Chapter Two:
Dallas made it to the drive in just before the movie started, having no cash he'd had to climb under the rickety fence that lined the lot. Nothing he hadn't done before though, so no big deal. He found the greasers he hung out with sitting in two rows of plastic chairs, faces looking up at the screen. Sodapop had his arm around little Sandy and Ponyboy was whispering to Johnny about something concerning Steve Randall.
"Hey y'all," Dally plopped down in the seat beside Ponyboy as the kid stopped talking, blushed, and looked straight ahead.
"What the hell is the matter with you, Ponyboy?"
Johnny leaned forward and said, "Him and Steve had another fight. Said he didn't know why Pony always had to tag along, is all." Pony glanced at Dally, a sour look on his face.
"We were the ones that invited him, not the other way around."
"Ah, think nothing of it, Pony, Steve isn't so tuff. If you want I'll go tip over that new bike he bought last week."
They laughed, picturing Steve's face when his most prized possession was flipped into the dirt. Pony smiled finally and said, "Thanks Dal, I just don't know why he hates me so much."
Dally threw a friendly arm around the kid's shoulder and said, "You're Soda's kid brother, that's all he sees you as. It's okay, we all see him as a crooked mouth greaser anyway."
Ponyboy smiled.
"Where's Two-Bit at?"
"Popcorn, the guy's a pig, remember?"
"Oh yeah."
Sandy leaned back and shushed them and Soda gave them a dark look. Guess they were ruining their romantic movie date.
Dally settled in, wishing he had money for a Pepsi and all was well until Curly Shepard approached them with a couple of his goons. Soda glanced up to his right, and, being the closest, he waved a hello, "Hey Curly, what's goin' on?"
Curly was shaking, his arms all pumped up for a fight and his buddies looked the same.
Pony, Johnny and Sandy remained quiet and Dallas knew if it came to it it'd be Soda, Two-Bit and himself, if Two-Bit ever got back from the concession stand. Too bad Darry didn't take in the movies too often.
"I want to talk to Dallas." Curly's faded black leather jacket looked about three sizes too big for him, maybe one of Tim's that he'd outgrown.
Dally ran a hand through his hair and, trying to look tuff, he put his feet up on the seat in front of him, "What about, Shepard?"
"Tim called, asked if me or the gang slashed his tires...told him we had nothin' to do with it. Guess he knows it was you for some reason."
Dally smirked, yeah, Tim knows it was him. Dally also he knew he could take on these greasers, they weren't so tuff, "And?"
Curly's lip sneered as he said, "And, since he can't beat the tar outta you I'm going to."
It was at that moment that Two-Bit and Steve came back, Two-Bit elbowed his way through the Shepard gang, arms laden with candy and sodas.
"Hey, y'all, how's about quieten down so we can hear the movie?" If there was one thing Dally admired about Two-Bit and that was his never ending courage in the face of a rumble. The guy didn't care who he was fighting or where.
Curly looked around at all the Curtis gang and realized he was in way over his head. If a flight broke out the three Shepard members would get pummelled by Steve, Two-bit, Soda and of course, Dally.
Curly backed away but not before he spit out, "I'll get you later, Dallas Winston, you watch your back!"
Dallas laughed and said, "Get a life, Curly!"
The rest of the night went as planned, Steve sat by himself behind everyone, sulking, and Dallas got bored pretty quickly. When it was over Dally told everyone goodbye and decided he'd try for a free room at Bucks instead. It seemed that Johnny would be taking over the couch at the Curtis' and Dally wasn't mean enough to kick the kid out of it when he really had no where else to go.
After a round of "See ya later Dally," he zipped up his brown leather jacket and made sure his blade was tucked securely into his right boot. On the East Side even being as tuff as he was he wasn't dumb enough to walk around unarmed. Not only were there dishonest greasers to worry about, but hungry homeless men and carloads of drunken courageous socs roamed the streets on a Friday night.
For some reason as he scuffed his boots in the dust he couldn't get his mind off Tim. Dallas knew he was angry but he wasn't sure if it was because of the ex-gang leader's betrayal or about the fact that Tim was smart enough to dig himself out of this shit hole. Made something of himself, as it were. He was certain he could beat Tim in uniform just as good as out, but maybe not if he had backup.
"Fuck him," Dally cursed his old rival and decided he'd kick Tim's ass the next time he ran into him anyway, for old time's sake.