JC's P.O.V.

Well, Darry seems nice enough, I thought, entering the Curtis's house. The Curtis brothers didn't have parents, as theirs died in a car wreck nine months ago. It was sad, yes, but I couldn't help but feel jealous of them. My own mom (I hadn't seen my dad since I was six) had flipped when I told her that I was going down to Tulsa to live. I had given her the money for the place and she had rented it, as I was too young to. She seemed good about it, but she didn't believe that I actually wanted to clean up my act, and go to college too (I had dropped out of highschool, so I would have to do night school before going to college. I wanted to be a writer and maybe own a ranch with quarter horses and Mustangs someday.)

Steve introduced me to Darry's two little brothers, Sodapop and Ponyboy, and to their friend, Two-Bit Mathews. Darry, Sodapop and Ponyboy defiantly didn't look alike at all. Darry was tall, lean and muscular with light brown hair with a slight cowlick in the back. His eyes were like two pieces of cold, greenish ice and had a determined look to them. Sodapop always had a smile on his face and he looked like a movie star. His eyes were devilish, yet sweet and I figured that the ladies probably loved them (his eyes I mean.) He had golden, brown hair that was long, silky and straight and he was rather poised for a greaser.

Ponyboy defiantly looked different from his brothers. Pony's eyes were a soft greenish gray that made him look like he was in a different world then the rest. His hair was blond and his roots were a dark brown, so I figger' his hair was dyed blond that way. He had it heavily greased back and even though it did make his hair look tougher, he still looked like a square.

Two-Bit had long, rusty-colored sideburns and a comical grin on his face. On his shirt there was a picture of Mickey Mouse and he did seem the type to be a Mickey fan, a real wise-cracker, but Chewy had been that way too.

"I'm JC Winston." I said once the boys had been introduced. Normally I would've said that my name was JC Panther, but I had to remind myself that I wasn't a Panther anymore, so I'd have to use my real name, even though JC wasn't my real name. I had it legally changed by my mother two years ago. My mom always let me do what I wanted if it was legal for her to do for me, like changing my name, or renting an apartment for me.

My real name was West, but it was a pretty dumb name. It seemed like everyone in my family had a name like that. Like my cousins name had been Dallas Winston, but he had died about a month ago (he was shot down by the cops for robbing a convenience store.) I myself was Weston Cole Winston and my father had been Davis Reilly Winston, so all of our names seemed old and western and kind of stupid. But at least my name's not Ponyboy, I thought smiling to myself.

"Yeah, I heard you was ol' Dallas's cousin." Two-Bit commented, cocking an eyebrow and probably looking for a resemblance. I turned away when he looked at my eyes. I hated people looking at my eyes. They were either scared, or thought I was some kind of freak and I was neither. My right eye was blazing blue, like Dally's had been, but my left eye was a smokey gray color. That was what I got for smoking horse for six years straight without any sleep or food, and I had quit the day my eye got the infection, but it had been too late. The doctor had said that it was a pretty common thing and to not worry about it, and quite frankly, I thought I looked tough, almost wild like that.

Two-Bit just smiled and said, "Wild. Like a spooked horse..." It was funny the way he had said 'horse' and I figured that he knew because he just shook his head in laughter. If I had known him, I probably would've beaten his head in then, but I doubt now I would've anyway. There was just something about that comical grin.

"Winston's tend to be wild, as Dally proved to us." Ponyboy said, unconcerned, but he seemed to be leaning forward to study my face. I couldn't blame him though. You didn't often see a face like mine, and I don't mean good looking either. I myself would've thought of me as butt ugly if it hadn't been for girls crawling over me all of the time. I had started to not wear socks and stopped showering, just to see if any would still want me. I had scars all down my right cheek from knife fights and such and my eyes were covered in my long, wild, jet black and extremely greasy hair. Not to mention that my face was oddly pointy, from my chin to my cheeks to my ears to my nose and even my teeth were pointy. Or maybe I just looked like Dallas.

"Weston Cole Winston and Dallas Logan Winston..." I said, out of the blue. I just couldn't help myself. I kind of needed their insults then, just to see if this wasn't a dream. I mean, I had never been able to have even the slightest bit of conversation with the gang. My old friends actually grunted instead of talking. They grunted for Pete's sakes!

"Logan?" Steve said, cracking up. "Big, tough Dallas Winston's middle name was Logan?" he asked of no one in particular. I could've slugged Steve a good one if I had wanted to, but I let it slide. After all I had asked for it.

"At least his middle name isn't Tell..." Sodapop said to Steve with a grin. Two-Bit broke down in laughter, making funny remarks all the way to the floor, where he began rolling around in a fake laughter. "TELL! HA HA!" Two-Bit screamed at Steve from the floor. "Your middle name is TELL!!!"

"Oh yeah? Well you can't talk Keith Emerson Mathews..." Steve defended, frowning. Steven Tell Randle. Hmm, I thought with a laugh. It suprised me how easily these kids could make me laugh, when my old friends had tried for years and didn't get so much as a cough, let alone a BOO.

"Emerson is a very dignified middle name, thank you very much..." Ponyboy said, smiling. You could tell that he was thinking whether or not it was a good idea to add a smart comment to that. Apparently he thought he was safe, for he added, "A dignified name, for a girl."

I couldn't help but smile too. I mean, what he said was the oldest joke in the book, but that Ponyboy kid was a real dreamer. A real good kid. Dreamy, artistic and good willed, and I wanted to be just like him...