Everything had been so peaceful inside of my head – in the darkness and the numb. I couldn't feel anything and I wasn't sure I wanted to, I'd been knocked out several times before - that wasn't the issue, but I had never felt like this before. But then; I had never been choked into passing out ever either...

Close to it though, one time when I was thirteen my fifteen year old ex-boyfriend [current one at the time.] was real drunk and he came over when no one else was at home.

He pushed me up against the living room wall and started to put his hands around my throat, I remembered it like it was yesterday. I was cold towards it. Alex got kneed in the balls and punched in the nose before Curly came home and took him outside.

Alex never came 'round after that – I'm pretty sure he moved away from Tulsa. So I assumed our relationship was over – not that I cared, he sucked at being a boy friend and I sucked at caring. I mean he use to flirt with girls in front of me to piss me off and I just kind of stared unmoved at his actions.

But I wasn't the best girl friend in the world either, that was a different story for another time though. I never felt emotions the way people should feel them – at least I don't think I did. I feel anger all the time, anger is a good emotion to keep around, I guess I feel the other emotions too but not really.

Unwillingly and slowly the darkness became lighter and lighter into a redness, I'd zoned back in from where ever I had been.

The sun shining down against my face, I turned my head slowly, the aching reappeared, except it was all over my body, "Quit it..." I groaned feeling someone shaking me, at least I assumed someone was shaking me, unless I was moving myself without realizing it. "Leslie's alive!" A voice echoed through my head, making me squeeze my eyes tighter closed. "Shut up..." I murmured.

"Shoot, sorry kid." The voice I could finally make out clearly without a ringing in my ears spoke, fuck. I knew I had to open my eyes, I didn't want to but I knew I had to. Because if I didn't I'd look like a wussy.

Pealing them open, the sunlight hit directly and I closed them again groaning, "Ugh, fuck.". Trying again, I shifted my head, rolling onto my stomach, opening my eyes to stare at the pavement that was spattered with blood. "You okay?" Someone was touching my back and it made me tense for a minute – remembering the Socs that had been around however long ago. "Fine." I gritted my teeth, pushing my head up and over to see Steve.

I exhaled, "Steve." I tried to grin at the seventeen year old grease monkey. But even grinning was painful. Nothing I wasn't use to. I moved to push myself up, feeling Steve's hands on my shoulders keeping me up when I stumbled. "I'm good, I'm good." I pushed myself clear of him after a minute.

The sharp aching in my skull and the sore sensation every time I tried to swallow was the worst of my battle wounds, "Come sit down, Soda's getting the first aid kit." Steve brushed his arm around my shoulders, leading me into the dim gas station, sitting me down on an old chair.

I exhaled, bringing my hand to my face, rubbing it. Brushing some of my hair away from my face. "How bad do I look?" I wondered, looking up at Steve while absently pulling my jeans up over my legs and passed my knees, seeing them raw and skinned from landing on the pavement.

"Could be worse." I could tell it was bad when Steve was trying to tell me it could be worse. "Oh well, what can you do." I laughed musically, it didn't bother me – the wounds that was. It was the Socs who gave them to me that bothered me.

"Tough." Steve nodded, crossing his arms over his chest when he looked over me to Sodapop. Holding the white first aid kit.

"Okay, Sodapop?" Steve questioned him, I turned in the chair, ignoring the protesting feeling in my body. Looking up and down over Sodapop I could see his left eye was red going purple, dried blood was dripped down his chin, a cut on the centre of his lower lip and a long scratch on the side of his left arm. "Fine." Sodapop grinned but it was a weary grin.

"Glad you showed up when you did though." Sodapop nodded looking at Steve who looked awful thankful to. "Old man and I got into a fight." He shrugged his shoulder like it was nothing, like if he hadn't shown up Sodapop and I could've handled everything.

