"Juliet, we're leaving." That was all I heard, and then before I knew it I was being whisked out of work without warning headed somewhere out on the outskirts of town.
"You're not fixing to murder me, are you?" I half joke, watching Dally's back as he paces quickly ahead of me.
He just grunts in response, and I shiver, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. I trudge on behind him, failing to navigate the uneven ground multiple times.
We reach a big open field, and Dallas stops abruptly. I stop a few feet behind him, and without warning he starts pacing, up and down angrily.
I raise my eyebrows watching the spectacle in front of me. He's finally lost it. My mind runs circles as he continues to pace. His eyebrows furrow, and I can tell his brain is wrapped tight with thoughts.
"Fuck." He shouts.
His shout catches me off guard, and I nearly jump sky high. My eyes widen as I watch him.
"Dallas?" I ask after a few moments, timidly approaching him.
"Damn it." He yells again, and I stop trying to get any closer to him.
"Dal?" I try again more forceful this time.
"I hate Shepard, I really do. Ya know that Sylvia?" his voice is hard, and it cuts through the crisp air like a knife.
"Is that what this is all about?" I reach out, placing my hand on his arm. He stops pacing.
"What else would it be about, man?"
"Shoot, I don't know. What happened?" I ask, and he leans into my hand a bit with his body.
"That prick." He growls, and I wait patiently for an answer "He was bragging on how he fucking manhandled you. He said he was glad he had you because you knew how to stay in line, and understood when you were out of line."
"Are you sure? Tim wouldn't say that." I try to convince him, but I don't even convince myself.
"Yes I'm sure. I won't even tell you what he said about grabbing you the way he did. I fucking hate him." He starts pacing again, and I sigh, rolling my eyes at him.
When I realize he's too riled up for reason, I drop to the ground, resting my chin in my hands as he continues to throw obscenities into the air and pace.
I think he's overreacting a bit, but I don't say anything, because knowing him it would just make it worse.
After what seems like forever, he stops pacing, and drops to the ground next to me. He's clearly still agitated, so I don't push it. I just sit next to him, waiting for anything to happen.
"I hate him." Dallas finally sighs "I hate him for thinking he can hurt someone who ain't bad, or a hood."
"So you've said." I shrug, unsure of what to make of the situation or Tim's supposed words.
"Jesus, why ain't you mad?" Dallas rips some grass into what must be a billion pieces.
"What good would it do?" I shrug, avoiding eye contact with him.
"Are you serious, Sylvia?"
My response must have upset him because he starts using foul words again, and rips out more grass.
I just don't answer him, brushing some of the grass he's throwing around off of my lap. I'm not even sure he's in his right mind to be honest.
"Look, I know it's only been two weeks, but I want to know you, man, and I feel like I do, ya know," he pauses, glancing over at me, holding my gaze "and I know you deserve better than how he's treating you."
I think for a moment, knowing deep down that Tim cares about me, and he wants to take care of me.
"Dallas, it's just the way things are going to be." I assure him, and I know that some silly part of me wants to believe that he's right. But his life is unpredictable, and there's no use in counting on something you really can't count on.
"What if it doesn't have to be?" he whispers, his gaze burns into me.
"It won't change."
"What if it could?"
My breath catches in my throat as he leans closer to me, and I swear my heart beats so loud someone in St. Louis could hear it all over again.
His lips meet mine desperately, and I forget everything. His hands find my waist and I can barely even think. It's like he's stealing me away.
Lips crashing together, I fall onto my back, fighting for something, anything. Lives intertwined by limbs, my heart trembles.
I pull away first, gasping for breath of any kind. He just sits watching me with a proper smirk painted across his smug face.
"What, can't keep up, kid?" he jokes, laughing obnoxiously, his kindness has obviously been stolen by cockiness over our kiss.
"You're a menace." I pause, still breathing like I ran a marathon "and you're vile, and nasty, and you're," he cuts me off with a laugh.
"Can it Juliet, I was only trying to kid with you, no need to bite my head off."
"Dallas Winston, I want to hate you." I announce, frowning when I come to my realization, looking to the ground I sigh real loud "but I can't."
"Well then, isn't this a strange change of events." He mocks.
"Well, I wish I could hate you." I frown at his mocking, deep down the smirk hurts a bit, but I know better than to show him.
"Do you now?" his head tilts and eyes search my own with smoldering intensity.
"Yes." I whisper, my voice shakes as he continues to watch me.
"Doesn't seem like it."
His lips meet mine again, he's much more docile now. It's almost sweet.
"I think you may actually like me." He whispers, pulling away and then kissing me again.
I don't bother arguing with him, knowing that I do. I'm sweet on Dallas Winston, and it ain't worth hiding any longer.
He pulls away, cupping my cheeks in his hands and looking at me like he's afraid I'll vanish right there.
"God you're too good," He groans "you know, you're going to be the death of me."
. . .
"Sylvia?" I jump off my bed, rushing towards the stairs as Danny becomes more frustrated.
"Yes, Danny?" I ask, smoothing out my outfit while I watch his burning eyes.
"Why did I hear that you ran off with that hood while you were supposed to be working?" he growls, smacking down the paper he holds in his hands.
Curly looks at me sheepishly from behind Danny, and I glare at him like I wish I could kill him with a simple look.
"Now Dan, I didn't tell ya so you could yell at her." Curly tries to defend me, but Danny seems downright livid.
"I forbid you from seeing him." Danny demands, turning to face Curly again, because why would I argue?
"No." I find courage, even though my voice wavers, I'm glad I even was able to speak.
"What did you just say?" Danny turns, and for the first time I actually fear the boy who used to do anything to make sure I didn't fear a single thing.
