By the time I make my way home I'm completely soaked to the bone, and have absolutely no clue what time it is. Home isn't exactly comforting, though, considering I live in an abandoned apartment on the fifth floor of a complex all by myself. The old residents were suicide jumpers, and nobody wants to buy the place now. Pleasant, is it not?

I convinced the landlord to let me stay without paying rent by making the building spotless on weekdays, and I try to school myself on the weekends. Wondering about my parents? They were the old residents. Let's just say I don't exactly have family members anymore. I try not to think about it.

I'm surprised when I hear a knock on the door, especially because it turns out to be 2:45 AM. I look out the small door window and see a drenched Two-Bit standing in the hallway. I quickly open the door and let him in.

"What are you doing here, Two-Bit? Do you know what time it is?"

"Don't you dare try to scare me away, I've been searching for you ever since the...'incident'. Fortunately, the rain washed out the effects of the alcohol." he says, looking around the place.

"How did you find me?" I demand.

"Wasn't that hard, considering you were running faster than Jesse Owens." he sits down after he completes his inspection.

"I didn't want you to come here."

"Look, I get you probably want to be alone, Pix, but-"

"That's not what I meant. I didn't want anyone to come here. It's not exactly a welcoming place." I sigh. "Sorry for stabbing your friend." he just shakes his head.

"I'm not sure friend is the right term to describe Dallas at the moment. He isn't always like that, I swear, Pixi." the way he talks makes me wonder wether he's trying to defend a member of the gang or mend my damaged feelings. Either way, I know I never want to see Dallas again. "Why didn't you tell me Darry was going to be that hot? I would've made myself look a little more presentable." I ask, trying to change the subject.

"I am a guy. You are a girl. While you may see Darry as hot, I just see him as a fellow guy. Besides, it didn't take much for a one to notice you." he grins, and I feel like smashing a vase over his head. I count to ten to calm myself down before I do something I'll regret.

"Did I kill the guy?"

"Nah. Just a dislocated shoulder."

"What?!"

"Kidding. He'll be fine. Just a couple of dent marks." Two-Bit assures me, and I somehow manage to feel even worse.

"Well, does he want to kill me?" I ask cautiously.

"Nope. He's just more convinced you want him to hit on you."

"perfect." I mutter.

"Pixi?"

"What?"

"Do you want him to hit on you?"

"KEITH!"

"Alright, I'm leaving. Take care, Sugar Crash." I quickly lock the door after he exits and spend the rest of the night wondering if what Two-Bit said might possibly be true.

The following morning I wake up with a killer headache. I guess that's what happens when you stab someone with a fork and then sprint for twelve miles in the rain. Karma really gets around, huh?

Usually, I spend a Saturday morning eating leftover cake in my pajamas from the diner, but since today is rainy, I sleep in and read books the whole morning. Later in the afternoon, I manage to drag myself out of bed to go find Two-Bit, wherever he may be. As I walk on the sidewalk, I close my eyes to the peaceful feeling of the wind blowing on my face. Unfortunately, the peace doesn't last long.

I spot the old Volkswagen out the corner of my eye and start to walk quicker. It's not smart for greasers to walk alone, because you're liable to get jumped by the Socs. The rich kids, who live on the other side of town. As the vehicle slows down and gets closer to me, I feel a sudden rise of panic. I hear the window roll down and pray there's an angel watching over me.

"Hey, baby, wanna go for a ride?" they were drunk, and there were probably six or seven guys piled up in the car. I act like I never heard them and keep walking with my eyes locked forward. Showing signs of fear never really goes over well. "HEY, YOU FILTH!! LISTEN TO ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU!!!!" I debate wether to run or to fire back insults. Fighting them off is out of the question, there's no way I could possibly win. Reluctantly, I shift my position so that I'm facing the car.

"Sorry boys, I've had one too many idiots try to hit on me this weekend. Go find something else to entertain you." the guy in the front seat swore at me, and the rest started laughing. I watch nervously as he slowly gets out of the car, and the others follow. I try to run, but someone grabs me and throws me to the floor. No fork to save me now. I feel someone kick my side, real hard, and I gasp for air. The main creep crouches in front of my face, and says,

"We don't like being polite to broads who think its smart to use their mouths for anything except kissing, you-" he curses at me. "You want to smart mouth us, fine, but we tend to play rough." I spit in his face, and I'm almost expecting a slap to come. It doesn't. Instead, I see a terrifying grin spread across his face.