Here it is!

T H R E E

"Wake up, kid," said a soothing voice. It sounded just like my mother's. As she gently shook me awake, I groaned and put a hand on my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut tighter to help soothe the awful headache brewing in my brain.

"Oh, Mom," I whispered, breathing shakily. "Mommy, I had the worst dream."

I waited for her to say something, anything, but her voice adverted to someone else in the room, "Doc, is this normal?"

"Yup," said a good natured, bubbly male voice. "He should be back to normal in an hour or so. He just has to wear off the shock."

"Alright, thank you, Doc."

"No problem, Mr. Curtis. But next time, tell your brother to be careful where he swings his punches, hmm?"

It took me a minute, but I soon opened my eyes and gasped. It wasn't my mother's hand on my face. It was Soda's. I could see him staring thoughtfully at me, and I shrieked. My eyes darted around. I was in a strange room, lying on a plushy mattress. I could hear crickets chirping outside.

"Whoa, kid! Easy!" Sodapop said suddenly as I jolted upright and backed up further. He grabbed my shoulders. "Easy! Relax."

I could already feel the tears stinging my eyes and I tried to shove him away. Why wasn't I awake yet? Why was I still dreaming? Why did my face still hurt? Was I stuck in some kind of coma? It doesn't connect! There's no logical explanation!

"Please, please, I didn't do it, I swear," I choked out. "Oh God, don't punch me again, please, don't hurt me." I started bawling again., shutting my eyes real tight and rocking back and forth. "I just want to wake up. I just want to wake up!"

"Relax, kid, we know it wasn't you!" Soda assured, his grip on my shoulders tighter. "Ponyboy—my brother—told me everything—Gosh, kid," he said suddenly, because my sobbing hadn't ceased although I wanted it to. He pushed my hair back. "You're acting like you're possessed!"

"Soda?" called a firm voice from somewhere I didn't know. "Is he awake?"

I recognized the voice immediately, and my mind went a little wild. Darry! Call me over reactive, but what would you do if you woke up and saw a fictional and almost-complete stranger lying on a bed near you, and heard the voice of a man who punched you, hard? I hadn't read the book far enough to make out the characters.

I pushed Soda and he kind of dropped back. Then I darted as fast as ever out the door. My eyes darted left and right until I saw what looked like an exit door. Lord knows what I'd do one I reached outside, but I felt like I needed to escape this house.

I was real close to the entrance, but then someone grabbed me from behind and held me up. I started kicking like crazy. My mind told me to relax, but my body was beginning to get the idea that someone was going to beat me up.

"You need to relax," the voice said. It was Darry. I opened my mouth to say something, but he continued, "So just calm down. I know it wasn't you who'd pulled that knife on Ponyboy, and we sure ain't gonna hurt you either way, so calm down."

Something about listening to that guy made me relax. I let my muscles unwind and Darrel put me down. He spun me around to face him and then gave me a firm, expecting look, with his eyebrows raised. I could see Sodapop and Pony watching us out of the corner of our eyes. "Are you going to cool down?"

"Yeah, I'll—I'll chill," I said softly. He gave me a strange look, but nonetheless, he asked, "What's your name?"

"Uh—" I froze up. Should I tell them my name was Sophie? No, my conscious warned me, you don't know them. They think you're a boy, let them think you're a boy.

Darry raised his eyebrows higher, waiting.

"Uh—it's—I'm Ralph," I blurted, dropping my voice down a notch. "Ralph—er, I can't remember the rest of my name."

Darry gave me a slightly suspicious look, but he went on with the next question. "And where are you from, Ralph?"

I bit down on my lip, hard. If I told them I was from the future, they'd surely send me to an asylum right away. "I—I can't remember," I lied.

"What do you remember?"

My eyes welled again. Oh God, what was wrong with me? I remembered home, sweet, home, and my sweet, loving parents, who I loved despite my annoyance for their yelling. I would rather be back in my room, listening to them quarrel than be here, any day. Darry was still waiting. "Ralph?"

"I only remember my age," I lied. Well, it was kind of the truth. The only thing I remembered in the present time was my age and my name and my gender. Putting the future aside, that is. I had no knowledge of years before the 1960's.

"Okay, well, here's the deal," Darry said in a rather business-like tone. "You can stay here for the night. When you wake up tomorrow, if you remember anything at all, such as where you're from or whatever, tell us, we'll take you there, okay?"

Great, I thought glumly. If this isn't a dream, I'm doomed to stay here forever.

Well, would you rather be stuck in the 1960's with some people or no one at all? my conscience questioned me.

I sighed aloud. "Alright. Okay."

It was just for the night, right? Chances were, I'd wake up and find myself back at home, and this would all be one big, tangled web.

An hour had passed while I was in the Curtis house, and I had been sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper forward and backwards. So this couldn't have been a dream. It couldn't have been. There's no way dreams are so accurate, down to every page in the newspaper. And it really was 1966 in Tulsa, Oklahoma. But this doesn't make sense…where's the logic? I knew I was bound to wake up soon—hopefully after I went to bed—but this wasn't a dream, and therefore, I was unsure if I would even be able to wake up.

