A/N: Thanks SO much for the reviews you guys, it really helps! Here's a long chapter to make up for that short one. Sorry this took so long, it's just that the weekend is the only time I can get on the computer and write this.

Chapter 3

*Ashley's P.O.V.* [I think I'm going to stop putting that there because my story will always be in Ashley's p.o.v. unless it says otherwise]

Something woke me up.

At first I didn't know what it was but then realized it wasn't a something. It was a someone. It may have been several people, but my ears were still ringing and I couldn't tell.

I wondered if I should open my eyes. I mean, what if these people were Socs? Maybe they were trying to kill me.

I am so paranoid.

If they were Socs that were trying to kill you, they would have done it by now, stupid.

"Can you hear me?" asked an unfamiliar voice.

At least I think that's what he said...

"Yeah" I replied. My throat was real itchy and dry.

I opened my eyes and saw three guys kneeling around me. All of them were greasers. Two of them looked quite a bit like each other. I half-recognized the one kid. He was a freshman, like me. And I've seen the other two around. Or maybe I was hallucinating.

"Uh, who are you?" I asked the one kid that was closest to me.

"Sodapop Curtis" He replied, casually.

Cool name. Never heard of him.

My left arm hurt. I looked at it and found a jacket wrapped around it. With a blood stain on it.

"What happened to me?" I asked, sounding really stupid.

"Some idiot Soc stabbed you" said Sodapop. "Nice choice of words towards him, by the way" he added, grinning.

If I had been the friendly talkative type, I would have grinned back because something about his grin was really contagious. But my mouth stayed in its usual blank expression.

"Think you can walk? We can bring you to my house and fix ya up." he asked.

The two other guys were kind of staring at me. It really creeped me out. I wish they would stop.

"Yeah probly. Wait... what's wrong with me?" I asked.

"Hate to tell ya this, but you don't look that great." he said.

Well thank you, Captain Obvious.

I tried to get up.

"Need some help there?" asked the kid that looked like Sodapop.

I hated asking for help. I'm independent.

Oh shut up, Ashley.

"Yeah, I guess"

The kid and Sodapop pretty much lifted me off the ground.

I was instantly dizzy and felt like throwing up.

Sodapop put his arm around my waist to help me walk. I put mine (The un- wounded one) around his neck. Not like I had much choice.

This felt really annoyingly uncomfortable. I hate being close to people like this. Especially guys. The fact that they're greasers didn't change anything.

"My house is just a few blocks down this way." said Sodapop, pointing to my left.

"Oh" I said.

Is that all you can say, Ash?

Sodapop and I walked before the others. It still felt uncomfortable being in the position I was in. But I doubted that I would stay standing if I told him to let go. So basically I was stuck.

The silence was quite awkward. I mean I like silence and all, but this silence didn't feel right. Sodapop seemed like a person who liked to talk. And I kind of wanted to talk to him too. The words just don't come out right when I try to say them. So once again I kept my mouth shut.

"You never told me your name" said Sodapop.

"Ashley Cameron" I said dully.

"Never seen you around before, Ashley" he said, obviously trying to start a conversation. "You live here?"

"Sort of" I said, staring at my feet.

"Aha. You go to school?"

"I'm a freshman."

"Where do you live?"

"Nowhere"

He had a puzzled look on his face. Why was he asking so many questions anyway?

"My mom died, so I moved into my dad's house. Then he died too, just last night" I began to get kind of pissed off, I don't know why. "Any other questions?" I asked angrily.

"I'm sorry." He said.

"For what?"

"About your parents. I know how you feel."

"Oh yeah?"

"My parents died almost eight months ago"

"Oh."

I felt like such an idiot I wanted to slap myself on the face. But I couldn't because one arm was injured and the other around Sodapop's neck.

We walked for what seemed a really long time. Probably cause my arm hurt and my legs were wobbly. And I was tired and hungry. And I was uncomfortable. And I was... you get the idea.

"It's just a couple houses down" said Sodapop, breaking the silence I drowned myself in.

"Uh... okay" I couldn't find anything better to say.

I looked behind me and saw the other two guys walking slowly. They were greasers, all right. No one could miss the torn jeans, slouching postures, and of course the greasy hair.

I was never into following the greaser girl look. I didn't wear slut make up and I hated those short skirts.

I think I've got a really unique look. I've got light brown hair that's pretty straight and it goes down to my shoulders. It's quite thick. I put a few jet-black highlights in it. No clue why.

My wardrobe consists of mostly black things, other than my torn blue jeans, which I have several pairs of. I like black. I think it matches my personality.

I'm not too much for wearing make up, but I do insist on having my black eyeliner. I think it makes my eyes more deep-looking.

There's only one part of me that doesn't match the rest. My eyes. They are ocean blue and really big. I was born with puppy eyes. I've been told that they're pretty, but I don't like them just the same. My eyes can sometimes tell my emotions, and I like to keep them secret, so it scares me. That's why I always wear dark eyeliner.

So that's me.

"Here we are" Sodapop's voice broke the silence again.

We arrived at a regular greaser-type house.

Sodapop and I walked up the front porch slowly, and then he opened the door and we both walked in.

For some crazy reason, this place reminded me of home.

Did that mean something...?

A/N: Not much of a cliffhanger... oh well.