Thanks to PonyboySlashLover, smart-cinderella, and LeftyXP for the encouraging reviews! You made me smile :D And, also, thanks to those who added my fic to their favorites, y'all also make me happy!

Oh! And to those of you who are interested, my older Outsiders fic, Here, will be updated very soon! ;p And I will also start playing around with my Star Wars fic, FOOL (just in case you're interested).

A/N: Something important! The last chapter- the whole, Girlie and Dally tumble- was not, I repeat, was NOT the most important part of this fic. Dallas and Girlie aren't miraculously gonna fall in love just because they had sex. That night was just a stepping stone in Girlie's life. I needed it to set the bases for much more important things to come. I didn't write it to establish something between them, rather to solidify, uh, an issue for the rest of this fic ( ONE issue for this fic). THIS WILL NOT BE FLUFF, it will not be a romance, and it will not be centered around a relationship ( At least around Dally and Girlie). This fic is strictly about Girlie, her life, and where she fits into the gang. This may change after the events of the actual book occur (no I will not give anything away).

Sorry for the mistakes of the last chapter (I reread it and cringed, lol) and for the mistakes you will more than likely find in this one.

With that being said, here is Chapter 4. Read, enjoy, and review! ;p

Chapter 4~

My head hurt. I longed for more sleep and tried grasping at the finer edges of unconsciousness, but it was evaporating too quickly, ghosting through my fingers.

Each heartbeat had a throbbing ache echo after it, starting at my temples and pulsing in two half-circles along the back of my head and forehead. My skull felt like it was going to explode whenever I tried to think. So I stopped thinking. The images that assaulted my mind of last night,swelling my brain to painful capacity, slowed down until they eventually stopped altogether as I settled back under the covers.

I kept my eyes closed even though I was now awake, afraid of the sunlight that I knew would pour in from the window of mine and Soda's room. It was Soda's fault we didn't have blinds. He was hyper one night, more so than usual, and decided it would be a good idea to do pull ups on the bar that held up the window curtain. I told him not to do it. It wasn't a strong bar to begin with and was barely able to hold the curtain without falling, much less support Soda's weight. He did it anyway. The bar caved in under his hands before finally failing and breaking in two, taking down Soda and the blinds with it. We never replaced them- we were too afraid to tell Darry so we could get the money to get new ones. Feeling the pain that assaulted my head, and thinking about the harsh sunlight, I couldn't help but wish we had sucked it up and just told Darry about it, or at least maybe hung up a sheet.

I think I'm gonna yell at Sodapop.

I felt him shift beside me and take uneven breaths- he was awake, too, then. However, I wasn't ready to get up just yet, and as much as I want to holler at my brother, I also want him to hold me. Being the only girl in my family, the little sister, gave everyone the need to baby me. Sometimes it annoys me, like when I'm trying to read or draw and they ask me a million questions, overshadowing everything that I do. But other times, like now, when I feel like the world had sat on me then filled my head full of gravel, well…being babied isn't such a bad thing, I figure. So, I snuggle closer to him, tucking my arms underneath me as I lay on my stomach. His hand was placed on my lower back, but I wanted it draped across my neck like it always was. Groaning with the effort it shouldn't have took me, I unraveled my right arm to hug his waist, hoping that he would follow my example and hug me back. This was typical for me and Soda. We have been cuddling together since we were babies and that hasn't stopped yet. It was hard to think of a day when we wouldn't lay like this anymore, falling asleep or waking up. Soda was the only person I could talk to -other than Johnnycake, of course- and these simple moments were the only times I had him to myself to do just that. Work and his girlfriends and even Steve steal the rest of his time. I really hate Steve.

Soda took the hint and held me like I wanted him to. I was more awake now, so when he pulled me closer I noticed other aches and displeasures that were overlooked, thanks to my throbbing head. Things like the sour-bitter taste that coated my tongue or the soreness that tightened in my lower abdomen. My body nearly overlapped his and my head rested heavily on his chest, but I didn't question it. Besides, I felt funny…like, I was heavier or something. I can't really explain it well, just know that I had the most difficult time trying to move any of my limbs, even my toes. A Other things were out of place, too. For starters, the fact that I was shirtless.

It wasn't until the bundled up skirt that rested around my waist started to become uncomfortable that I realized where I was.

I remember reading a book once where this girl fell asleep only to wake up in a fairytale land with no memories of how she got there. She had become frightened in those early morning hours, sitting up frantic and confused, hoping for a spark of recognition to light her eyes, waiting for a Prince to help her solve the puzzle. I'm not sure what caused that particular book to surface in my mind, cause this wasn't the case for me or the situation I tumbled myself into. The bed I was in was no mystery. Sure, I was a little disoriented at first, but that evaporated into the stale air when I realized the state of undress I was in. And with whom. This was no fairytale, and Dally certainly wasn't Prince Charming.

