Thank you all for the kind reviews and helpful grammar and spelling hints. I hope everyone enjoys the second chapter. I don't own The Outsiders

-The Youngest Writer


Chapter 3- Dusk till' Dawn

"So, Summer is here, Ponyboy I expect you to help around the house." Darry nodded to Ponyboy as he strapped on his tool belt. Ponyboy nodded back, slowly. Darry bit his lip, walking closer to Ponyboy. "Are you okay, Ponyboy? Not feeling sick again, are ya'?" Ponyboy brushed Darry's hand off of his forehead.

"I'm fine. Just sleepy." Ponyboy mumbled. The poor kid didn't get that good of a night's rest last night, he was still shaken up about seeing his parent's bedroom. Darry sighed. "Well, alright. I want you to do the dishes and tidy up just a bit then around noon, take a nap. I'll know if you didn't, kiddo."

Ponyboy nodded, again. "Alright."

Darry didn't feel too sure about leaving Ponyboy alone. Two-bit actually had a job now, Soda and Steve were working and he had no idea where Dallas was.

"I'm calling Mrs. Matthews, maybe she can watch you-" Darry reached for the phone.

"No, Darry. I'm fourteen, I don't need a sitter." Ponyboy begged. "I'll even call you at work and tell you I'm still alive. Promise-promise."

Darry chuckled. "Alright, call me before noon. I'll be back around six, Soda should be home around three. If you get hungry there's left overs in the fridge." Darry patted Pony's arms before leaving. Ponyboy slowly turned to the couch and laid down slowly, allowing alight slumber come to his eyes.


The greaser whipped a little blood away from his mouth before harshly swinging the bar door open, tromping in like he was out for blood. His rage was sky rocketing through the roof, he couldn't get the blonde fourteen-year-old out of his head and everyone and everything, PISSED him off.

He picked up a half drank glass of Jäger and chucked it on the floor next to Buck, who was passed out on a table. Buck woke with a jolt.

"Bar's closed!" His voice slurred. He whipped away at his eyes before getting a good look at who woke him up.

"Well I'll be damned, Dallas Winston. Thought they hauled you in." He snickered. Dallas scowled at the drunk man before hopping over the bar to help himself to whatever he wanted. Because Dallas gets what he wants. Buck slowly helped himself off of the the circular table before breaking it and falling to the concrete ground.

Dallas sipped his glass of Jäger, enjoying the rum mixture. The cool refreshing drink traveled down his throat into his hot belly. He knew this drink wouldn't end well, but who cared? No him. Not nobody. Tough as nails Dallas Winston wasn't going to let anyone make him soft.

"What brings you here, Dally?" Buck grumbled, the hangover kicking in rather quickly. "Haven't seen you in a week and then ya' stroll up in here' all pissy and not sayin' a damn word." His voice became low and he eyed the greaser who kept his own piercing eyes on the bar table.

Slowly Buck let his tongue roll out the question, "Ya' get em?"

Slowly Dallas rose his head, his piercing icy-hot eyes sending daggers into Buck's deep brown ones. His jaw tensed and his knuckles popped.

"The kiddies who killed that rich kid." Buck continued, not realizing the danger he was in. "They get em?"

Without hesitation, Dallas took a hold of Buck's dirty collar shirt and brought him closer. Buck tried to push himself back, but Dallas held him close. With or without cracked ribs, Dallas wanted to beat him. Because all the world's problems were caused by everyone else but him. He did NOTHING wrong. It was THEIR fault. It was EVERYONE ELSE'S flaws that made the world a hateful, dark and backstabbing place.

Buck licked his bottom lips. "Heard that kid died."

Dallas' bottom teeth nearly chattered with anger. "He's gone, Dallas. Remember that song: Hero's are dying, Momma's crying." Dallas didn't let his grip off of Buck's shirt as Buck continued the song. "And everywhere you look sinners are wearing masks of saints." Dally's glare intensified.

"Don't blame me." Buck smirked. "I'm just a kid."

Dallas rose his fist but it was held back. "Alright, Winston, that's enough." Dallas and Buck saw Tim Shepard holding Dallas' fist back from slugging Buck in the jaw. Dallas jerked Buck away and pulled his wrist back before giving one last gulp of his alcoholic beverage and stomping away. Tim turned to glare at Buck whom was laying on the floor attempting to making snow angels.

". . . . .Damn, that kid's breaking!" Buck hollered.

Tim rolled his eyes, "Nah, just a phase, he'll be back, meaner and more ruthless than ever." With that Tim helped himself to the beer behind the bar and had no idea just how right he was.


Julie, a blonde working at the train station as a waitress smiled at the passengers as she offered cakes, teas and other lovely treats for passengers to enjoy on their ride. She turned to the last passenger on the back of the train reading the newspaper, on the front page was an artical about The Greasers that saved seven children from a fire in Windrixvill.

"Golly, those children are so brave. It's a shame to know they are delinquents." She frowned, shaking her head.

"Delinquents? I don't think so mam." The man chuckled.

Julie looked confused as the passenger continued to talk, "You see, there's more to a man that his status of money, fame and or where he lives. It's upon his character."

Julie nodded slowly, ignoring the man. She helped up a piece of pie. "Your pie, sir." She smiled.

The pasty-pale man with medium-black hair and piercing grey eyes looked up at her. He wore a rugged suit and tie and faded black shoes. He had a scar from under his eye and he smirked a smile she would have rather gone without. Fresh out of Prison and headed straight to Tulsa, Oklahoma.

"Why thank you, kind lady. May I ask, how much more time before we arrive to Tulsa?" He asked.

She bit her lip, "About an hour sir, is there something wrong?"

"Oh, no." He chuckled, munching on his pie. "Just, very anxious."


"Alright, Ponyboy. You did the dishes?" Darry asked, talking on the phone to Ponyboy. "Yeah, Darry. All done, I put the laundry away too."

Darry smiled, very pleased with Ponyboy. "Alright, kiddo. Now, I want you to take that nap. I'm worried about your sleep."

"Darry," Ponyboy whined. "If I sleep now, I won't be tired at night." Darry said he wouldn't hear any of it and said if Ponyboy didn't take on, he'd have him over his knee. Ponyboy just agreed and when Darry had to go, he hung up the phone. He had slept a little that morning and he could use another snooze.

But before he could close his eyes, someone knocked on the door. Ponyboy cocked an eyebrow. No one ever knocked on their door, unless it was news. Usually news brought heartache or headaches to The Curtis. Ponyboy slowly stood up, grabbed his blanket, wrapping it around him and slowly turned the knob.


Sorry for the short chapter, I'm going in for a treatment today. Wish me luck, and please review.

-The Youngest Writer.