A/N: I got the idea after listening to Adele's "Don't You Remember" and "One and Only". I love her voice and her songs, and I tried to capture the mood of the songs in this story. This pairing, although unusual, is one that has been floating around in my mind for a while. Just a drabble/ one-shot I own nothing.
They had nothing in common. Not at first anyway. They were always unevenly matched; always fighting for control over everything in their relationship. From day one, everything was a game of cat and mouse. He chased her, even when she was dating someone else. In return, she chased him as soon as she saw him around town with another girl. It wasn't until he grew tired of the game that Sylvia started coming around Dallas. Although he scoffed at her and denied any anger, she knew that it bothered the hell out of him. And she loved it. It wasn't easy to get Darry's attention, especially when she was supposed to be his little secret, but getting it made her feel official somehow—almost as if she was his actual girlfriend, and whatever random cheerleader he had hanging off of his arm that week was the real whore.
Sylvia hated those cheerleaders. She hated their laughs, their lack of make-up, and their effortless way of getting Darry to publicly claim them. Sylvia knew that Darry would always come back to her in the end, after all Darry had nothing in common with those socy cheerleaders and the popular crowd. How could he, when they were so perfectly matched in their kisses? Kisses that were rough, sweet, and full of the rush that comes along with a secret affair.
Sylvia lived for those kisses and stolen moments, and a small part of her still does. Darry's kisses were nothing like Dallas'; they were safe. Darry was safe, and he made her feel safe in her chaotic world. She wouldn't, couldn't give that up easily, and she hated Darry's parents—or rather his mother—for attempting to take him away from her. Sylvia was never good enough for her; Mrs. Curtis wanted a daughter, but Sylvia would never be that daughter, and if Darry's behavior had been any indication, he agreed.
Mrs. Curtis had encouraged Darry to date those girls and go out of state to play football on a scholarship. Looking back on it, Sylvia realized that Mrs. Curtis had been aware of their rendezvous in her garden in the backyard, and in Mr. Curtis' car, and in the lot, and behind the dumpster after football practice. Nevertheless, Sylvia couldn't bring herself to care, even if Darry's parents were dead now.
And so she would torture him, incite him, and, hopefully, excite him. She longed for the games of cat and mouse and to look into his eyes. She wanted his kisses, his touches, and his secretive glances. She wanted the notes, written in their own love code, telling her to meet him after midnight in the lot to go get Cokes at the Dingo. She wanted to cuddle in the booth hidden in the back of the dirty diner, all the while holding his hand underneath the table as their waitress flirted with him. And she would do anything to have these moments again, even if it meant stringing Dallas along. Being close to Darry had become a necessity; and Dally was the only way that she could do it.
These thoughts occupied her mind, reaching a cacophony whenever she saw him drive past her window, or walk when his father's truck was broken, on his way to work. Whenever she saw him she would clutch the MVP medal that he had given her and dream of the day when she would be with him again. She would not rest until she was with him again, because even though they had nothing in common at first, it was in their kisses and their love where they were perfectly matched. And that was all that mattered.