Disclaimer: This is another story of mine involving our favorite greasers! In this chapter it reflects mostly on Two-Bit and Dally…I think they're my favorites b/c I always involve them in my stories! LOL! Please review! It's so much fun knowing people actually read and like my stories…THANKS! Yes…anyway….I only own Holly Carson and her mother….And I think that's all I need to say right now. Bye!

**UPDATED**AHA! I forgot to mention Parker, Gary, the stupid Soc, Mary and Brent are also mine! Mwahahaha…also Holly's switchblade if we're getting into exact details…and I believe that is it. Bye!

Chapter 1      

"Hey Dally! Wait up for me!" I yelled, running over to one of my best friends. One in seven, actually. My seven best friends were the kids I grew up with. I've known them all my life. Their names were Darry Curtis, the father of the group; Sodapop Curtis, the boy who brightens up everyone's day; Ponyboy Curtis, the smart one (even though he's the youngest); Steve Randle, Soda's best friend and the guy with the shortest temper; Johnny Cade, the quiet one; Dallas Winston, the tough hood and Two-Bit Mathews, the wisecracker. I'm also friends with the Shepard family: Tim, an even bigger hood than Dallas, Angela, the beautiful greaser, and Curly, a miniature Tim.

            Dally stopped and waited for me. I caught up to him and we started to walk. "Where ya headed?" I asked, smoothing out my shoulder-length black hair. It got all messy and tangled when I ran.

            "Curtis'," Dally answered, lighting up a cigarette.

            "You're going to get lung cancer when you're twenty-one," I scolded, taking the cigarette from his lips and throwing it on the pavement. I was the only one who could do that to Dally; if, say, Steve took a cigarette from Dally's mouth, Dallas would pound him in seconds flat.

            Before I could grind the cigarette with my sneaker, Dally shot down and picked it up. He stuffed it against his lips and gave me a grin.

            "Ew! Gross!" I winced, "I saw a dog pee there yesterday!"

            Dallas' grin faded instantly as he spat out the cigarette. "Are you serious?" He shouted, staring at the cigarette. I obviously wasn't, he decided, when he saw me laughing hysterically.

            "Ooh, you're going to get it, Carson!" he yelled, and I started running towards Darry's house which was less than twenty yards away.

            I yanked open the door and collapsed on the couch. Luckily no one was sitting on it at the time. Dally came thundering in a second later and jumped on top of me. "You're going to wish you were never born!"

            I screeched. He was tickling my ribs with incredible force. "Uncle!" I half gasped, half screamed, "I give up! Stop Dally!"

            "Hey, why don't you two get a room?" I heard a voice from the kitchen. Dally stopped tickling me and we both stared off towards the kitchen area. Two-Bit was leaning against the doorframe, holding a bottle of beer and grinning his thousand-watt smile.

            Dally cursed at Two-Bit, which only made him grin wider. "Fine, if you don't want a room with her, I'll take it." He gave me a slow wink.

            "Aw, shut up Two-Bit!" I laughed, and Dally got up. He pulled me up too and sat down on Darry's chair. Since it was early morning, Darry would be at work. Today was Sunday, so Ponyboy, Johnny, Steve, Two-Bit and I wouldn't be in school. Dally and Soda didn't go to school, even though Soda was sixteen and Dally was seventeen. Soda dropped out to help Darry with money after their parents died and Dally didn't want to go to school.
            "Beer for breakfast, Two-Bit?" I asked, walking past him.

            "As always," was his answer.

            Suddenly he swooped me up in his arms and kissed me hard. We were interrupted when a voice groaned and said, "Dude, nasty! That's a two-year difference for you guys!"

            Two-Bit pulled away, grinning, and let go of me. Soda and Ponyboy were smirking by the fridge. "That's like, me kissing Ponyboy!"

            We all laughed at Pony's expression, which looked like one of sheer horror.

            I walked back into the family room. "Hey, you guys, I'll be right back. I gotta go back home and make sure my mom knows I'm still alive. You guys going anywhere?"

            Dally said he might go to the Shepard's later, Two-Bit said he had to baby-sit his sister Madison in an hour, and Soda and Ponyboy were staying home. I ran out the door and continued along the sidewalk.

