Cherry sat nonchalantly on the hood of Dallas' 1956 Chrysler New Yorker, chomping on an overlarge mass of chewing gum and blowing a large bubble. She tugged on one of her curls as she contemplated whether or not she could use a shower. It could wait.
Dallas had just came out of the convenience store, strutting a little, as usual, and trying to balance a paper sack under his arm as he reached for a cigarette. Because he absolutely could not simply wait until he put the bag down.
"Hey Dal, you wanna give me one of those?" He laughed at her as he squinted in the sun, trying to see her pretty face. He put his knees up on the hood of his car, straddling her legs. She had on ripped tights today and one of those dresses that were supposed to look like a sailor's suit. He leaned over and stuck a cigarette between her lips, with a devilish grin on his face.
"Get off me you deadhead." She couldn't help smiling a little. She flicked her cigarette over to the side of her mouth so she could lean up to kiss him. Before she got the chance a shiny powder-blue mustang pulled up beside them.
"Hey, get a room Greasers!" The Soc in the passenger side yelled out the window. Cherry pulled her face away from Dallas' to shoot the Soc's a dirty look. Dally shut his eyes in disappointment.
"Gimme a second babe, I'm gunna go take care of them." He hopped off the hood of the car, but she grabbed the sleeve of his jacket before he got too far.
"They're not worth the effort. Let's bail."
"What do you have against a little fight?"
"Nuthing, Dallas I'm just tired of this place anyway." She looked down uncomfortably. He smiled thoughtfully and tugged on her hair like she had herself before he came out of the store.
He didn't stop looking at her, or grinning for that matter, as he yelled over. "Hey Soc! My girl here says you guys should go to hell! What are you going to do about that!"
"Dallas Winston! I didn't say that!" She kicked her scuffed boot against his chest to shove him away from her.
Now Dallas was really enjoying himself. He paraded around their mustang continuing to yell at them "She says 'Rot you dirty Socs! Rot!'" Now the Socs were angry, and they we're opening the doors of the mustang. Suddenly Dally turned to look at Cherry, his mouth wide open in mock-surprise. "Hey, look we made 'em mad!"
Cherry jumped off the hood of his car, and her and Dallas ran as far away from the angry Socials as they could, laughing most of the way. When they eventually ran out of breath they crouched in an alleyway, watching the Soc's mustang pass by them.
Dallas was breathing heavy, and he looked over to see if Cherry was too. She was still looking down the corner that the mustang just turned, carefully making sure they weren't coming back.
Cherry had been Dallas' girlfriend for the past 9 months. Neither of them had ever been in a relationship that long. And Dallas was still amazed that somehow she hadn't broken up with him yet.
Cherry was always known as a girl that was not to be messed with. So most guys tended to stay away from her, though she was attractive and that tended to be their only requirement. And most of the low-class greaser-girls didn't like her because she followed her own trends and acted decent most of the time. So a Cherry without any friends to call her own settled in nicely with Dallas' gang.
Originally Cherry was friends with Ponyboy and Johnny, and hung around with them most often. But the more Cherry came over, the more Dally took notice to her. From what Dallas had heard greasers around town say, Cherry wasn't worth the effort. He was slowly beginning to realize they were wrong. He started to see Cherry as a girl who dressed in a flawless grunge rockabilly style, dyed her hair a merciless red, got lost in daydreams, could hold her own in a conversation about hot rods, and really listened to music. Not just because a vinyl record was there, but really enjoying it, bobbing her head along to it with her eyes pressed closed.
He flirted relentlessly. Dally… for lack of a better word, dallied until he was certain he could win her over. It was a difficult task, but he was willing to be persistent for this one. At first Cherry hated Dallas, and wanted nothing more than for him to leave as soon as he entered the room. She wished there wasn't any part of her that was attracted to him whatsoever. It really was against her favor that he was a criminal, because she found that charming.
Then Johnny got jumped, and she saw how protective and willing to defend his friend Dally was. And her verdict was that Dallas couldn't be all bad. And on the night of the high school graduation party the guys threw her, she finally agreed to give Dallas a chance. Well, sort of.
Everyone at the party was a little intoxicated, and she had somehow agreed to play Mercy with Dallas, where you hold a lit cigarette against the other person's palm until they say "mercy". No one thought it was strange that she agreed to play, because they all thought she hated Dally, and would have loved a chance to burn his hand up. Then Dallas joked, (as always when there was some kind of competition with Cherry), "If I win, you have to let me take you out on a date." Problem was, Cherry usually won at whatever it was they were doing. Cherry had never played Mercy, and on that night, Dallas held out longer than her.
