Disclaimer : I do not own the Outsiders, or any films mentioned in this chapter.

Second chapter in under 24 hours...woot.

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I have a crush.

Whats wrong with that?

I'll tell you what's wrong with that.

I got a crush on a Beatles listening, mustang driving, Blond haired, blue eyed, plaid skirt wearing, large chested, cheerleading Soc. She was beautiful. And I don't mean beautiful like, pretty face, great person, big heart, no. She was drop dead gorgeous. I feel slightly disgusted with myself, because I don't know anything about her other than her name, and how good she looks. It's so shallow. I don't even think we have anything in common. Not like Cherry Valance. I used to have a crush on her, but she made it quite clear that we wouldn't be more than friends...mutual aquatints. She didn't even talk to me in the school hall way.

She was the same kind of beautiful that Soda was. If this was movie, or some type of fictional romance novel, She'd be the smart, shy, kind rich girl, who'd fall for Sodapop, the hoodlum with the heart of gold. Except she wasn't shy or kind. She was a total bitch and dumb as a post. I wouldn't be surprised if her vagina was lined with razor sharp teeth.

Okay, maybe it wasn't a crush so much as a physical attraction. Sexual attraction.

I saw her walking out of a coffee shop with her jock boyfriend. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her until they got into a car and drove off.

Soda told me it would happen. That'd I'd start noticing girls more. He was right. Problem is I'm noticing the wrong type of girls.I figured that need to find the right type of girl. So I figured the right type of girl for me would probably be at the library.

I'm mean, why not? It's summer, I'm young. A summer romance doesn't sound to bad.

Of course by the time I got to the library, my summer romance was already leaving. At least, I hoped it would be her.

She had short light brown hair and a yellow sundress with white floral patterns on it. She was short, skinny, slightly pale and didn't have much of a figure.But I always liked girls in yellow. She also had a book in her hand. She was too far away for me to really see anything else and she was walking in the opposite direction. I followed her. Which, in hindsight, is kind of creepy. And I didn't know where she was going, ergo, I didn't know where I was going.

I ended up infront a old movie house. She went in, and I stayed outside. The sign in a window stated that they were showing a number of Avant-garde movies, then listed them as:

Salvador Dali's Un chien andalou(1929) 16min. France

Maya Deren and Alexander Hammid's Meshes of the Afternoon(1943) 14min. America

James Sibley Watson and Melville Webber's The Fall of the House of Usher (1928) 13min. America

Andy Warhol's Blow Job(1964) 35min. America

Alejandro Jodorowsky's , Les têtes interverties (1957) 20min. France

So, she enjoyed art as well as literature. Bonus. That meant the possibility of intelligent conversation. I really hoped she like Shakespeare.

I checked my pockets to make sure I had the buck fifty to get in. I did. I started to go in, when I heard a female voice call my name. I suppressed a groan. I knew that voice. It was Angela Shepard.

"What'ja doin?" She asked, stepping up beside me. I notice she had a milkshake, which she was sipping daintily.

"Uh...I...uh..I was going in to watch a few films..." I gestured to the theatre

"Sounds fun," She said, linking arms with me.

"Uh...oh...you wouldn't like them...they're all ava- " I figured she wouldn't exactly know what 'Avant-garde' was, so I simplified it a little for her, "experimental...silent...art films."

"I love that stuff."

She didn't. I knew it. She knew that I liked it. And, for some reason beyond my comprehension, she liked me. Now, Angela was a beautiful girl. She wore short skirts and tight tops and high heels and lots of make up. But she wasn't what I was looking for.

So she came with me into the theatre. We got seats in a middle row. I noticed the girl in the sundress. She was sitting a few rows infront of us. There were at least a dozen other people there..with the intent of watching the films. There was several couples in the back rows looking for a cool dark place to make out.

I kept looking over at the girl until the first film started. Angela made an annoying squeal sound and covered her eyes. " Oh my God, Ponyboy, what the hell is he doing?"

"What?"

"He's cutting her eye!"

"No..he's not..it just looks like it.."

"Oh..." She said, and lowered her hands.

"It's actually a cow's eye." I told her.

She squealed again and covered her eyes. I told her when the scene was over, but she didn't watch the rest of the 16 minute film.

She didn't watch much of the second one either, telling me it was disturbing.

She decided to talk to me though the whole third film, and I was starting to get annoyed.

During the Andy Warhol film, she stated, " I don't get it."

The title seemed pretty self explanatory. " Don't get what?"

"Why is the camera just on his face?"

"I'm guessing Warhol wanted to get the facial expressions and emotions of the man." Was my interpretation.

"Why? What's happening to him?"

"...someone's giving him fellatio off screen."

I looked over at her. She look alittle confused, " What's fellatio?"

Oh, I'm sure you know all about it, Angela. " Someone's going down on him, Angela."

"Oh." surprised "Oh" confused "Oh." calm " Oh!" Disgusted. " Why would someone film this?"

"I do not know. It's Andy Warhol. He doesn't need a rationalize what he does."

"Oh.." Pause, " Is this the whole movie?"

"Yes."

"Oh...ew..."

I rolled my eyes, but she doesn't see it.

During the last film, which was quite humorous at times, Angela seemed to get the humor. But she laughed only after I started to laugh.

Afterwards, when we were leaving, I noticed the girl and several other of the people from the theatre talking infront of the entrance. I slipped away from Angela and joined them. We discussed the symbolism and deeper meanings. We each gave our interpretations. I didn't get her name. No one actually introduced themselves. But I now know her eyes are a pale sort of green and she has freckles.

It was going pretty good until Angela found me. She joined the little circle, putting an arm around my waist and pushed up against me like we were a couple or something. Someone in the group asked her what she thought of the films, she said gross and boring. No, she said more like, " It was, like, totally gross, and Boooor-ing." Then she said, "Come on, Ponyboy, Let's go some place cool," then she dragged me away.

Talk about embarrassing.

She said it was one of the worst dates she's been on. I told her it wasn't really a date. As we walked down the street, I looked over my shoulder, and noticed the girl in the sundress cross the street and then headed off in the opposite direction, she was reading the book she had gotten from the library.

I don't usually curse. But..

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck

Fuck.

Did I mention fuck?

I looked over at Angela, who was babbling about something I didn't really care about. It was sometime around noon. And I really didn't want to spend my afternoon with Angel. We went into a store. While she was looking around and snuck out of the store and ran in the direction of the theatre. I stopped outside of it. I was fully intent on looking for the girl. But my stomach growled, so I decided that I'd get something to eat, first.

So I headed to the Dingo.

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I don't know why I'm spreading his day out into mulitple chapters. But it's seemed to be working.

And the whole 'Teeth lining the vagina' thing, he's calling her a harpey, basicly.