The fact that we were being sent away to Tulsa, Oklahoma, made me kind of mad. I liked New York! What's wrong with living freely? What's wrong with gangs? Apparently, my mom didn't agree to my lifestyle. She hated that I was always getting into troubles with the fuzz, and hanging out with 'violent people'. She can't really change the way I live, so she just sent me and my brother away. Now I've visited Tulsa a couple of times when I was younger since I had a grandpa who lived here, and let's just say that there aren't that much going around, although it probably changed since the last time I visited. I was nine then.

And so my journey began when me and my brother, Tony, walked into our grandpa's… err… house. Honestly, it looked more like a dirty garage then a home. I quickly exchanged looks of disgust with Tony before entering further into this 'house'.

Tony and I are twins but we look nothing alike. He's one tough hood, and anyone smart enough wouldn't dare to make him upset. He even scared me at times. Maybe it was the way his green eyes burned into yours, or his buff body that he spent years to contain. He reminded me of our dad, who ran away with a blonde tramp when we were three. They were both intimidating and strong, but Tony really cared about me. Back at home, everyone made sure that Tony was happy, and stayed happy. No one wanted to make him angry. You do whatever he says, and you're safe. If he wasn't family, then I wouldn't like him so much. But he's my brother, so he treated me different than the rest. One time, a drunk guy bumped into him in the streets and Tony beat him up so hard that he knocked the guy's front teeth out. It was a bloody mess.

I, on the other hand, am completely different. I'm no angel, and believe me when I say that, but my looks don't define my personality much. I have green eyes with a hint of blue and light wavy brown hair that reaches down to my back. My friend's used to call me 'dollface' and I hated it. I'm proud of my body though. I don't look like my mom or my dad. Tony used to always tell me I was adopted, since I didn't look like any of them. I didn't act like any of them either. I get into trouble a lot, but I'm real nice unless you get on my nerves. I have a short temper so I can be 'a little devil' like Tone always says. I'm the type of girl who's used to being around guys. Most girls bugged me. You get used to it if you lived with a hood like my brother.

Tony treated me nice though. He took me to places and showed me things. He was always telling me his adventures and all the mess he's gone into. I sometimes wonder why anyone hasn't gone and blown his head off. He could be a real pain in the ass. He was real fun to be around though, and that's why I loved him so much. He's reckless, getting into fights and stuff, but he took responsibility of me. He let me do whatever I want but if he sensed danger, he got real protective. It's kinda funny 'cause he's only thirty minutes older than me. It's all good because we both trust each other real well. He's always been there for me, unlike my parents. My mom was real strict and uptight so she never gave me any freedom, but that never stopped me from sneaking out. Besides, she was always too busy working.

Tony was the only one in this world that I truly trusted with my life. Our friends back in New York thought that was strange because brothers usually treated their sisters like a tagalong, but Tony never did that. Our relationship was special and nobody really understood that.

"This house is shit." Tony said, and I sniffed in agreement. He was always honest. "You call this a house? God, I could already tell that this is gonna be a living hell."

This place literally was a dump house. There was trash everywhere, empty plates left unwashed in the sink, a broken roof, and a torn up sofa with an old man sleeping on top. It reeked of a strange smell, which I was guessing to be the molded food. Didn't he ever clean? I'm not the type to clean either, but my room never got this messy. I wouldn't be surprised if I found a dry skeleton in there somewhere.

"Gramps?" I called out softly to the scrawny figure on the couch. He stirred quietly but woke up a few seconds later and a forced grin replaced his tired expression.

"Trish, Tony… Had a nice trip?"

I could sense the dread in his voice. He probably even forgot that we were going to be living with him from now on. And that was totally cool with me. It wasn't like he was the best grandpa in the world. He barely did shit for us, so we made sure we were a pain in the ass to him. It was simple and easy. When grandma was alive, he used to be more active. He used to tell us about his life back then and how he helped the slaves and some shit, but after she died, his sorrow was drowned in alcohol. After that, he just got old and drunk. Didn't seem like such a happy life to live.

