"I don't want you going," Darry said from the kitchen counter as I emerged from the bedroom that Ponyboy and I slept in. The room had been next to empty since Pony was still in the hospital, and I had been sleeping in my room to avoid being flooded with constant guilt that Pony wasn't there because of me. I only went in there because I had kept my clothes in that room, and I had to get ready for my date.

Looking in the round mirror hung in the hallway, I straightened the collar of my plaid overshirt (I didn't own many fancy clothes other than a tan suit, and that seemed a bit much for a movie date) and ran my hand over my hair. I had actually combed it, and it was already roused and stuck up in different angles. It almost looked better now than it did in its normal heavily-greased style.

When I looked from the mirror to my brother, his face was cross, and his heavily muscled arms were folded over his equally-heavily muscled chest.

"Why not?"

"She got your brother stabbed."

"It wasn't her fault, Darry, it was mine. I forgot to pick him up. It's not like she sent those Socs out to attack Pony."

Darry continued to glare at me with cold eyes, and the look was even colder than their ice-blue hue. I couldn't help but shiver a little.

"Something bad's gonna happen, Soda," Darry said, and he didn't take his eyes off me for even a second as I shuffled into the kitchen.

I picked at a bit of food that was left out on the counter a put it in my mouth. "Like what?"

"I don't know, but something will. She's nothin' but trouble, Sodapop!"

"You're just skeptical because she's a Soc, Dar."

"I'm skeptical because whenever she gets involved, somethin' bad happens. When she first came around, Johnny and Dallas got killed. Then you, me, and Pony almost got split. Now look, she smooches you and Pony got stabbed."

"We all had our hand in that, Darry," I told him, and turned my head to look at him. "None of that was her fault."

"You're not going, and that's that," Darry ordered.

"I'll be eighteen in a week, and you can't tell me what to do. I'm just as much of an adult as you are, and I can do whatever I want." I sniffed and grabbed my shoes from their spot by the door. "And that's that." I mockingly stomped my foot and placed my hand on the doorknob. "I'll be back before mornin', alright? Cherry's waitin' for me."

Cherry's mom gave me a nasty look when she answered the door, like I was some sort of disgusting, rotting dead animal left on her doormat.

"Hi. . ." I said slowly. To be honest, she was already giving me the creeps with that glare. She continued to press me with her disgusted look. I noticed that she had the same green eyes that Cherry did. They were calming and smooth as the sea. It made me grin like crazy. Then I realized it was awkward that I was staring intently into my girlfriend's mom's eyes, and that she was still glaring at me. She didn't say anything back, so I cleared my throat and continued.

"I'm, uh, Sodapop Curtis."

She stayed silent.

"I'm here to take Cherry to the movies. . ."

"I know who you are," Mrs. Valance said, "and I don't want you taking my daughter anywhere."

I thought the Greaser-Soc rivalry only existed between the teenagers. I always thought the parents turned a blind eye to the whole situation. Maybe they did, and Mrs. Valance was different. Cherry was different, too. Difference might be hereditary in this family.

I didn't know what to say, so I just stood there like an idiot. Two rejections in one night by two people that weren't the girl who could actually reject me. Great.

Cherry came down then, saving me the embarrassment of looking like an idiot for much longer.

Saying that she looked beautiful was an understatement. She always looked gorgeous, but tonight she looked as radiant as the sun. I probably only thought that because she looked like a greaser - just without an obscene amount of make-up. Cherry wore jeans that looked like they had taken more than one trip down a rock-covered cliff. There were holes tore in various places from her knees up. Pony's hoodie that I had given her at the fair was hung off her shoulders. Her long, dark red hair tumbled down her shoulders and back, swaying from side to side with every step she took. The simple clothing looked misplaced on such a high-class girl, but it looked expensive just because she was wearing it. It made me feel a bit better about my plaid pull-over and sneakers.

Mrs. Valance smiled while she watched Cherry bounce down the stairs, but her icy eyes made it obvious that her grin was only a facade. Her disapproval of me even suggesting to escort Cherry ten feet outside of the front door was obvious. I slowly began to lose hope that I was going to go anywhere with Cherry.

Mrs. Valance's smile faded as soon as it came.

"Cherry," Mrs. Valance said, "you have to be joking. I never thought you would even consider him." She said the word with venom, and looked me over quickly, as if she couldn't stand looking at me.

Cherry groaned. "For the millionth time, it's none of your business."

"He's involved with the boys who killed Bob."

