An hour after the movie ended, Courtney and I had assumed Soda had forgotten to pick us up after taking Cherry home. Now we were walking down the sidewalk, in the direction of my house. I wondered why Soda hadn't taken Courtney with him and Cherry, since they both lived in the same house, but then realized Courtney probably spent as much time away from there as she could take. I could tell that Tulsa was nothing like New York probably was, having been around Dallas Winston for a large part of my life, and he had lived there for three years. He'd been careless of anything before he left to live on New York streets, but when he had come back he was cold as a stone and just as hard.

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye and smiled slightly. She was draped in my hoodie, since the air was cold and she'd forgotten to grab her jacket (now my arms were shivering slightly from the cold). The bear I'd given her at the fair was held loosely under one arm. Walking beside her now, I was able to see she was easily a foot shorter than me. Most girls were. I'd grown far too much over the last few months. I was almost as tall as Two-Bit, who cleared six feet at least.
This was the first time that Courtney and I had actually spend alone since last Saturday. I took her to a rodeo that was happening that night. Every couple of days they'll race a few horses down at the Slash J, and I would go there every chance I got. Dallas used to work there, and me and whoever else wanted to go who knew Dally watched for free (illegally, of course. Dally would have known how to break into or out of a high-security prison if he ever needed to, so sneaking a group of ten or so people into a rodeo was no sweat). Courtney and I were both hollering at the top of our lungs as we cheered for the horses. We had a great time.

Courtney noticed me looking at her and she returned the glance, the corner of her mouth turning up in a small smirk. I figured now was as good a time as any to actually get to know her.

"Soooooooooooooo," I said slowly, averting my eyes from her to the sidewalk below my feet. She kept her eyes on me, and I could tell she was listening for me to say something next. I couldn't think of anything, so I just said, "How are you?"

She let out a low chuckle and I couldn't help but smile a little at my idiocy.

"I'm fine," she laughed, "you?"

"Fine," I replied.

For a few more minutes we walked and I kicked myself for being an idiot because I couldn't think of anything to say, and for being a coward for not having the guts to ask her out. I don't know what Courtney considered last Saturday, but to me it was a date: My first date. If I asked her out, she'd be my first girlfriend, and to be honest I was scared of that. If I could even overcome the fear of asking her to be my girl, I'd have to face a new fear of her saying no. If it was even a considerable possibility that she would say yes, then there was the fear of not knowing what's next. A relationship can only end up two ways: You break up, or you die together.

Now I was freaked out by the fact of dying after spending my life with the girl walking next to me. She was beautiful, with her sparkling grey eyes, that could pass for blue in sunlight, short-cut red hair that flew behind her in the wind, and glowing skin that was almost as bright as the moon looming over our heads. What about her made me like her, though? I knew nothing about this girl, other than she might as well be as Soc and she comes from New York. My gut dropped onto the concrete as I realized I might not even like her - That it might just be infatuation. I realized I was staring and tore my eyes to the sidewalk.

She was nothing like me. Even if it was possible that I actually did like her, and that this wasn't a fixation, and she would even consider saying yes to an actual date, would either of us be happy? I knew nothing about her, but I knew we were two different people. I could tell, just like you can tell if a person's lying just by looking in their eyes.

We were a block from my house now, and I spent most of the time walking staring at the new hole in my shoe. I didn't even know a Corvair had driven up until my arms were grabbed and I was jerked back.

I tugged my arm out their hands and turned around quickly, thrusting my hand into my pocket and flicking out the switchblade. Darry would holler like a banshee if he'd known I'd taken it with me, but ever since I had gotten back from Windrexville I refused to leave the house without it.

I didn't have much courage or self-promotion after thinking about the impossibility of Courtney and I, and the fact that each of the three boys in front of me had a switchblade as well. Courtney had her grey eyes trained on the one closest to her, and her hand was balled in a fist. Suddenly, I was more worried for her than I was for me. If that boy tried to attack her with that knife, she didn't have much defense.

Without really thinking about any possibility that I could get harmed, I lunged forward at the boy that Courtney was having a standoff with. A rough hand grabbed my elbow and tugged me away before I could get within three feet of him, and suddenly I felt cold. My head had hit the concrete, and the chill of pain slowly shuddered down my spine and through my body, making me shiver slightly.

As much as I struggled to get up, my head felt like a ton of lead and the pain surged through my bones every time I tried to move. My eyes flew open and all I could see was the night sky above me, with white clouding around the edges. There was scuffling to my left, and suddenly there was a high-pitched grunt - obviously the voice had belonged to Courtney. I didn't want to think of what had happened. She was defenseless, and those boys had a blade each. Even if I managed to get up and could muster enough energy to overcome the pain that made it impossible to move and help her, I had dropped my blade. At best I hoped she had grabbed it, and I prayed that one of the attackers hadn't picked it up and gained another weapon.

Then there was another grunt - a masculine one - and a thud, like a heap of bricks hitting the ground. I felt proud of Courtney, knowing that the one felled boy was her doing, and then suddenly felt useless. While I was lying immobilized, she was single-handedly fighting off three - now two - perpetrators, and I couldn't help a bit. If I tried, I would most likely pass out from pain, which I'm notorious for, and be an even lousier sack of worthless in this fight.

For a moment I could feel being pulled up, but that was suddenly overcome by intense pain surging through my body. I called out in pain, and could see Courtney being squared in the jaw by one one the boys. I wondered where the other one was. Only one was slumped on the ground, and one was fighting, but there were originally three. Maybe the third had run off? Then I realized that I was being held up by the third one, and his switchblade was dangerously close to my gut. The pain from being tugged around had made both my thoughts and my vision groggy. The fog that had accumulated only around the edges of my sight earlier had now seeped over everything, letting me only see pinpricks of anything going on. I felt almost blind.

That's when the white fog turned to complete blackness