A/N: Hi guys! A special thanks goes out to GreaserGirlSodapop, Rosie. JustRosie, AlongTheBinding, and FireGoddess101 for the fabulous reviews, you guys are great! :) And to my favorites and follows, thank you guys too, y'all rock! And now, chapter three...
Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders. I love it, but I don't own it.
The now fifteen year old grabs his bag off the rest of the luggage, following his father down the unfamiliar city of Tulsa. Their new home sits at the end of a near deserted street, siding peeling and holes littering the screen door. He tosses his stuff inside the old house before taking to the town.
He reaches a large, empty lot almost instantly. The grass is clear past his ankles, weeds acting as flowers. Its there that he notices a fancy white T-Bird creeping along the street. He instinctively slouches back, New York teaching him well. He drops his cigarette butt, grounding it into the dirt. The car pulls up over the curb, a couple of guys in madras jackets stepping out. The leader of the group- a lanky panther-looking guy- makes the first move, stepping forward. The blonde's gaze is averted from the clenched fist as a thin frame tackles the panther down. A rusty-haired boy takes on another and the crystal eyes throw a few punches to the third.
After a while of fighting, the madras boys give up, fleeing back to their expensive car. The blonde headed boy smiles, sharp animal teeth shining in the light. The first guy- a brown-haired, brown-eyed fellow- introduces himself as Sodapop, the burly loud mouth- Two-Bit. Bidding them a quick farewell, the blue eyes start to make their way back to their own place. He flicks out a cigarette and lights up, greedily letting the nicotine relax his hidden nerves. He plays with his busted up knuckles, watching, fascinated as that one stormy night years ago, as the blood trickles down his hand.
Later that night, as he lay awake, memories from earlier flood his mind. He'd thought Tulsa would have a less 'watch your back' attitude than New York. But he was wrong. He'll just have to keep his guard up. Keep anything from touching him. If he doesn't care about anyone or anything, he can't get hurt. With the thought, his crystal eyes darken into a blue so deep it was made for royalty.