Thank you for all that reviewed! It really means a lot!
As Dally, Johnny and I were walking home from the movies, we saw a blue mustang. Man, it was tuff. It was full of Socs, about four or five.
"Damn." Johnny swore quietly. "What do they want now?" His eyes looked a little nervous. I didn't blame him. Socs made everyone nervous.
"Yeah. This is our territory." I said angrily. "They aren't allowed here."
"Great. Time to kick some SocAss." Dally threw his cigarette on the ground and cracked his knuckles.
"Well, well, well." A Soc came out with a dark sweater. "These are the little greaser shit that were…playing with our women?" He walked unsteadily.
"He's drunk." I whispered. Out came four other Socs walking. They looked like they had way too much booze if you ask me.
"They're all drunk, stupid." Dally angrily said.
"You know what a greaser is?" One Soc slurred. His voice sounded like wine and his breath even smelled like wine. It was so strong, I was nearly breathing that smell. "White trash …with…with long greasy hair." It hit all of us. It hit Dally pretty hard. We were always called hoods or greasers. But never that harsh.
"Well do you know what a Soc is? White trash with mustangs and madras!" Dally said angrily and spat on the ground.
Then it happened. It happened so fast. The next thing I knew, five Socs were chasing us. I heard Dally yell, "Pony, Johnny, get away! I'll handle this! Get Darry!" Johnny turned and looked at me with fearful eyes. We both ran. We both ran past Dally who was fighting one to five, all by himself. He looked at me and yelled "Go! Get out of here stupid!" We were two blocks away and near my house. Me and Johnny stopped to get a breath. Johnny turned to talk to me.
"Do you think he can do it?" Johnny asked me. His big, black eyes got bigger, rounder and he was clearly scared.
"I don't know Johnny. I---" I was cut short, for Darry was coming up to me, his face blazing.
"Where the hell have you been?" Darry asked angrily.
"Dally's in a fight with five Socs." I blurted out. Johnny nodded fearfully.
"What?" Soda joined us outside. His hair was very messy and his eyes were red. "What's going--" Soda never finished his question. For there was a gunshot that pierced the night.