"Hey, Ralph, you hungry?" called Soda from in the kitchen.

"No," I called back. I shook my head hard, trying to ease my headache.

"You sure? There's some popcorn…"

"Maybe later," I replied, putting the newspaper down. I felt sticky and sweaty all over. I gathered all my courage and glanced across the room, where Pony was flipping through a book. He seemed like a real quiet kid. "Hey, Pony?" I whispered.

"Hmm?" he asked, looking up slowly.

"Do you think—if it's not too much to ask—can I shower?"

Pony gave me a funny look. "Um, sure. Bathroom's straight ahead. I'll go get a towel for you. And there's a new toothbrush in the drawer, so you can take it."

How kind. I headed over to the bathroom, which was relatively clean. Ponyboy came to hand me my towel, and when I opened it up I saw he had wrapped it around a clean, huge, white T-shirt and a pair of boxers.

I stuck my head out the door. "Oh, uh, Pony, you didn't have to give me the, uh, clothes—I could've just worn my jeans and shirt to bed—"

"No, it's alright," he called. "The boxers have never been worn, by the way."

"Erm…" I blushed. Oh, well, princess, I thought glumly to myself. If you're going to pretend to be a boy, you're going to have to dress like one, too.

I sighed and slipped out of my clothes. Then I walked over to the mirror I studied my face. What I saw almost made me scream.

"Holy fudge…" I thought, staring at my face in disbelief. The skin around my eye socket had completely swollen, and it was a sick, nasty purple color that faded into sallow yellow around the edges. I touched it, and then winced as my entire eye throbbed. It was a miracle I could see through that eye. I looked ugly. I even looked like a boy. Well, more of a boy than I already do.

I brushed my teeth and hopped into the shower and stayed in there for quite some time, letting the steam gloss over my skin. I liked long showers, and the water was very, very hot, just the way I liked it. Back in my apartment in New York, the water would only go a little warm, and then drop down to ice.

"Jesus Christ and Mother of God!" I heard a yell say from the door. "Did you start a fire in there?"

It was Sodapop. I felt embarrassed. "Uh, I'll be out in a minute!"

I quickly turned off the pipe and slipped into my clothes. The shirt was huge, but it concealed anything that could've showed through. The boxers were breezy—I didn't know how men could stand them—but I felt some freedom. I rolled my clothes into a ball and decided that I would fold them and place them under my pillow when I slept. When I stepped out, Soda was giving me a funny grin. "Damn, what are you, a girl? I've never known any boy to shower that long."

I laughed weakly. "By the way, do you have any ointment or something that I could put on my eye? It looks nasty."

"Yeah, we do," Soda said, cocking his eyebrow. "Why use it though? It makes ya look tuff."

It makes me look like a boy. I touched my eye gingerly. "I just want it so that it would stop hurting me so much."

"Really?" Soda asked, as if he were mildly interested. "What does it feel like?"

"Like I've been hit with a brick," I replied dryly.

Soda laughed and slapped me on the back, hard, before stepping into the bathroom. "Good, 'cause that's exactly how Darry's punches are supposed to feel."

Despite that one part of my back was burning, I cracked a smile, shook my head, and sat back down on the couch.

The night flew by pretty quickly. We all ate dinner together, which was a hearty meal of four full chickens. I ate like a bird, and Soda teased me about it a little. I was really quiet. I mean, what could be more awkward? What possible conversation could I strike up? Especially with Darry. Oh, hey, yeah, you punched me and everything but it's all good.

At around ten thirty or so, Darry called quits for the night. He bade us goodbye (in which I just stared at him, feeling still a bit paranoid) and shuffled lazily into his room. Soda, Pony and I were watching some old scary movie on the small television—or, at least, I was pretending to. I was too busy worrying about the strange situation I was in. I was so eager to go to sleep so that I could find out whether or not I'd wake up from this odd dream. Or whatever it was. My heart was pounding in excitement as Soda laid down my options for the night—sleep-wise

"Well," he said, standing up and stretching, "We ain't got much of a big house, and I usually share the room with Ponyboy, but if you're more comfortable, I'll take the bed with Darry, and you can take the bed with Pony, if you think this couch is too rough or anything."

I can't express the amount of weirdness I felt right at that moment. Soda would be willing to share a bed with his older brother? Soda already shares a bed with his younger brother? I began to realize exactly what a different time period I was in. In my time, if you did that, you'd be called queer.

"Um, no, it's okay," I replied politely. I wouldn't dare to share a bed with Pony. "I'll take the couch."

And so Ponyboy brought me two pillows and a thin sheet, and I draped myself across the couch. They flicked off the lights, I tucked my clothes beneath the pillow, and I soon fell into a deep, dwelling sleep.