"No, not at all." I snickered but stopped, covering my face I coughed rough, "Prick, I'm going to make him suffer." I rubbed my throat, I could still feel Bob's hand against it, shaking it off. "Soon, we're gonna stomp ass!" Steve stomped his foot against the floor for kicks.

"Yes Steve, thanks for adding the stomp in there," I brought my foot down against the floor in a softer stomp mincing him, making him laugh. "Did you like that?" He asked stomping again and I nodded seriously. "Oh yes, very cool." I grabbed a band-aid from the first aid kit, standing up.

I pealed it from its package and stood up on my tip toes in front of Sodapop, carefully watching him, I could feel him staring at me with a 'what are you doing?' expression on his face. "And... There." I nodded after sticking the band aid against his forehead carefully. Making him smile. "Oh thanks." He laughed.

"I need a smoke, you've got no idea how badly, I do." I could feel my body craving the tobacco, fishing around between my jean pockets, pulling my pack out, surprised they hadn't been squished during the fight – if you could call it a fight.

Bringing the unfiltered cigarette to my lips, I could almost tasted the flavour of a new cigarette, bringing a wooden match across the wooden counter it lit, bringing it to my lips. I inhaled, shaking the match out.

The head rush the cigarette was giving me turned the sharp quick pain in the back of my head into a dull and short pain, flicking the ashes outside the gas station door, I kept to myself for awhile as Sodapop and Steve went back to work on the cars in for repair.

The day wore on without any more appearances from the Socs, I walked around the station a lot. Unable to keep completely still for long periods of time, walking into the bay of the garage attached to the side of the tiny store.

Pulling myself up onto the deep freezer filled with bags of ice and extra ice cream treats supply. The pain inside my body had subsided, Steve was arm deep inside the hood of a car and Sodapop was out back talking to Sandy his girl friend.

"What did you and the old man fight about today?" I felt myself asking before thinking turning and laying back against the freezer that sadly was not cold on the outside, turning my head to the right to watch Steve pause in his tinkering under the hood, turning his head to the side a large smudge of grease on his cheek.

"School." His voice was bitter like he was remembering the fight clearly, Steve's old man was kind of a bastard. They'd get along okay since Steve's mom took off a while ago with his little brother and sister but old Matthew Randle was a lazy bum who made his money on boot-legging to under aged Greasers and salvage car parts. Didn't attend school past grade five.

"Still aint to keen on you going back?" I asked but figured just as much, his dad wasn't to happy with the fact his son only worked part-time at a gas station while getting an education. He wasn't pleased about the education part at all. "Nupe." Steve's voice was cold.

Being Seventeen and managing to not fail any grades Steve was in the middle stage of his last year of High School. Passing Auto Shop with flying colours and getting by with the rest, he wasn't all there in the head, but he wasn't stupid neither.

"I don't see whats the big deal, I mean – he's not like he's paying for anything, better yet. He doesn't have to DO anything." I pointed out factually, still watching Steve who was nodding reaching across to a wrench.

"Big deal 'cause he aint gettin' extra money from me 'cause it aint the summer no more. Full time back to part time." His voice rough, putting the wrench down a little to hard causing a loud tinging nose when he stood up straight from being bent over.

Shrugging and moving my head to look at the metal rafters above me. "Your money anyways, not his." I yawned, feeling a bump on the back of my head pushing into the freezer, I ignored the pained feeling. Distantly you could make out Sodapop's voice and Sandy's.

Sandy was nice, usually... Sometimes she was a bitch too, especially to me. I don't think she liked that I was friends with her boyfriend or that I knew she was a two timing little tramp fucking around on Sodapop, even Steve knew it.

But we refused to tell Sodapop who deep down knew something wasn't right but chose not to bring it up. Eventually it would go down hill and I'd have no trouble jumping Sandy and putting her in her place afterwards.

",'Bout time to go, you still coming over?" Steve was leaning over a sink that was blackened from grease, soap making suds over his worked hands. "Yup." I turned over, sitting up and getting off the freezer. "Haven't seen ya'll in a while." I laughed.

