We apologize for the long wait for this chapter. Procrastination + school work = A four month wait. There's some language in this chapter too, so be ready for that.
Disclaimer: We do not own The Outsiders, the Jaws theme song, or any other references you may notice.
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Johnny and I met up with Dally under a street light, watching as he called some girl. "…C'mon, baby, you know my hips don't l—" He broke off, a smirk briefly flitting across his face before he scowled at me. "You got jumped 'cause you went dancing home by yourself. Now you've got a partner and you just walk over here like a fuckin' pansy."
I looked away, doing a half-hearted grapevine to the right.
"No no no," Dallas corrected. "You're doing it all wrong, kid."
I sighed. Ever since I was attacked by those Socs and their damn ballet shoes, the gang has been getting on my case about dancing—Dallas especially. He said he was going to train me up good so that I'd never have to eat shoes again.
"Well then show me," I told him, crossing my arms over my chest. We were on our way to The Nightly Double to see that new musical, and Dally had been drilling me on grapevines since the jumping.
He rolled his eyes. "I don't know why I should. You oughta have this by now."
"Aw, Dal, just show him," Johnny spoke up. He was using the side of a building to balance himself as he practiced his ballet positions.
Dallas scowled at him. "I oughta show my fan-kick on your face for getting mouthy with me."
Johnny looked away quickly, pliéing.
Dallas turned made to me, sneering. "Alright," he said, "pay attention 'cause I ain't showing you this again." He crossed his right foot behind his left first and then crossed his left foot in front of his right. I always messed that part up—never knowing whether to cross in front or back first. Usually, I crossed in front, and then ended up stumbling through it when Dallas yelled at me.
"Got it?"
I nodded.
"Good. Now grapevine over to that pretty little thing on the corner." He grinned wolfishly. "Hey, baby," he called. "You want me to show you a few moves?"
I stood still, watching Dally intently as he took a running leap over the fence to get into the drive in. We could've just gotten in the theater by buying tickets, but Dally hated doing things the legal way. Sometimes, he didn't even dance legally. Everybody knew that he put extra metal on the bottom of his tap shoes to sound more intimidating in dance offs. He was also famous for padding his leotards but I won't say where. That's how he got his street nickname: Big, blonde, and beautiful.
Johnny and I followed Dal. On our way over to find some seats, we passed a Soc who was standing with his red haired girlfriend. I heard him murmur something in her ear before some loud music came on in his car, floating out through the open windows.
"Fuckin' Beatles," Dally muttered as he kept walking.
I felt my face get hot as I watched the Soc start dancing slowly and felt my eyes get wide as he slowly starting taking off his coat, dancing like no one in public ever should. He finally whipped his coat off, flinging it in his girlfriend's face. The guy started shaking his hips, pulling his shirt up so you could see his abs and stepping closer to her.
Looking irritated, the girl shook his coat off, saying, "I told you, Bob, I'm never going out with you while you're dancing like that and I mean it!"
I looked around, seeing that Dally and Johnny had both already taken a seat. I walked over to them, shooting a look over my shoulder and seeing the red haired girl stalking away, some other girl who must've been sitting in the car following after her. They made their way over to the seats right in front of us.
Dally got this look in his eye as he saw them, and, even before he started, I knew what he was going to do. He started tapping his feet intensely, wiggling his eyebrows at the back of the red-haired girl's head. Then he started shimmying, leaning forward so he was right by the girls' heads. I sat there, struck dumb, and Johnny got up hastily and walked back towards the concession stand.
The redhead was starting to get either mad or scared. The other one pretended that she didn't notice Dally. But he was getting impatient. He looked over at me and winked before pulling a radio out of his pocket; I never did figure out how he managed to fit it in there. He looked over at some kid nearby, glaring at him until the guy took the hint and plugged the radio in. An Elvis Presley song came out of the speakers and Dally started really getting into it. He's the best Elvis impersonator I know, but I guessed that Socs just don't appreciate that.
"Stop tapping your feet and turn off that music," the redhead said, turning around to look at him coolly.
Dally turned the music up. "Who's gonna make me?"
She glared at him one last time before turning back to the movie and chomping on her gum, obviously annoyed. I thought she was a pretty tough chick to stand up to Dallas the way she did, and if it weren't for the fact that she was Socy, I may have helped ol' Dal in his next endeavors.
"You got a dance partner, baby?" Dal asked, lunging so that his face was dangerously close to hers—his feet were even turned out! Johnny came back at that point, and Dallas winked at him before adding, "'Cause I could definitely show you some moves."
"Please leave us alone," she said. "Just be nice and leave us alone."
Dallas grinned wolfishly. "I'm never nice." He lunged further into Cherry, moving his hips, trying to get her to "dance" with him. You know, the kind of dancing that'll get you disqualified.