"Mom."

"I don't want you being around him. You never know what those greasers are thinking."

"Mom, he's not - I mean, he's a - He's not going to hurt me."

I just stood there silently, listening to every word the two of them. I began to feel disheartened. I knew I was a no good, worthless hood - at least I was one in the eyes of a Soc - but hearing Cherry and her mom arguing about it in front of me only made me feel worse. I looked down at my sneakers and waited for them to finish.

"He will," Mrs. Valance snarled. Each word that escaped her lips hissed like poison.

"Mom," Cherry nearly shouted, "it's none of your business!" Her face was turning the same shade as her hair.

"I think I have a say of what happens to my daughter."

"You're the one always telling me to make my own decisions!"

"The situation regarding this boy doesn't count!"

"I'm not dealing with this anymore," Cherry growled, and pushed past her mom and I to get out the front door.

I looked at Mrs. Valance, trying to mask my anger and embarrassment with a sympathetic look.

"I'll bring her home before twelve," I promised, and turned on my heel to follow Cherry.

Everything was fine until we got to the Nightly Double. I didn't think anything would go wrong after we left Cherry's house, but of course, when you're a greaser like me, nothing ever goes the way you planned it. I can't say that I expected the date to go well, but I was hoping that maybe fate could cut me a break. Instead, it kept piling problems on top of me, one after another all night. It had been that way all week - all my life, actually.

It was close to eight when I parked the truck before the massive movie screen, and the sun that had been blazing light and heat all day was sinking behind the houses in the distance. The nearly empty lot where the movie was showing was colored a dark orange. There were a few cars parked, but not as many as there usually were when I would come here with Pony.

There was a small group of lanky teenagers across the lot, and I recognized them as Tim Shepard and his gang. I smiled slightly when I saw the lankiest person, who was the leader of the pack: Tim Shepard, From head to toe, he was covered in cheap leather, denim, and grease - Not just hair grease, though. Tim has always been and always will be the one of the greasiest hoods in Tulsa. Not to mention, I doubt he could remember the last time he had actually showed. So, he was metaphorically and literally covered in grease.

I felt like I should walk over there and talk with him. This past year, Tim and the rest of his family (gang) and his other family (actual family) had been becoming closer to what was left of my family (gang) and my other family (actual family). But I knew Cherry wasn't fond of juvenile delinquents, like Shepard or Dallas Winston, so I stayed seated in the car and figured that if Tim wanted to talk, he would come this way. He wasn't coming, but I could see him eyeing the truck. So, I stared back for a minute. I think that I won the staring contest that he didn't even know what occuring.

Tim was still looking at the truck when I turned to Cherry. She had been silent ever since we left her house. She was playing with a loose thread on her jeans. Her face was still glowing slightly, and I could feel the anger and embarrassment radiating from her body.

"You okay?" I asked her.

Cherry looked up and smiled slightly.

"Yeah," she answered quietly, and then looked back down at her legs.

"What your mom said didn't bother me," I said, and Cherry looked up again. She looked kind of like a heavy weight had been taken off her shoulders. I wasn't lying about not being bothered. Nothing Mrs. Valance said was new, although everytime I hear it I feel as if I'm being accused of some sort of crime. Everyone makes being poor sound like some sort of disease. They always hold rallies and fundraisers to help us, but no matter what measures people go to trying to help less fortunate people, we're always treated like scum. I've learned to get used to it.

Even though Cherry looked relieved, I could still tell something was bothering her.

"Tell me what's wrong," I pushed.

"Steve told me what Darry thinks about me, now," she sighed sadly.

"It was my fault, Cherry," I said. "What Darry says or thinks doesn't matter."

"I know. I didn't ask that Soc to jump Ponyboy, but if Darry thinks that I did cause it all to happen, then Two-Bit and Steve will be convinced, too. They follow Darry - everyone follows Darry. They're afraid they'd get their heads kicked in if they didn't agree with him."

"We all could have been responsible for what happened that night. I forgot Pony. That's my fault. Maybe those guys attacked Pony because he was with Courtney - Socs hate seeing greasers with other Socs. But right now, we need to focus on making sure Pony pulls out of this instead of dealing with the past. Darry just doesn't get that."

Cherry sighed again. "I guess you're right." I smiled at her.

"It's almost dark. The movie's gonna start soon. Let's focus on that, and try to enjoy this. Okay?"

Cherry nodded and we sat back. I reached over to her side of the truck and slipped her hand into mine.