Disclaimer: I Do not own The Outsiders.
Note: I am still working on my other stories. I just got a little side-tracked, is all. :)
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I had been trying to break up with my boyfriend all day. He kept interrupting me. We were driving around town when I finally told him. Big mistake. He kicked me out of the car somewhere on the East side of town. I didn't know my way around the East side. Even worse, it was getting dark. I must of wondered around for at least twenty minutes before finally admitting (to myself) that I was indeed lost. But since stopping wasn't going to help me any, I kept walking.
"You think you're safe walkin' around here by yourself?"
I jumped and looked over at the greaser that had started walking right beside me. I didn't even know anyone else was around. I recognized him from school. I didn't remember what his name was, but I remember that he's known to carry a six-inch switchblade.
" 'cause you're not, ya know."
A shiver went up my spine. I was scared, even thought the boy didn't look all that scary. He was only a few inches taller than me. He had big black eyes and dark tanned skin. His hair was jet-black, heavily greased and combed to the side, but it was so long that it fell over his forhead.Looks can always be deceiving. He placed his hand on the small of my back and we kept walking.
I didn't know where we were going. I began to notice more and more greasers.They licked their lips and did cat-calls that made my skin crawl. The greaser that was leading me took me right past them, but I could feel their eyes burning in the back of my head.
I started to tremble. I didn't know what he was going to do to me. He wasn't saying anything and I didn't want to do anything to make him angry, so I kept my mouth shut too.
We walked for another 15 minutes when I noticed he stopped walking. I turned around he was standing a few feet away. His eyes were downcast. He turned and walked away.
I looked down at the ground and noticed the tracks. He had helped me find my way. If he didn't help me, I might have run into all of those greasers alone, and the way they were looking at me, they might of jumped me, raped me, or worse. He saved me. I was going to call out to him, say 'Thank You'. But I didn't. By the time I got the courage to say something, he was already out of sight. I sighed, feeling guilty. When someone helps you like that...the least you do is say Thank You.
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Note : I may or may not right an epilogue. If anyone wants one, I will.