She looked disgusted. Her idea of dancing definitely wasn't Dally's. He continued though, and she finally grabbed a coke from someone nearby and dumped it down his pants.
"Fiery, huh? That's the way I like my dance partners."
Johnny reached over and turned the radio off, waving a rose at Dallas. "Leave her alone, Dally."
"Huh?" I wasn't sure if Dallas was reacting to the fact that Johnny was holding a rose, he had cold soda dripping down his pants, or that Johnny had talked back to him.
Johnny swallowed hard, looking a little paler than usual and said, "You heard me. Leave her alone."
Dallas straightened up and glared at him, but walked away without doing or saying anything. You just didn't tell Dallas Winston what to do. Once, when we were at a dance off at the bowling alley, a guy told him to move so he could do some flips. Dally fan-kicked him in the face. A complete stranger, too.
Johnny settled own again, sitting next to me, and I took the opportunity to ask him about the rose. He just shrugged, rolled it between his fingers a bit and said, "New item at the concession stand. Like a greaser's special or somethin'."
It turned out that Socs and greasers could get along okay once in a while. We'd ended up sitting up with the two Soc girls, Cherry and Marcia. And even good ol' Two-Bit, who ended up stopping by and nearly giving Johnny a heart attack, could woo Marcia just as good as any greaser girl.
We were walking Cherry and Marcia home from the movie and I was listening to Cherry talk. I almost didn't notice the noise that was gradually getting closer.
Dun dun. Dun dun. Dun-dun dun-dun. Dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun …
I turned around to see where the music was coming from and saw the Soc from earlier, Cherry's boyfriend, leaping towards us furiously, throwing in an occasional twirl for good measure. Somewhere behind him, I heard another guy's out of breath voice. "Bob!" He sucked in some air. "Can you … slow … down?"
"Randy…" Marcia murmured nearby.
I stepped to the side to see Randy about twenty feet behind his friend, awkwardly trying to imitate Bob while balancing something large on his head. I squinted in the dark, trying to figure out what it was. When I did, I felt my eyebrows furl.
"It's this routine they have," Cherry whispered. "Bob comes in for the attack while Randy has to lug the radio around with their theme song after him. Bob likes to throw it at people."
"What do we do?" Marcia asked no one in particular.
Cherry was the one who answered. "Act normal."
Two-Bit straightened immediately, getting rid of the greaser slouch he was so used to walking around with and started to act like an actual dancer. "Who's acting?"
"You'd think the lackey would at least be in better shape," I muttered, only to receive a tap to the stomach from Two-Bit as Randy caught up.
Bob lunged at us suddenly, his feet turned out into fourth position, and his arms rounded perfectly like he was going to do an inside pirouette or something.
"What are you doing with our girls?" bellowed Bob dramatically.
Two-Bit leaned on Johnny a bit. "What? Ain't got enough oxygen flow to figure it out? Ya'll should really be in better shape, what with ya bein' professionally trained an' all."
Bob glared. I don't think anyone ever dared to question his training before based on the look he had a split second before he caught himself. "Shuddup, you stupid grease, 'fore I tap dance on your face."
"Ballet shoes don't hurt, pretty boy," Two-Bit quickly informed him, looking disinterested, but I could see he was having fun with it. Two-Bit always had fun when we were anticipating some sort of dance off.
"Oh, I'll show you hur—" Bob lunged deeper, but Cherry grabbed his arm and pulled him back, interrupting him.
"Stop!" she cried. "Just stop …"
Bob ignored her, but stopped lunging at us least. "I challenge you to a dance off!" he yelled in the same voice as before.
"What is it with this guy's voice?" I muttered under my breath, earning a slight kick from Johnny. Socs tended to make him nervous, and it was already a pretty tense situation. Thankfully Bob and Randy didn't notice it, though, and we slipped into a tense, somewhat awkward silence.
Biting her lip, Cherry asked, "So there's going to be a dance off?"
"Yeah," I began. "It's—"
Bob cut in enthusiastically from behind me. "A dance off of death."
I glanced over at Two-Bit and Johnny silently to see if either of them had any idea what he was talking about. They both looked back with dumbfounded expressions, and for once, I didn't have anything to say.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Randy shift awkwardly before taking the beer away from his friend. Good thinking, I thought, and nervously turned my feet in and out.
"Saturday night!" Bob continued. "Be there at seven, and bring your dancing shoes!"
Randy tossed the beer can into the street and gently led Bob and the girls away. "Okay, time to go Bob."
He raised his finger in the air one last time, startling the girls and bellowing, "Be there!"
Two-Bit, Johnny, and I stood there for a moment looking after them and stealing glances at each other, until I just couldn't hold it in any longer. "Seriously! What was with his voice?!"