"Ain't nothing gone and changed on you don't worry." Steve dried his hands with a clean rag, before walking over pulling the garage door closed and locking in with three different padlocks on the floor.

Laughing, I left the bay area looking outside to see if any cars were at the pumps, before turning the sign to 'closed.', kicking the wooden door stop away from the door letting it close, I turned the lock on it.

We'd always leave the station from the back door, I never really understood why, but we did. Sodapop never could explain why either, he said he does it because the people who use to work there did it and the people before them people. It turned into a habit.

"Bills out back, he's coming in to do the books." Sodapop came back in, he wore a white t-shirt under his mid-way buttoned up DX shirt now, I cocked my eyebrow and titled my head at his neck. "Had fun out back?" I suggested with a smirk.

His eyes going large, he froze on the spot before clearing his throat, his hands covering the sides of his neck that dawned lipstick smears. "Shut up." He said quickly, turning and disappearing into the washroom.

"Hahaha!" I laughed at him, Sodapop though you think would have a tad more class than that, did not. He was probably one of the least innocent people in that department, possibly worse then Dallas Winston.

"Hey Leslie." An older voice caught my attention from my laughing at Sodapop, turning my head I smiled. "Hi Bill!" I gave him a quick wave.

Bill was tall, dark and tough. He was older then he looked and he'd owned this DX Gas Station since what seemed like forever. "How're you?" He put down a stack of books, he'd tell you once and he'd tell you again. Hiring Sodapop and Steve was the best economical choices he'd ever made.

"Oh real good, you? How's the wife?" I felt Steve coming in from the bay standing behind me as he closed the door. "Great, great." Bill nodded while picking up a pencil. Putting his glasses on that he needed to wear all the time but refused to.

"We're gonna head out?" Steve more asked then told, the wall clock read six o'clock, luckily we still had some summer sun on our side and it wasn't that dark yet. "Mmm-hmm." Bill waved him off when Sodapop came from the washroom.

The three of us walked in a side-by-side position kicking a crushed can back and forth while talking and laughing. We'd not spoken a word about the Soc fight, especially to Bill. Who seemed to be in a good mood and no one wanted to spoil it.

"Awh, I can't wait to see all the gang again." I tried to sound mystical when I spoke. "Almost all of the gang." Sodapop corrected and I stared at him for a minute like I didn't understand but finally clicked in. Snapping my fingers to gesture like I'd remembered.

"Oh yeah, Dallas." I almost smacked myself in the forehead and Steve started to laugh so I naturally had to give him the middle finger before grinning.

Dallas – definitely the dictionary definition of a hood, was in the Cooler and he had been for nearly two and a half months, expected in for at least five months for assault with a weapon against a minor. Personally I didn't understand the charge because Dallas was a minor too, so why did the 'against a minor' have to be included?

"How do you forget about Dally?" Steve turned his head to me, we were all walking in the same brisk pace it seemed and I couldn't help but shrug.

"Because it's Dallas." - Or Dally, for what ever reason I couldn't take to the nickname Dally. I tended to call him Dallas through-out the years I'd known him.

And I had known him for three years, since I was twelve. He was fourteen, his old man and him moved down from New York, I hadn't heard much about him except he'd been jailed at the age of ten and got out a twelve, I didn't mean to but I crossed him when he was blazing angry and I thought for sure he was going to cuss me out and give me the beat down of my life. He tried, but Tim caught him by the back of his jacket and punched the daylights out of him before he had the chance... Ever since then Tim and Dallas had been real close friends, they were indeed two of a kind.

"I'm nervous, what if they don't like me anymore?" I tried to sound worried but I ended up getting strange looks from Sodapop and Steve when I laughed, walking up the steps of the Curtis house.

"Your dreams have all come true, I have arrived." I announced opening the screen door and walking into the living room where everyone seemed to turn and stare at me...