Cherry lost honorably, and immediately owned up to the consequence. "Alright. Fine. I'll go out with you." All the guys couldn't believe that she didn't fight it. Even more implausible was why she seemed to be holding back a smile as she said it.
And now, 9 months later, Cherry is beginning to wonder if she might just be impossibly in love with Dallas. Not impossibly because she never knew she was capable of this amount of caring for someone else or anything like that. Impossibly because she never, ever, thought it would have been Dallas Winston. But then again, maybe the other use of the word applies too.
Dallas noticed she still had the cigarette hanging out of her mouth. "How'd you manage to hang on to that the whole way here?" he asked her, immensely impressed.
"I just didn't think it'd be right to waste one." She blushed. Then Cherry leaned her head over on Dallas' leather-covered shoulder. "You're just more trouble than your worth, you know that?" He kissed the top of her head.
"That's what my momma used to tell me." He struck a match on the pendant of his chain and offered it to her.
"I don't even think I want it anymore." She took the cigarette out of her mouth and held it in the palm of her hands, wrapping her fingers around it.
"What's the problem baby? You sick?" He asked as he twirled the unused match between his fingers, watching the tiny flame swirl.
"Sick of this godforsaken town, that's for sure. All the stereotypes. Why can't people just be people?" She looked up at him, her eyes wide with sadness and frustration.
"Cherry, sweetheart, none of us like it." He sounded a little like someone trying to comfort an upset child.
"The stupid Socs have more money than they need and us Greasers…" She trailed off, and then she picked up her boot to show Dally its battle wounds. "We have holes in our shoes because we can't afford new ones!" She was nearly in tears by this point.
"Aw, that's nothing. I duct-taped mine and they work just as well." This was Dally's attempt to comfort her.
She sniffled and wiped her nose on the shoulder of her sailor dress. "Yeah, I guess that could work." He peeled the duct tape off his own shoe and motioned for her to give him her injured boot. He worked on it as she continued talking.
"I just don't know what we're supposed to do Dallas." She stared off into the brick wall of the opposite side of the alleyway.
"Why is this bothering you now, babe?" He didn't like when she brought up the "what are we supposed to do?" question. Dallas was the type of person who just took what he got. Sure, he screamed "Screw this!" threw it down and stomped on it after he got it, but he still took it. Cherry was different. She was a dreamer, filling her head to the brim with realities she couldn't obtain.
"…We're trashy Dally. I was about to make out with you on the hood of car you stole! Those Socs were out of line for yelling at us like that, but sometimes I wonder if they're right... Maybe we're just Grease…"
"Hey! Look honey that is not true!" he didn't want to believe it either.
"You can honestly say we have class?" She looked down at the duct tape he was trying to stick down to cover the hole in her shoe.
He didn't answer her for a while. Then he finally admitted, "Okay I have very, very little class, but that's not what I'm upset about." Even Cherry had to smile knowingly about this. "It's not like we're just Grease and that's all we are. I mean, look at you." He didn't say precisely what he meant by that, but Cherry knew he meant that she was more than most of the Greasy girls, and that alone was enough to put her in a softer mood.
"Light another match Dally; I would like my cigarette now… Please." The way she said that amused him.
"Enjoy your cancer stick little girl." He announced as he handed over a match. Cherry lit up and took a long drag. She exhaled the cloud of smoke as she tried to forget why exactly her emotions we're torturing her. Then he handed over her crudely-repaired boot.
This isn't exactly Prince Charming handing Cinderella her glass slipper, but this Greaser version of the story isn't all bad either. Cherry thought to herself, smiling despite her less than happy emotions right now.
Dallas seemed to be enjoying his cigarette, as always, but he took it out of his mouth to voice one last opinion. "I mean, it's not like we're gunna be able to do anything about it. The way I see it, we just hafta enjoy what we got, man."
Cherry seemed to be thinking something over. She was haphazardly trying to align things in her head. She was so confused and even the cigarette wasn't helping. In all the commotion in her mind, suddenly one thought hit another, and an idea was struck. "I have an idea." She got up quickly, laughing in the thrill of a bold discovery. "Dallas I know what we have to do!" She yelled delightedly and twirled around, the ends of her dress splaying out. He got up from where he sat and flicked away his cigarette.
"Yeah, get back to my car before those no-good Socs slash my tires."
Cherry was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to worry herself with reality. She grabbed the back of Dallas' head pulled it forward to kiss him. "Meet me back on 95th and Roe Avenue tonight, understand?"
"Yeah sure, whatever baby." He put his hand around her hip. Obviously he wasn't done kissing her. But she pulled away, still excited with her thoughts as she ran off.
Dallas nodded to himself, disappointed again as he headed back to the convenience store. "They slashed my tires, didn't they?" He was fairly sure of that.