            If I was with one of the guys, we would just walk to my house, but when I'm alone I don't like to risk it. Some Soc guys like to prowl the streets and beat up desolate greasers.

            Lucky for me, I didn't see one blue mustang the mile run I took. I arrived at my house, barely tired, and opened the door. My mom was sitting at the kitchen table, wearing her eyeglasses and looking and various envelopes. Bills, no doubt.

            "Hey, mom," I said, and slammed the door behind me.

            She looked up. "Oh, hello Holly. How was Mary's house?"

            "Fine." I replied. Mary was one of my friends from school. She was middle-class. Not greaser, not Soc. We hit it off really well in math class when we were the only two people laughing when Sherri Valance answered a question way off. I mean, wow, where did she learn her math skills? The answer was as obvious as one plus one, and she guessed forty-two.

            Actually, Mary's house sucked big time because the whole time we were talking with her boyfriend Brent. And Mary was trying to hook me up with Brent's best friend Parker, who was really cute and everything, but…I don't know…I guess he wasn't my type. I made the best of it, though. I usually always do.

            "Is it ok if I spend the day at Soda's house?"

            "Who'll be there? The whole gang?"

            That's the cool thing about my mom. She understands everything I go through and doesn't ever interfere. She's an awesome parent, and she's taught me everything, so she doesn't have too. She knows that I have a good head on my shoulders, and when things get ugly, I know the right thing to do.

            "Yup," I answered, "We might go over to Shepard's later too."

            "Oh, Angela's brother? Such a nice boy he is."

            I almost laughed out loud. I had brought Tim over for dinner once and he behaved like a perfect gentleman. I had threatened him otherwise; my mother's biggest pet peeve was rudeness. He was mostly quiet, not used to being nice, but in the end he got comfortable. He even had an intelligent conversation with my mother! I was tempted to tape the whole thing, but Tim would probably squash me like a bug. He made me swear I wouldn't tell anyone he was polite; he said it would damage his reputation.

            "Yeah…well I just stopped by to let you know and I was wondering…"

            "…if I picked up your switchblade?" my mom asked innocently.

            I grinned and held out my hand. In it my mother placed my most prized possession-a blue handled switchblade. It was made out of marble and the knife was sharp-this switchblade was perfect. My father bought it for me…before…

            "Thanks mom!" I said hastily, throwing old memories aside, "I'm going to go now. See you later!"

            I ran out the door and came face to face with Parker. "Hey, Holly," he said, almost shyly, "What's going on?"

            I studied him closely. He was wearing loose fitting khaki colored pants and a black t-shirt with a blue flannel jacket over it. His black hair was spiked up and his hands were dug inside of his pockets.

            "Not much. I was just heading over to my best friend's house," I replied, looking over my shoulder for oncoming Socs.

            "Oh," I swear he sounded like he just heard the news Christmas was cancelled, "I thought maybe we could, you know, go to the movies or something."

            "Well, maybe in a couple hours," I offered, "I really need to talk to my friend."

            "Who is your best friend?" he asked quietly. Gosh, was he always this shy?

            "Umm, well actually I have seven," I laughed, and so did he.

            "Anyone I know?"

            I cocked my jaw to one side. Parker was almost eighteen, so maybe he knew Steve or Two-Bit. I asked him and he went sort of pale.

            "Oh," he said in that same Christmas loss voice, "Keith Mathews?"

            "Yeah, but don't ever call him that. He hates his name."

            "I heard that he had a thing for you," Parker said jealously, scratching the back of his neck and looking away.

            I froze. "Who told you that?"

            Parker shrugged. "Brent. He overheard some of the greasers talking." (Parker and Brent were middle class)

            "Oh," I said, feeling my cheeks redden, "Um, Parker, can I call you later or something?"

            He instantly brightened. "Yeah, sure. See you around."

            Feeling guilty for some reason, I went up to Parker and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Without seeing his reaction, I hastily started to walk back to Soda's house.

            Why did I kiss him just then? I asked myself, I don't even have feelings for him!

            Just then I heard the unmistakable roar of an engine and the obvious chatter of drunk, male Socs.