Everything in the kitchen seems to freeze, even Curly. Danny was gifted with the misfortune of having my mother's temper, and fights between him and anyone who gets in his way are a common occurrence.
Curly's eyes are begging me to just keep my mouth shut, but for some reason I can't. My body pulses with anger, only this time I don't try to force it back in.
"I said," I pause, taking a deep breath like I'm prepping myself for some catastrophe "no."
Danny just stays frozen, but I can see the way his jaw clenches and his fist tightens. I want to run upstairs, close my eyes and pretend I aint even there, but against my better judgement I stand my ground.
And then, just in case he wasn't mad enough, I top it off, and I swear it nearly pushes him straight into a fit.
"You ain't dad, stop pretending you are." I push past him, running out to the porch, doing what I must be best at.
I don't even bother with a jacket or worrying about Charlie, I just run like something's after me.
There's an old lot three streets down, and I know it's my best bet. Karen's would be the first place Danny would check, and with Tim drinking as much as he is and crashing there all the time, I know it would just turn this nightmare into a waking terror.
My pace slows as I approach the lot, sobs starting to shake me as every ounce of courage I had slips my grasp. Wiping away at tears, I stumble onto the cracked pavement, looking around for a place to sit.
"Hey." A voice calls and I nearly jump right out of my skin.
I whirl around in a circle, and my eyes land on the battered boy from the Dingo. I don't respond, just watch him with tears still stinging my eyes.
He steps closer to me, and I stumble backwards, nearly collapsing to the ground.
"You ain't gotta be scared of me," he holds his hands up, coming closer "you're Dal's girl, right?"
I don't have it in me to say no, so I just nod, watching the boy in front of me warily.
He smiles at me, taking off his tattered jean jacket and holding it out to me. I take it with a smile despite my tears, and put it over my shoulders.
"Here, I'll take you to Dal, alright?" he asks, pointing in the direction of Buck's.
"Okay, thank you." I offer him another small smile, wrapping the jacket tighter over my shoulders.
We walk in silence for a while, I don't know what he's thinking, but I can't help but thinking that I can never go home again. Danny will have it out with me right on the porch if I do.
"My name's Johnny, by the way." The boy finally speaks, looking over at me as we walk. I can't help but notice his stutter, but it doesn't make a difference.
"Sylvia." I respond "Ain't you cold being out here tonight?" I eye him and all his bruises.
"It isn't as bad as it could be." He just shrugs.
I nod, looking back down at the cracked sidewalk as we approach Buck's. The big building looms over us, and my heart beats faster. What if he doesn't want me here? My mind finds a thousand reasons to turn around, but I can't when I spot a familiar hood outside barely lit up by the lamp, and smoking a cigarette like he needs it to live.
Johnny calls out to him, and he looks up at us. I can see his face flash with anger when he sees my tears, there's no snide comment about being tuff. He just hurries over to me, his eyes frantically running me over for injuries, or anything else that could be making me cry.
"Jesus, Juliet, what's gotten into you?" he asks, cupping my cheeks in his hands. He wipes some stray tears, and looks deep into my eyes.
"Can we just go inside?" I whisper, clutching at my stomach. I feel I could be sick any moment.
"Yeah, yeah, you good Johnnycake?" Dallas asks Johnny who just nods before heading back down the street the way we came.
Dallas leads me upstairs, past a few prying eyes, and into the same room I barged into weeks ago. He starts tossing clothes off his bed and into a pile at the foot of the rickety cot. He leads me to it uncharacteristically gently, letting me sit before starting to pace.
"What in the hell happened now?" he asks, his hands fly in the air angrily.
"Danny said I couldn't be seeing you anymore, and it just made me so angry." I pause, trying to regain my breath "and I said no, and then he was right upset, and I told him he wasn't my dad, and man that one really made him angry. I think he was fixing to do me up, but I just ran."
Dallas looks torn between pride and anger as he stares down at me, his pacing stopping.
"I knew you had it in you. You're a modern day Juliet, Jules." He laughs, sitting down on the bed next to me.
I look at him, a smile starting to grow on my lips as I look up at the boy who has taken my affection and multiplied it every time he even glances at me.
"You know, you ain't gotta cry about this." He never even breaks eye contact with me "You aren't property, you gotta stand up for yourself. You're worth so much more than that."
My heart flutters, and I know right then that there's no erasing Dallas Winston, I ain't gonna just forget him, or pretend he don't exist. He does, and somehow a no good hood has stolen away with a little bit of me. I am sweet on Dallas Winston more than I'd like to admit to anyone.
"I gotta ask you something, but I'm no good at it." Dallas rubs the back of his neck, suddenly interested in looking everywhere but at me. It's a stark contrast from his usual self who seems to ooze confidence wherever he goes.
"Well, looks like you just gotta be tuff." I grin at him, hoping that my attempt at a joke will break his sudden slump.
"You wanna go steady?" he finally asks almost quicker than I can comprehend.
I let myself laugh and he turns red.
"Yes." I giggle, putting him out of his misery.
"Now, I ain't promising I'll be nice, or that I'll stop making fun of you, and I'll probably still be a menace," he tries to look tuff again, and I can't help but keep laughing "But I'll try to be a gentleman, for you." He turns serious, slipping off the ring on his finger and putting it on my finger, fumbling to find the right one when it's too big.
He curses under his breath, and finally slips it onto my pointer finger where it sits, still a little loose, but it works for the moment.
"When you got this," he holds up my hand to show me the ring "you got me."
"And when I have it, you have me." I smile up at him, unafraid of what his proclamation means.
"Damn right I do." He smirks, crashing his lips onto mine.