Dallas was definite, now. He wasn't the 'dream Soda' I thought he was or the Prince I knew he never was. Realizing this made last night's activities break through my former thought barrier. I had to face last night. The prospect of it made nausea tingle unpleasantly at the back of my throat. But it wasn't too bad, easy to push down and ignore just so long as I can lay here. Even if I was pressed against Dally, practically laying on top of him, I just needed to lay here for a bit. Just a little longer. I wasn't uncomfortable- ignoring the pain and rumpled clothes- if I needed to be honest with myself. And I had to, be honest that is, cause the idea of a war with my inner-self sounded far too cliche and effort taking at this point.

It's not like I've never been in Dally's arms before. I've been held by all the guys-sans Steve, of course- at one point or another. It was always friendly or teasing in nature, a sister to brother type of expression. Truthfully, it was Johnny or Soda, maybe Two-bit or Darry, that typically held me. Not Dallas, even though we have had our moments. I mean, of course we have. Johnny and I was the closest to him, spent most of our time together, so it was obvious Dally was no exception. He was apart of our gang, and no matter how cold and aloof he would like to appear and was, that made him family and he knew it.

Dallas has held me before, but never has he hugged me. I don't think he's ever hugged anyone but Johnny. I know it probably doesn't make that much sense, and would more than likely sound ridiculous to my own ears if I decided to say it out loud, but I wonder if there is a difference between the two gestures? Is hugging more intimate or is holding? I don't know. It would make sense, though, that Dally has never hugged that many people. I've seen him kiss and grope many girls he's dated, but never have I seen him hold hands with a girl. Not once. When the girl would try he would brush her off, say dejectedly "Don't do that", and that would be that.

I wondered between the alikeness of holding hands and hugging and the fact that it was Dallas I was wondering so much about, but stopped when it occurred to me that I had crossed a line last night. Wondering why Dallas doesn't hug when we very recently had sex is a little stupid.

My stomach churned unevenly and I groaned at the grossness of it.

Dally's hand stopped stroking my back- I didn't even notice he was doing it- but didn't remove it. He spoke, his voice harsh and strained with effort, like he was in pain, almost.

"You're awake." The only response I gave him was a muffled, gurgling sound. He sniffed. " Bout time, too. I know I wore ya out, but I didn't realize I could be that incredible."

I could feel his laughter as it rumbled in his chest, disrupting the sound of his heartbeat. His laughter didn't escape his mouth, but stayed captive in his chest, adding to my belief that he wasn't feeling too hot at the moment, either. The cockiness and just plain rudeness that tinged every word he spoke would've made any other girl upset after what had happened between us. Not me. I was grateful, extremely. He was as I had predicted- plain, hard, cold, uncaring…Dallas. Our relationship- whatever it was…friends, maybe- was unaffected. Glory hallelujah!

I wanted to participate in our usual banter, and say "Sure, Dal. I'm sure it had everything to do with you being a sex god and nothing to do with the tequila." Unfortunately, the words were proving difficult to push out of my mouth, so instead I said this, "Never…drinking alcohol…again." I guess my mouth was still slow, unable to catch up with my fast working mind. It was embarrassing.

"Good to know. Ya can't handle it very well."

Moving my head to the other side so that my right cheek rested against his chest and not my left, I prepared myself. I opened my eyes very slowly, forcing them like I would try to force down a wall with my bare hands. I had nothing to fear from the sun, though. The window was very small and located so that it filtered the sun's rays on the opposite side of the room. What a small relief. I tilted my head to see Dally with his left arm covering half of his face. But I could see one eye, watched as he tightened his lid and furrowed his brow. His lips were firm and seemed to lack some color. I would've rolled my eyes if I knew it wouldn't hurt like the devil.

"You don't seem too much better."

He opened that one eye and narrowed it at me when he saw that I was looking at him. Then, with a huff, he closed it again. "Yea…" He drawled satisfied, and I knew that quick that I shouldn't have goaded him. " 'cause I'm the one that tries to hop in bed with hoods when they hit the bottle. Tell me, Ponygirl, have ya always had a thing for Tim, or was it a spur of the moment type of thin'? "

I had forgotten about that. "Oh, no… Tim." A sound between a sob and a whimper escaped my lips. What was I suppose to do now? Angela. Curly. What would they say? What was everybody going to say?

"Yea, Tim. What were you thinkin' exactly, huh? And don't give me that bull you gave me last night, cause there's a lot of guys in this town that woulda screwed you senseless, and you know it."

