The summer of 1958 had kicked off a bit over a week ago, and Alexander Thorndyke was at the drive-in, about to watch a comedy that, according to the newspaper, looked to be rather promising. He had just walked to the concession stand to buy some popcorn and soda when he heard what sounded like raspy breathing. He slowly stepped out of the line and headed to the source, apparently behind the stand. He turned the corner and…

"Oh, no…"

A brunette around his age was slumped against the concession stand. She was wearing red open-toed heels, one of which had come off, apparently in a struggle. Her sleeveless shirt was ruffled and a matching shade of red, and on her shapely legs were a pair of white pedal pushers.

Alexander squatted next to her and gently shook her shoulders. "Hey," he said gently. "Sweetie, can you hear me?"

Her eyes opened slowly as she let out a weak groan. "Wh… wha…"

He took off his leather jacket, folding it and setting it aside, then cupped her cheek, shaking her gently to keep her awake. "Honey, my name's Alex… I'm gonna help you, okay?"

She gasped weakly.

"What's your name, honey?"

"M… Marty…" she said weakly.

"Okay, Marty I need you to stay awake. You're gonna be okay; come here." He cradled her in his arms, gently laying her head on his folded-up jacket.

"Sh… she…" she whispered, reaching for Alex's hand.

Alex took her hand gently; "Shhh… don't talk," he said softly. "Just focus on breathing, okay? Keep breathing."

Marty gasped again, letting out a weak groan as Alex tilted her head back to ease her breathing.

Another girl walked in on the scene, and was about to light a cigarette when she saw what was happening.

"Marty!" she cried.

"She'll be okay," said Alex gently, "but we need to get her to the hospital."

"I- I'll be right back!"

Marty's breathing had become more labored.

Alex gently placed a hand on her neck, feeling a thready pulse. "Marty," he said, shaking her gently. "Sweetie, I'm gonna help you breathe, okay? But you need to… hey…". He shook her by the cheek. "Don't faint, Marty, okay?" He squeezed her hand. "You can't do that, stay with me." Alex parted Marty's lips, placing his own over hers, and began to breathe for her gently, all the while holding her hand, occasionally giving an encouraging squeeze. "Breathe for me, Marty," he said softly, "stay awake."

By this time, a crowd had gathered.

"What happened?" a man asked.

"Did he… did he find her like this?" a woman gasped. "Come on, sweetheart, keep breathing!"

"Why didn't anyone else notice?"

"I don't know! We were all focused on the movie, I guess."

"Come on, honey," another man said encouragingly.

"Oh God!" Another lady cried. "Come on, honey, breathe!"

The girl from before, along with two others, returned to the concession stand a minute or so later.

"There- there's an ambulance coming-"

Sure enough, sirens could be heard in the distance, growing closer.

Two paramedics ran in, and Alex picked up the semi-conscious Marty, placing her on the gurney and the flung-off shoe back onto her small foot.

"We'll take her," said a paramedic, "she'll be alright. What's her name?"

"It's Marty," said one of the girls.

"Okay… we're going to Saint Luke's Hospital. Marty, we need you to try and stay awake."

"What happened?" one of the three girls asked.

"I don't know; I found her like that. My name's Alex, is she a friend of yours?"

"Yeah," said another girl. She sighed. "They call me Rizzo, and these here are Frenchy and Jan."

"Good to meet you all… wish it had been under better circumstances though."

"Eh, what can you do?" Rizzo replied. "Marty'll pull through, I'm sure. Question is, though, who did it?"

"Sonny will be so distraught!" said Jan.

"Her boyfriend?" Alex guessed.

"He wishes he was," said Rizzo, "but she doesn't seem to like him back."

Alex sighed. So much for the movie… but at least he'd made a few friends. He drove home a short while later, content with what he'd gotten.