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Chapter Fourteen

Disclaimer – I do not own the Outsiders. Or Far Away by Nickelback.

-- I love you, I loved you all along --

I couldn't believe what I was doing. I hated myself. I felt like throwing up. I felt like screaming. I felt like killing myself.

But mostly, I felt like I couldn't stop.

I turned another corner and there it was. The three storey ranch house. Probably the nicest house on the east side. Buck Merril's place.

I stopped when I reached the front walk. Was I really going to do this? I stared up at it. I was drawn to it the way a moth is drawn to light. I couldn't help myself. I was entranced by it.

I was just about to take another step when a voice behind me spoke.

"You ain't goin' in there," it called.

I was snapped out of my trance. I turned quickly to see who had spoken. What I saw surprised me, and I'm not sure why. There, leaning against the hood of a Thunderbird that I'm sure wasn't his, a cigarette dangling dangerously from his lips, stood none other than Dallas Winston.

I looked down at my feet and sighed. "Okay," I replied.

"Get in the car," he told me. I silently obeyed.

I didn't know where we were going, but it wasn't my house, and it wasn't the Curtis place. After awhile I decided that he wasn't taking me anywhere, he was just driving around town. He was probably trying to think of something really nasty to say.

Finally, he opened his mouth. "What were you thinkin', Morgan?"

I shrugged and continued to stare at the dashboard.

There was silence for a few more minutes, until –

"Why did you kiss me?" I was looking at Dallas now. He shifted uncomfortably and I saw his knuckles go white as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

Suddenly, I understood. That's why he hadn't answered me when I'd asked him who else cared about me. It's not that there was nobody else, it's that he was to scared to tell me who. He cared about me.

Dallas cared.

I hadn't realized it, but he'd pulled onto my street and was coming to a halt outside my house. I looked over at him.

"Thank you," I whispered. He looked at me.

And, for the first time, I kissed him.