He looked really different. His white hair was fading, revealing more of his skin. His wrinkles were creased in deeply, and I could tell that he was aging quickly. His arms and legs were like bony twigs, and I felt that if I touched them, they'd break and crumble into a pile of dust. I couldn't imagine myself as an old lady. It scared me a bit, to know that one day, we're all gonna end up looking like him and all the other old people in the world.

"Define nice." I muttered.

"How's your mother?"

"Fantastic."

She really wasn't. My mom… she was someone strange. She liked having things perfectly and if it wasn't the way she wanted, then she made this whole big fuss. She was never happy with us. If we did what we were supposed to do, then she'll lecture us on how we should listen to her more and how we were such failures and we couldn't do shit. But I guess I sometimes pushed her to those points too. She just really got on my nerves! We just didn't dig each other. It's hard to believe that she used to love me and take care of me when I was younger. Our personalities didn't clash well so we were arguing all the time. We were both stubborn in our own ways.

After a few awkward exchanged looks, I decided to unpack my stuff in the empty room upstairs but Tony interrupted. "Trish, go buy some cigarettes, will ya? I really could use some right now."

I gave him a nod and was about to head out, but I remembered that I spent all my money during the ride here. "Got some cash on you?"

I left the dump with a pocket full of cash and headed towards the gas station that we drove by earlier. I was hoping that there would be some part-time jobs open so I could fill in. I wasn't gonna keep asking Tony for cash 'cause I can't pay back. And plus, it'll give me some extra money to spend on what I want, not that there was anything interesting here.

I missed New York. I missed my people back there. I hated this boring old town. Stupid Tulsa. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

With a sigh, I reached the gas station. The first time I saw was the sight of girls crowding around the counter. Their giggles were loud and fake.

I really hate girls like that. Girls that think they can get everything by just blinking an eye and doing something sexy. Girls that think they've got it all. Girls that just don't understand that not all guys are fools that falls for their stupid tricks. Girls that thinks they're perfect. When in reality, they're just humiliating their selves. If you want a guy to like you, than do it right and don't just stand around and giggle your cute little butts off. Girls like them made me ashamed of being a female. I wasn't like that and don't plan on being like them.

I slightly rolled my eyes and tried to push my way through so I could actually buy something, unlike these flirts. Instead, I received harsh glares from the girls. Well, well. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I irritably cleared my throat loudly to get their attention, but only a few of them turned to look. "Wait your turn, you stupid greaser." I heard one of them whisper.

That made me mad. Greaser? What was that, some kind of insult?

But it was my first day here. I was too tired to argue with them. I walked out and went through from the back. I'll just sneak in from the back door. I told Tony I'd get him the cigarettes. He wouldn't be too happy if I came home unhanded while my excuse is 'too crowded'.

And so I did.

The light was pretty dim and there were many counters with car parts on them. It must be the supplies room. It kinda gave me the creeps. I wasn't the biggest fan of dark places. It wasn't called being a coward. I just didn't like it. I remember getting lost in a hospital at night. I guess that's how it started. Now if I just went through that door…

"Are you lost, girlie?"

A voice stopped me and I spun around to see who it was. There were two guys. One was a tall and lean kid about my age, dressed in a pair of dirty jeans and a white tank top with stains on them. He must be a worker or something. He didn't look too sharp though. He was chomping on a candy bar and a bottle of Pepsi was in his hand. He shoved on a cap on his greasy hair. Behind him was a kid with side-burns and a wide grin. He was wearing jeans and a Mickey Mouse shirt. He, too, was drinking Pepsi.

I felt a bit weird just standing there, so I finally said something. "No."

"Are you a soc?"

And there goes the name-calling. I didn't tolerate disrespect, and by the way he said 'soc' didn't exactly go under the impression that it was a good thing to be called.

"I'ma girl. Not a soc, not a greaser." I snapped.

I don't like insults. I really don't. Back in New York, nobody messed with me. It was not only because Tony was my older brother. I could handle fights myself. But I had a reputation for being pretty tough, for a girl. I've been in knife fights, and gotten scars from them too. I'm not scared of much. New York hardened me. Hardened Tony too. I remember the first time I got jumped. I was eight years old, and was coming home from a friend's house. I used to wear dresses and laces back then. Anyways, it was a group of middle school kids, and I don't know. They just ganged up on me. I fought back as hard as I can but I ended up going home with a black eye. My mom didn't care much but Tony looked really pissed. I think he felt guilty about it 'cause he wasn't there to protect me. I forgive him. He can't be perfect.

