Dally's POV

The cold metal bars of the jail door closed behind me as I got pushed into the cell.

"Bullshit..." I mumbled as I kicked the wall with my boot.

The guard growled. He was menacing enough. He even had a scare straight down from the corner of his left eyebrow to his cheekbone. He reminded me of Tim Shepard. "Language!" The guard tapped his batton on the bars before walking off.

"What are you, a school teacher?" I called after him, sitting on the bottom bunk of the bed..

"He used to be," A voice from the top bunk sighed, making me jump. "But I slashed him up real good. He ain't takin' shit from nobody no more."

"The hell are you?" I asked, stepping up on the bottom bunk so I could look at the person.

"I'm Fran. It's short for Frangipani," The girl said. She had black hair that was in a bob cut and heavy black make-up. I thought they made you wash make-up off in the cooler? I didn't have very good fashion sense, but I knew enough to know that black lipstick and orange jumpsuits don't go well together.

"You were named after a flower?" I had to hold in my laughter. Here I was thinking that the Curtis brothers had strange names!

"You were named after a place," Fran retorted, shrugging.

"You got a problem with that?" I shifted uncomfortably as I stepped back onto the cold, hard floor. "How'd you get my name, anyway?"

She nodded to where the guard was standing before he left. "Slashy, over there."

"Slashy?" I furrowed my eyebrows, looking straight at the girl for an answer.

"You know, the guard I slashed up," She grinned menacingly. Freak...

Now that was creepy! Even me, Dallas freaking Winston, was scared of this 'Frangipani' girl. "How'd that happen?"

"That's a secret only Slashy and I will know about." She giggled, pressing her index finger to her lips. "Shh!"

Yep, I thought. She's crazy.

"What about you?" She asked casually. "What'd you do bad enough to come to this hell-hole?"

I wasn't a very manipulative person. I always got what I want by threatening, not playing games, but this was a game that had to be played. "None of your business, dipshit."

The girl looked shocked, which made me grin. My evil plan was working!

"You didn't tell me yours, so you don't get mine. Capisce?"

"Ho capito." The girl nodded, grinning sheepishly.

"W-what?" I asked, annoyed. The only Italian I knew was 'capisce', which meant understand. I used it to threaten socs. "You know what? Nevermind. Just let me sleep."

I literally dove into the bottom bed. Unluckily, the bed wasn't as soft as I thought it was, and I rolled, hitting the wall with a 'thump'. I groaned.

I wondered about the rest of the gang. Were they okay? It wasn't like me to be worried, but for some reason I was concerned about Johnny. He was coming around almost every day with new bruises and cuts. He was more quieter than usual, too.

Sometimes I have a sudden urge to walk up to his good-for-nothing parents and give them a piece of my mind. If you didn't already know, that meant beating them up.

They treated Johnny like he was a nuisence to the world, which he obviously wasn't. We couldn't get along without him. We all knew that. I sighed. It was unlike me, but I really missed them.

"You okay, Dally?" Fran asked, relatively concerned.

"Don't call me that," I ordered.

"But it sounds better!" She whined.

I gave up. I just put my cheap, thin pillow on top of my face in annoyance and tried my best to get to sleep.

"Goodnight, Dally," I heard her say. This was going to be a looong two months in the cooler.

"Goodnight, asshole."