A/N: I read the outsiders in class and this thought kept nagging me: What
was life like on the west side? So i used the character Bob to convey this
ever-present question. Contains Language/violence. (Bear with me, I'm still
pretty new at this)
Enjoy!
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I was sitting in my sunroom reading when i heard the sound of a Corvair pull up into my driveway. I knew right away that it was Randy and he was probably going to invite me to jump some greasers.
Randy let himself in and came back to the sunroom where I was reading "C'mon! we gonna go jump some those grease-pits down on the east side!"
"Sure, why not?" I said placing the book Gone with the Wind on the coffee table. Why did I say this? I never liked fighting, but for some reason i said yes. Randy led me out the door and took my seat in the mustang next to Mike as he was admiring his switchblade.
" Why do you read so much?" asked mike "It's so boring. Why don't you just go see a movie?" he knew I was reading because I had left my glasses on.
After a few minutes of driving through the east side, we saw a kid walking alone from the movies. He must've heard us coming because he started to walk faster. He was very small, probably no older than 14. We finally pulled up next to him and the five of us got out and surrounded him.
"Hey Grease!" said mike in an overly friendly voice. "We're gonna do you a favor, Greaser. We're gonna cut all that long greasy hair off!" He pulled out a long switchblade. I almost felt bad for the kid.
"No!" said the kid starting to back up but it was to late. Randy and Mike were already on him. They pinned him to the ground instantly and he was struggling to free himself.
"How'd you like that haircut to begin just below the chin?" said Mike holding out his switchblade. The kid started flailing around calling for someone named Soda.
We heard some shouts coming from down at the corner and about five greasers came sprinting down the sidewalk toward us. We all stopped what we were doing and jumped back into our car and we pulled out of there as fast as we could.
Why did we run? I thought. Maybe it was just the sheer size of the one in the front that was charging toward us. I looked over at mike who was not as arrogant as he was before.
I was sitting in my sunroom reading when i heard the sound of a Corvair pull up into my driveway. I knew right away that it was Randy and he was probably going to invite me to jump some greasers.
Randy let himself in and came back to the sunroom where I was reading "C'mon! we gonna go jump some those grease-pits down on the east side!"
"Sure, why not?" I said placing the book Gone with the Wind on the coffee table. Why did I say this? I never liked fighting, but for some reason i said yes. Randy led me out the door and took my seat in the mustang next to Mike as he was admiring his switchblade.
" Why do you read so much?" asked mike "It's so boring. Why don't you just go see a movie?" he knew I was reading because I had left my glasses on.
After a few minutes of driving through the east side, we saw a kid walking alone from the movies. He must've heard us coming because he started to walk faster. He was very small, probably no older than 14. We finally pulled up next to him and the five of us got out and surrounded him.
"Hey Grease!" said mike in an overly friendly voice. "We're gonna do you a favor, Greaser. We're gonna cut all that long greasy hair off!" He pulled out a long switchblade. I almost felt bad for the kid.
"No!" said the kid starting to back up but it was to late. Randy and Mike were already on him. They pinned him to the ground instantly and he was struggling to free himself.
"How'd you like that haircut to begin just below the chin?" said Mike holding out his switchblade. The kid started flailing around calling for someone named Soda.
We heard some shouts coming from down at the corner and about five greasers came sprinting down the sidewalk toward us. We all stopped what we were doing and jumped back into our car and we pulled out of there as fast as we could.
Why did we run? I thought. Maybe it was just the sheer size of the one in the front that was charging toward us. I looked over at mike who was not as arrogant as he was before.