"So," said Hallie, "When do I get to know your name?"
We had been walking in silence for a few minutes and we were about 2 blocks from the border line.
"You don't know who I am?" I asked. Almost everyone is Tulsa knew me, or had at least heard countless rumors about me.
She turned to look up at me, her eyebrows furrowed in.
"Should I?" She asked, clearly confused.
I just looked straight ahead and laughed a small, dark laugh.
"Dallas Winston," I said, expecting her ears to perk up at the name. Surely, even though she'd said she was new in town, she had to have heard my name floating around somewhere.
I was wrong.
"Doesn't ring a bell," She answered automatically.
How 'new' was this girl?
"You a Soc or something'..?" I asked, letting as much acid leak into my voice as possible.
Suddenly her eyes were alive with anger and frustration. She stopped walking and stepped in front of me.
"My goodness!" she shouted, making me blink twice in surprise, "I haven't been here but two days and I couldn't tell you how many times I've heard that question! I don't even know what a Soc is! And what is all this Greaser business? I'll tell you what, if someone doesn't explain this whole situation-"
I cut her off with my hysteric laughing. I couldn't help myself. This chick was completely clueless.
"What is so funny, Dallas Winston?" She said, clearly still frustrated.
"You've got so much to learn, Darlin'," I said beginning to walk again.
"So, teach me!" She said falling in step beside me, "What is a Soc?"
"A Soc," I responded, "is scum.. Although… they seem to have a similar opinion about us Greasers."
"So, you're a greaser?" she asked.
I nodded and suddenly began to crave another cigarette. I shifted the grocery bag into my right arm and reached into my back pocket with my left. When all my hand found was empty pocket, I frowned in confusion. I checked my other, but that was empty, too. Huh, I could have sworn I had put my pack back there. Oh, well.
"And I take it a Soc isn't something I want to be?" Her statement came out sounding more like a question.
I shrugged.
"Guess it depends on how you look at it," I said looking out into the dark sky. There were a lot of stars out tonight. I bet Pony was looking at it from home. He digs stuff like this; skies and stuff. Not me.
"What do you mean?" She asked and I almost had to laugh at how interested she was in all this stuff.
"Well… Soc's are at the top of the social latter," I explained, "That's how they get their name; it's short for Socials. They think they're tuff stuff. They're rich and all that, so that's a good thing, I guess. On the other hand… let's just say they make up in money for what they lack in morals. Not that I'm one to give a lecture on morals or anything.."
When she didn't respond right away I looked down at her to see if she was understanding.
Her head was straight forward, her face full of thought. I used this moment to admire her looks again. The long, almost-black hair was softly blowing in her face from the gentle breeze. Her bright green eyes were focused and her lips were pursed as she tried to savvy the meaning of my explanation. My gaze traveled lower, noticing how her long, tan arms were exposed by her thin, sleeveless dress. My eyes raised again when she slowly nodded.
"I think I get it," she said.
I didn't respond, I just looked forward again and wished I had a cigarette. That's when I noticed we were approaching the borderline. On the corner, there was a small apartment complex that I'd seem Darry roofing once. It was pretty nice. Middle class, probably.
"Here we are," she sighed and led me up the small walkway. We walked all the way up to the second door, "I can take it from here," She said.
She reached out and took the bag from me. I gave it willingly. It had been getting annoying anyways.
"Thanks," she said as she fumbled with her keys. I nodded once.
"So, uh," I said, stuffing my cold hands in my leather jacket's pockets "Are you going to tell me why were you laughing or what?"
Don't think my irritation at her had worn off yet.
"Oh," she said, smiling again at the reminder, "Yeah, here."
She reached into the side of her paper bag and pulled out a small, wrinkled, white box. In faded green letters on the side it said "Kools". My cigarettes…?
"Smoking is a bad habit," she said with a polite smile.
What the..?
She reached out and dropped the box into my waiting hand. Without another word, she pushed her apartment door open and took a step inside. I turned on my heel to leave with my mouth still hanging slightly agape in confusion.
"Bye, Dallas Winston!" she said in a friendly voice before shutting the door.
"Stupid broad," I muttered to myself and stood there on her front sidewalk for a few seconds. I took a few steps forward towards a tall church on the Soc Side of town. I glanced up at the large clock at the top of the tower.
11:32.
The night was still young.
A familiar smirk crept its way onto my face as I pulled a cigarette out of the crumpled box and lit it up. Bad habit, huh? 'Bad habit' is my middle name.
This one's for you, Darlin', I thought taking a long, relieving drag and walking into the darkness.