How do I know Dallas Winston

How do I know Dallas Winston? I never thought I'd have to answer that after New York. But I guess things don't usually work out how you expected, huh?

So, I figured I'd finally answer. But just for Pony. I don't think I could tell anyone else about it, not Two-Bit or Steve or even Sodapop. Just Ponyboy…and probably Johnny. So, I told him, starting from the beginning.

I was fourteen going on fifteen and moved over there with my aunt Jess. She was on her first modeling gig and was just getting into the high class, hit and run life style. And apparently, that didn't include me. She pushed me out the door, with fifty bucks and expected me to figure the rest out for myself.

I spent the first week sleeping under a bridge and blew off forty bucks on food and a blade. Even if I was just a fourteen year old "good girl" that had never been on her own before, I knew being alone on the streets in New York with no sense of protection wasn't a smart move.

My second week…that's when I met him. No, not Dallas. His name was Austen Schwartz. He found me trying to pickup some "loose change" and BOOM, we were inseparable. I told him I was sixteen and ran away from my drunken parents in Connecticut. I still don't know if he truly bought it or not, but I guess it doesn't matter anymore.

He was nineteen, 5' 10", and had lived with his big brother, Sean, until Sean got busted for stealing a car and a hell lot of cash. He had long, twisted black hair that fell into his eyes and kicked out at the shoulder. His eyes were like two broken pieces of black glass that you could stare at forever and never find anything in them besides a tough, cold hatred and devious intensions. He smoked, drank, stole, gambled, got in fights, flirted too much, and wasn't afraid of anything. I don't know why I ever trusted him. I guess I've just assumed every girl needs one bad boy in her life to teach her how to live.

Dallas and Austen were buds, though. Sometimes it could be hard to find one without the other. Whenever one got in a fight, the other was right by his side. Dally was seventeen, but just as tough, and looked exactly the opposite. But, man, they had identical personalities. They were bad to the bone. Dally looked after me whenever Austen had something going on.

I moved into their small, cramped apartment, in the middle of the city and it smelled like piss and beer no matter how hard you tried to clean it. Dal would sometimes crash on the couch, and I shared the bed with Austen. I guess he was my boyfriend. I had a fair few before him and I had been somewhat in love before. But there was something about Austen that drew me to him like honey draws bees. He was always cool, calm, collected. He knew what to say all the time and always managed to be devilishly handsome. But he was a hood. He had a temper. If he wasn't taking me to parties, getting drunk, going out, or getting busy, he had to be yelling or fighting. He blew off steam in fights and when he was out, Dal stayed with me and when Austen got back, I was the one to take care of him. I never complained, though; I really didn't mind. And he never got too angry with me. He'd yell when he had something to drink, but he never hit me.

Dally never let me out of his sight. As far as he was concerned, I was just a kid and wasn't aloud to be left alone or act like the other girls they knew. I knew he knew I wasn't sixteen, but he never said anything 'bout it. When Austen was out, Dal stayed in the apartment, just me and him, a couple beers, and we'd watch a movie or walk around town. He didn't let his guard down, and wasn't afraid to mouth off or start a fight in front of me. He had a reputation to keep. But no guys, no drugs, no weapons were aloud near me. And he sure as hell hated it when Austen took advantage of me. We'd be at a party or something and Austen would start getting all touchy feely with me and end up going back to the apartment and Dal would give him the cold shoulder whenever he did it. But we all eventually got used to it. But then, after the first couple months, Dal started getting real stressed over me. The parties got a little wilder, the drinks got a little stronger, and the joints and drugs started floating around a lot more frequently. I've never been into any drugs. I've seen what they can do to people and they scare the shit out of me, honestly. But a little herb smoking won't hurt you right? Well, I guess back then I was doing a bit more then just a little. But Dal did everything he could to get me to stop. So I tried to refrain when he was around.

Then the day came. Something happened, and I still don't know what. But Dal and Austen got in a fight and before I could ask any questions, Dally was gone. Now, thinking about it, I guess he came to Tulsa. But Austen flipped after that. He was always drinking and coming home half drunk, half beat up, and a crazy, angry wreck.

Then there was the one the one night. The last night. He came home, acting stranger then usual and started yelling complete nonsense, and something about Dally. I was always used to the yelling, so that was no big deal. And I knew he was violent, but never with me. Until then, that is. He hit me. Over and over, until he wore himself out. I left as soon as I could. Packed a small bag, and headed out to find Jess. When I found her, she was a wreck, too, but I easily convinced her California was better for business and pills and her special herb then New York. She believed me, and we left. I haven't seen or spoken to Austin Schwartz ever since.