In my dream, I dreamt that the bed sheet slowly started to entangle around my limbs, and pretty soon, they turned smooth, soft, and teal. I was swimming in a sea! And for a couple of moments, I just lay there, staring at the stormy gray sky above, letting the sea lap over limbs, and then all of a sudden, a huge wave crashed over my body, sending me swimming frantically, gasping for air, and then soon, blended into the horizon, getting closer and closer, was an island, with purple mountains hugged by papery clouds. The wave was carrying me, and a faint song was nestled in the breeze, beckoning to me, asking me to allow myself to be free—how could I resist that beautiful siren's voice?—and I went limp, the waves sending me soaring high, and then suddenly—

"Damn it!" I hit the floor with a thud. My eyes searched blindly at the dimly lit living room. My heart dropped. I was still stuck in time. I felt like I could start crying right then and there, but for some weird reason, I just couldn't. It was out of tears. All I could do was frown really, really deeply.

"Ralph? Are you okay?"

The voice startled me and I turned my head a little and saw Pony behind me. "Huh? Oh—yeah…I'm fine…"

"You were having a nightmare," he explained to me, giving me a very funny look. I stood up slowly and stretched and yawned.

"Really?" The dream I had didn't feel like a nightmare, it was actually very, very warming. "How do you know?"

"You kept flinging your arms around you," Pony said with a little grin. I raised my eyebrows, thinking, how long was this kid watching me for? He must've realized how creepy he was starting to sound, because he quickly said, "I came out to watch the sunrise. And then you went all possessed."

I nodded and gazed out the window, where the sky was a beautiful, light shade of pink that blended peach mid-sky and finally a marvelous golden color straight down the horizon. I'd never seen a sunrise in New York before, so to see it here, in a less crowded city, was very lovely.

Pony seemed to read my mind. "It's so pretty." I turned and looked at him. He looked as if he was in the ultimate blissful world, with just him and his cozy little house and the sunrise.

"I've never really watched sunrises," I told him. Then I quickly added, "well, not that I remember of."

Pony smiled, his eyes still glued to the fast-fading dawn sky. "I kind of like sunrises and sunsets. But not many boys do." We said nothing for the next minute, and we just watched the sky slowly turn cerulean blue. When it all vanished, Pony sighed and looked down at his feet. Dang, I thought. This kid is so…so…dreamy.

"Sorry about my brother," Pony said suddenly. "Darry, I mean. He's always been a little bit over protective of me."

I'll say, I thought wryly, but I only nodded. "It's okay. I would've probably done the same thing. But why were those guys jumping you?"

Pony shrugged. "Socials, they don't like us greasers. Think just because we're poor, we don't have any purpose." His face suddenly grew very grim. "It ain't fair."

I frowned. "That's terrible."

"I suppose you don't know if you're greaser or Soc?"

I shook my head. In my time, I'd probably be more middle-class. We stayed quiet for a little while more, and then Pony broke the silence.

"You know," started Pony, "you remind me of someone."

I wrinkled my nose. If he was going to tell me I looked like Betty Boop, I would tell him I heard that line a million times. But he thought I was a boy, and he probably wouldn't have guessed her. "Who?"

"My friend, Johnny," Pony replied softly.

I blinked and almost said, You mean Johnny Cade? Tan, big-eyed Johnny? But I remembered I wasn't technically supposed to know all of the gang, so I kept my mouth shut and let Pony continued.

"He's kind of quiet, like you," Pony explained, sitting on the couch. I sat on the other end. "And he's got big eyes."

"Me? Quiet?" I laughed a little, and Pony looked puzzled. There was no use in explaining that I was only really shy around boys. He'd think I was a nutcase.

"Hey," Pony said suddenly. "I forgot to ask. Do you remember anything else yet?"

I shook my head. "Nope. Well, I remember a couple of things," I added in, because I wanted to sound like I wasn't completely messed up, "like where I was born and what my favorite things are, but no more about where I lived and my family and stuff. I guess I'll have to go to the cops or something now?"

"Naw," he replied dismissively. "They'll kick you in a mad house. Your folks are probably lookin' for you, anyways, so we'll just wait. But today, I'm headin' over with my buddy Dally and Johnny to the Nightly Double. You wanna come?"

In all, complete, truthful honesty, I wasn't sure. I didn't fancy Dallas Winston too much, but Johnny seemed okay and Pony was a nice kid, and besides, I had nothing better to do all day, since I already knew Soda and Steve were going out with their girls and Darry had to work. So I decided to accept. "Okay, I guess I'll tag along. It won't bug your friends?"

Pony shook his head and stood up. "Well, I'm heading back to bed, since it's only five. Sorry for waking you up."

I leaned back against my pillows and pulled the sheets under my chin. "Nah, it's okay. Oh, and Pony?"

He stuck his head back out the door.

"I think it's cool how you like sunrises and sunsets," I said with a smile.

He smiled back and blushed a little, for whatever reason I don't know. I closed my eyes and went back to sleep for the next couple of hours.

Just to evaluate this: she is NOT going to start liking Ponyboy. I mean, he's like a year and a couple of months younger than her...which is not too bad, but also because it would be very weird...in ways I cannot say xD So yes, the next chapter will be much, much better, I promise, and problems with characters will ESCALATE! So...REVIEW and do take my poll :)