"Yeah?" Johnny's old man said, and his voice was eerily like Johnny's. The same pitch. Somehow this spooked Dallas but he looked him square in the eye.
"You son of a bitch," Dallas said, and brought his fist back, the elbow high, and slammed it into his face. Johnny's old man staggered and fell back. He looked up at Dallas from the floor, surprise darkening to anger, and Dallas saw what Johnny usually saw. The angry mullish expression, gritted teeth. He started to get up and Dallas knocked him back, stood over him with a menacing look.
"That's a taste of your own fucking medicine," Dallas said.
Three days later Johnny was out of the hospital. He was waiting in the lobby for someone to show up, and Dal finally did.
"They let you out, huh?"
Johnny nodded, and took the cigarette Dally handed to him.
"Sure you should smoke?" Dal said, eyeing the cigarette critically. Johnny lit it and shrugged. Took a drag.
"Don't hurt none. Shit, I needed that cigarette,"
They headed out, and Dally watched him from the corner of his eye. Boyish but almost delicate at the same time, the androgyny of Johnny's looks drove Dally crazy. He had to bite his bottom lip to keep some of the desire off his face.
Johnny…
It was always like this, sooner or later. Sooner or later there was no where to go but home.
He'd been hanging out with Ponyboy, sitting on the porch and smoking, watching Soda and Steve play some mutated form of football that seemed to consist mostly of tackles.
"Ponyboy, you got homework," Darry said, sticking his head out the door and then going back in. Ponyboy rose obediently and headed for the door.
"Want to come in?" he said, and Johnny shrugged.
"Naw, I guess not,"
"Alright,"
So Pony went in and he stood up, feeling the bones in his spine stretch, feeling his dread of going home. But sometimes there wasn't anyplace else to go.
"Aw, fuck it," Johnny muttered under his breath, and noticed how dark the sky was getting. But it wasn't dark yet. He could still see the black outlines of trees and houses against the dark blue sky.
He started toward home, kicking at the little rocks on the sidewalk and the broken bits of glass. He stopped walking halfway between Ponyboy's house and his, took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He'd smoked most of it standing in the same spot and then he chucked it, watched the little spray of embers as it landed in the road.
He was nearly to his house when someone came from behind and grabbed him. Johnny spun around, eyes wide, breathing fast.
"Jesus Christ, Dallas! You trying to give me a heart attack or what? I just got out of the fucking hospital,"
"C'mon, Johnny, you're not thinking of going home, are you?"
Johnny ducked his head, looked up at Dallas from under his dark bangs.
"Yeah, maybe,"
"Well, I wouldn't if I was you," Dallas said, and grabbed Johnny's arm, pulled him off the sidewalk and behind a tree.
It was completely dark now. The street lights glowed orange, T.V.'s flickered blue light in people's living rooms.
"Okay, so just…" Dallas' voice was thicker, lower, and he moved closer to Johnny, "don't go home, okay?"
"Okay," Johnny said, but petulant, whiny, like a kid, that Dallas had to smile.
"Good," he said, and backed Johnny up against the tree, leaned toward him, kissed him hard.