"You dress like a greaser." The one in the side-burns added, and I could feel my face flushing.

Did he just make fun of the way I dress? Sure, I didn't wear fashionable stuff, but it wasn't my fault. I can't afford those kinds of things. I looked down at myself and examined myself for the first time in a long time. I was wearing shorts which revealed my long legs, and a pair of black boots. I had on a black leather jacket and a loose tank top underneath. My hair was in two loose braids which hung down below my breasts. A dog tag chain was wrapped around my neck with my initials – TB. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how much of a hood I looked like. I never really paid attention to what I wore.

He must have realized the slight hurt in my expression because he quickly added. "It ain't a bad thing! You've got a pretty face. And besides, we're greasers too."

Before I was able to reply, the tall guy walked over to me. "What are you doing back here?"

"I couldn't get through to the counter. Why are there so many girls? Is there some movie star that works here or something?"

They laughed but I was serious. I didn't understand the crowd. What was so special about this gas station? It seemed like any other gas station to me if it weren't for the girls.

"You're pretty damn close. Here, I'll get rid of the girls so you can buy your stuff. They never buy shit anyway."

I followed the two back into the store, and watched as the guy started yelling at the girls to leave. I smiled at the sound of their groans and frowns as they were literally forced out of the store. Once they were gone, the store was much emptier and quieter. And then I saw what the whole fuss was about it. It was a guy.

He wasn't just any guy; he was really cute. He was the kind of guy that'll appear in movies, kinda like a Hollywood actor or something. He had dark-gold hair which was combed back with tons of hair grease. He reminded me of a model; maybe it was his sensitive figure. But you know how most handsome guys are usually dicks? I couldn't sense that in this guy. He seemed natural. He seemed fresh. He was dressed in a blue flannel and a white tank top.

He seemed a bit relieved when all the girls left, as if he was able to breathe again. He grinned at us as we headed over.

"Hey, Two-Bit. When'd ya get here?" He said, as he playfully punched the guy with the side-burns.

"A few minutes ago. We found a lost kitten." He joked and pushed me out to the front. Honestly, I didn't know why they were even talking to me. They didn't even know my name. Didn't they find it awkward or anything?

The handsome one turned towards me and smiled. "Hey, I've never seen you around. Are ya new?"

I nodded. "I just moved here from New York."

The tall one hopped onto the counter and sat down, but his expression looked surprised. "Wild side New York?"

Side-burns whooped out and gave out a loud laugh. "We've got a hellcat here!"

"I'm Steve," The tall one said with a grin.

"And I'm Two-Bit!" Side-burns called out.

"I'm Sodapop," The handsome one finally said with a warm smile. "Welcome to the neighborhood."

I was actually surprised at how kindly they treated me. I could tell they already considered me as one of them, a greaser, because they seemed to dislike the socs.

"I'm Trish."

They all smiled at me and before I realized it, I was too.

"Greasers are the kids who live on the East Side." Sodapop explained. "We get treated poorly 'cause we're not rich and we get in trouble with the fuzz."

Two-Bit piped in too. "And Socs are stinkin' rich kids who live on the West. They got everything nice."

So I found out that this town had a whole rivalry going on between the greasers and the socs. They both treated each other like dirt.

I chatted with the three for a while. It was nice to have some people that greeted me nicely on my first day. And plus, I could relate to them. They reminded me of my buddies back at home, except nicer. Soda lived with his older and younger brother, and lost his parents in an accident. He was a High School dropout, like me. He and Steve worked at the DX to gain some money. Two-Bit was a wisecracker and a bum, according to them. He was a happy person in general.

I suddenly remembered Tony and quickly bought the cigarettes. "I'd better get home before my brother busts my head in for being so late with his packs."

"Sounds like a charmer," Two-Bit said sarcastically, and I nodded with a smile.

I said bye to the boys and headed on home.

Maybe Tulsa wasn't so bad after all.