look at me, just traces the pattern on my bedspread with his fingertips and stares at the floor.

I've an uneasy feeling in my stomach. My brother ain't ever one for being quiet, but his face - he looks so damn serious, like whatever is on his mind is a big deal. I need him to speak, let me in on whatever it is that's bothering him; I can't take this awkward silence any more. But now he's here, he doesn't seem in any hurry to continue and so I settle on asking him a question, something to focus his attention back on me.

"So what's the matter then? You had a fall out with Judith or something?"

He looks up, shakes his head then rubs his hand over his face. He looks so tired, older than nineteen, his face grey in the dim light. "Was up at Buck's earlier and—"

"So you are drunk then?" I grin at him, roll my eyes.

"Sylv, please. Just listen will you?" And something about his tone makes me shiver.

"Yeah, okay." I sigh, push my hair back from my face and stare at him. "So what's bothering you?"

"Dallas."

"Glory, Nick. You're waking me up in the middle of the damn night just to talk about Dallas fucking Winston?" I scowl at him, annoyed now and wondering why in all hell he's in here if all he wants to talk about is my jerk of an ex-boyfriend. My brother never made any secret as to what he thought of Dallas when we were together, so this don't make any sense. "What in the hell has that asshole done now that couldn't wait until morning? Talking more trash about me? Telling everyone I'm some two-timing easy lay who cheated on him again? You do know I don't care what he says about me, that it's all garbage?"

"Sylv, please, can you just listen to me?" he pleads. It's right then I realise something must be really, really wrong. Not just by his tone, but because my brother suddenly grabs a hold of my hand as he starts up speaking again. "There's been some... accident. Earlier tonight. Apparently he robbed a store, threatened the guy with a gun. They shot him. He's dead, Sylv."

I feel cold. Ask the question even though I know exactly who he's talking about, just don't want to believe it, not yet. "Who's dead?"

"Dallas." And then my brother just hugs me, before sitting back a little. "Look, I know you two ain't together anymore, ain't even been on speaking terms lately. But I just thought it'd be better if you heard it from me instead of anyone else, given everything that happened between the two of you."

Everything that ever happened between us, there's an understatement. It can't be right, Nick must have misheard. No way that Dallas would do something that dumb. "Tell me again, exactly what you heard, what's supposed to have happened."

But as Nick talks, telling me about some rumble, then that kid Johnny over in the hospital dying and Dallas losing it I ain't really listening.

No. I'm thinking of my own memories of the first boy I ever loved; the one guy who I kept going back to no matter how he treated me, who I couldn't ever seem to stay away from for very long. Guess that ain't a problem I'm going to have no more. Ain't going to have him following me home from work or turning up on the front porch, trying to make me think I can't live without him. Because I ain't got no choice now. I might have made him believe that I never wanted to see him again, that I was happier without him, better off with someone else. Only now I know I ain't ever gonna see him again, or that arrogant half smile as he leans in to kiss me; the way he would always tell me I was beautiful, the only one who actually meant anything to him; my God I miss him. But then I get another image of him, making no effort to hide the fact he's just spent the last hour with some other girl, his clothes more rumpled than usual and his shirt buttoned up wrong, lipstick on his face and his grin more smug than ever as he saunters over and kisses me like it's nothing, and I find myself thinking it would be so much less painful if I could only hate him.

"Sylv? Say something will you?"

My brother's voice brings me back to the here and now. I try to keep calm, concentrate on the sound of Nick's voice, only everything is sliding out of focus, tears cascading down my cheeks now as I sniff and wipe at my face. But it's no use, the tears don't stop, just find myself shaking and sobbing as my brother wraps me in his strong arms and holds me close, smooths my hair.

"Shit, Sylv. He ain't worth this; I thought you were over him this time."

"Yeah, me too."

xxxxxx

October 1964.

Friday night.

"So what's a good looking girl like you doing out here all alone?"

Jesus. Just when I think things can't get any worse along comes this asshole and his bullshit; standing there like he believes he's something real special, his shirt half untucked, messy blonde hair falling in his eyes. The perfect end to what's already become the crummiest day ever. I can't believe Nick is being such a jerk about me being here; ain't like he's no better, 'cause he ain't technically old enough to be here either. Got no wish to talk it through with this pain in the ass though so I just carry on staring straight ahead and take another drag on my cigarette, hoping he'll just leave me alone. No such fucking luck.

"Hey, I'm talking to you, doll, ain't you got no manners?" he asks, grinning, as he steps closer, rests a hand under my chin and tilts my head so I'm looking right at him.

"What the hell?" I gasp, surprised by just how gentle his touch is as he pushes my hair back behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my skin. Find myself unexpectedly disappointed when he drops his hand back to his side.

"Sylvia, ain't it? Seen you around, with Shepard and his crowd." And the way he says it, well I ain't sure why, but it unsettles me a little, gives me butterflies.

"Yeah, that's me, and you are?" I ask, even though I know full well; don't think there's anyone about here who doesn't know who Dallas Winston is. Ain't gonna give him the satisfaction of admitting that though.

He just laughs. "Reckon you ought to answer my question before you get to ask me any your own, don't you?"

"Had a fight with my brother." I shrug, can feel myself getting angry all over again. Much as I love my brother, he don't half piss me off sometimes, especially when he thinks he can tell me what to do just 'cause he's one lousy year older than me. "Seems he thinks I ain't old enough to be hanging around in here. Which is a joke, seeing as he's been coming here for years. He'll be out here in a minute, says he's taking me home. Probably give me another damn lecture too."

"Well, that don't sound much fun." Dallas steps even closer, leans in and makes a suggestion, his voice a low whisper. "Although I've an idea that might make him really mad, if you're interested?"

Maybe I'm just letting my frustration get the better of me, or maybe it's the drink talking because despite knowing what he's like, being well aware of Dallas Winston's less than stellar reputation - hell, it ain't like he's even my type - I still find myself nodding, wanting to know what he's got in mind. "Yeah, why not?"

So that's how, two minutes later, I'm in the front seat of Buck Merril's T-bird, the pair of us laughing uncontrollably at the shock on my brother's face as he stands there on the front steps, watching me wave at him as we drive off into the dark night.

A/N: The Outsiders belong to SE Hinton, the title is from a song by Arctic Monkeys.

I decided to try something new, with a look at Sylvia, Dallas and their relationship. I hope you like it - I'd love to know what you think, and if it's worth continuing :)