Down in Tulsa, Oklahoma Dallas Winston lacks love. He barely feels it, and barely has people who show him it. Dally practically loses it when the only thing he actually loves dies, but will one person be able to save his life? The Outsiders is a classic that many people have loved. Here's my altered version of it. I hope you all like it!

Disclaimer: SE Hinton owns The Outsiders, I only own Rowan and John Bishop. Any relation to real life events is entirely coincidental.

Rowan's POV

I stepped into the prison, following the burly officer who was taking me to see my father.

"Right in there, Miss," he said to me in a raspy voice.

"Thank you," I said smiling as he left. I picked up the phone as I looked at my father through the glass. He hasn't shaved in ages, I can tell. And he has this tired look on his brown eyes.

"How's it goin', Dad?" I ask him, knowing the answer. He got caught after stealing a ham at the store. It couldn't be worse for him right now. The only positive thing is that he would be getting released in a week.

My father shrugged. "Prison's no stroll in the park," he said in his Boston accent. We both had one. It's where our family grew up. "How's Mum? And Madison? And Paris? And Felicia?"

I smiled a bit. "We're all alright, I guess. Even Tanner." Tanner was our 8 year old cat.

"I guess? What's going on, Row?"

"Nothing bad, it's just weird without you around."

My father chuckled. "Just seven more days, you can cope. These ninety days have blown by. No other kids have been giving you beef, have they?"

I stiffed a laughed. "No! They know not to mess with John Bishop's kid."

My father chuckled. "That's my girl."

I looked around and spotted my father's cell mate. A young man, smoking a cigarette, maybe one or two years older than myself. He had messy brown hair and brown eyes. Very attractive with a look of loneliness on his face.

"Daddy, who's that?" I said pointing. I really wanted to find out.

"Dallas Winston. He's in for thieving too. Poor kid, says he was first in jail when he was ten. Never gets any visitors." My father saw the look on my face and figured out instantly what I was thinking. "Oh no, no, no, no! Dallas Winston is nothing but trouble, and there is no way he will influence you!"

I shook my head. "Let me go and talk to him. He seems…interesting. Love you, Daddy." I lifted from my seat and told an officer that I wanted to speak to Dallas Winston.

"Dallas Winston? You sure, Sweetheart?" the cop told me. I nodded. He went in to tell Dallas. I just hoped I wasn't making a mistake.

Dally's POV

The stupid cop that arrested me came into my cell. I looked him dead in the eyes as he looked at me and sighed. I laughed.

"Winston, you've got a visitor. On the phone." He left and locked the cell. Well, damn. I thought he'd be stupid enough to forget and I could escape again like last time I was locked up. I remembered what he said and walked over to the phone. Maybe it was Johnny.

It wasn't Johnny. It was some broad. A cute broad though. She had light caramel skin with dark eyes. Her hair was a dark brown that was curly and had golden tips.

"Sorry, Cutie, but I think you've got the wrong cell," I said secretly hoping she didn't.

The girl shook her head. "Oh no, I'm John's daughter. I saw you in the cell and had to ask about you."

I raised my eyebrows at her. "Oh really, now. What's your name, Doll?"

She giggled. "Rowan. I'm sixteen."

"The name's Dallas, but you can call me Dally. I'm seventeen." I pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a match. "I would've never guessed you were John's kid. You're so pretty, y'know."

Rowan giggled again. "So, when are you getting out? You can't be locked up in here forever."

I took the cigarette out of my mouth. "I have what, thirty days left. But you know, girl, we should keep in touch. It's not every day you meet a pretty little thing like you, y'know."

Rowan took out a notepad and wrote down something then slid it to me. "Call me sometime," she said as she got up. She waved goodbye to me as she went out the door.

I examined her number in my hands. I wasn't going to call her, no way. I'm Dallas Winston and I don't need nobody to help me. Nobody to care for me. My old man doesn't give a hang for anything I do. I can live by myself.

I thought about Sylvia, the two-timing broad who is probably in some other man's pants as I think, and I realize, I can forget her. She doesn't give two shits about me anyways. I'll be out of prison soon enough and back to the boys. I put out my smoke, and went to my bed to take a nap.