That was blunt, I thought. I looked down between us then looked back to his face, noticing that he watched me with both of his eyes, now. "Apparently", I said, just as forward, though not meaning to be.

He flung his arm back over his face, but not before sending a glare my way. I shuddered on impulse. He really does scare me. What was I thinking'? "Shut the hell up, Curtis. Are you gonna answer my question or what?"

I knew he would keep pestering me if I didn't tell him. Not that it was that big of a deal. "I've been stayin' over at Angela's. Uhm… you know that part, I guess." He gave a brief 'yah', and I continued. "Well, Tim would come on to me. He's been wantin' to get with me for awhile. And, ya know, he aint the worst lookin' guy around!" I was starting to get a little worked-up. I felt like I had to justify something, and I didn't like that, it made me feel defensive. I calmed myself down-the excitement was doing nothing good for a hangover. "It seemed like a good idea at the time…"

"Yea, I knew about that, too."

"About what?"

"Tim wantin' to get up your skirt."

I looked at him, and I'm sure the look was strange. I wasn't certain what to make out of what he just said. "You could've told me that."

His lip turned up, forming a sly smirk -it was short lived. "Looked like you figured it out on your own."

Faces popped up like phantoms in my mind as I recalled the events of last night, specifically the time I shared with Tim. For the life of me, I can't remember what it was I was thinking. Whatever it was, I'm pretty sure it was stupid. Each face was etched in my memory. They looked at me the same way they looked at Angela; at Sylvia; Evie; at all of the Greaser girls… I have never been looked at like that before, not once. But, I had convinced myself that was what I wanted- to be looked at like all the other girls. Now, I'm not so sure. Actually, that's a lie. I hate it. And I hate myself because I'll never be looked at as Ponygirl Curtis again. I'll just be another Greaser broad. My reputation, the one I thought needed revamped, was ruined. I really don't use my head. I can't believe I let myself fall for an insecure lie like that. Being like everyone is the worst decision I've ever made in my life.

I was wrong before. Sex isn't about control, it's about conformity. Even in the Greaser world. We think we are proving freedom of choice to ourselves every time we spread our legs or get hauled in, but that's not true. In reality, we fall prey to what the rest of the world thinks of us- a bunch of no good sluts and hoods. I never got along with those other girls, anyway. I never understood them or vice versa. I went to such lengths to be like them, though. What a joke I turned out to be.

No, definitely not drinking again. Definitely not.

I felt the front of my head throb as my eyes burned with water, preparing to spill over. A solitary tear slipped from my eye. It rolled down Dally's stomach to be absorbed by the fabric of his jeans, only to be forgotten. Jeans? I didn't notice he had jeans on. I guess he slipped them back on after I fell asleep. He wasn't looking at me, which is good cause I don't want him to see me cry; don't want him to know how affected by things I can get. Could he even understand that? Probably not.

Dallas' face was one of those cemented in my memory. He was angry that night, ready to beat someone's head in. Which he did. He still looked hacked off. "Are you mad at me?"

He bit his lip and shook his head. He looked like he was thinking about something, having an inner debate. In a sudden movement, he reached to get his pack of Kools from the floor. He opened the pack, only to find it empty- a good chance to throw something across the room. The crumpled box landed with a tiny thump. Dally's hands were rigid as he ran them through his hair and over his face. "Sometimes you can be just…so…stupid, Girlie! Do you know that? I mean, do you ever use your head?"

He removed his hands and placed them on the bed. He was shaking his head and I was trying not to run away. If it weren't for the fact that I wouldn't make it to the stairs without killing myself I would have. But I was stuck there, afraid to move; made prisoner by my traitorous body and forced to listen. " I have never meet such a smart person that makes such dumb choices like you, kid." Then he smirked, and it was almost kind. " Nah, I ain't mad at ya. Why in the hell would I be mad at ya, it's your life."

I nodded, but internally I was confused. If he was so upset that I was going to have sex with a hood, then why was he so willing? Why would he say he didn't care if he acted the way he did? What he did and what he says is totally contradictory. Dallas was just too confusing, right now. I knew there was a reason I didn't like him much, even if he was one of my best friends.

Because I never think, I ask, "Dally, why'd you have sex with me? I mean, your on my case about Tim, but you still, well…" I felt my cheeks blush as he looked at me. I really am an idiot. I need to stop hanging around Two-Bit so much, cause it seems I can't keep my mouth shut anymore. I used to be the quiet one.

" Are you serious, Girlie? I was drunk. And you were throwin' yourself at me. Plus, you're pretty easy on the eyes."

"Thank…you?"

"Your not as innocent as everyone thought you were, are you?" I felt the blush on my cheeks deepen and my hangover was getting the best of me. He must have noticed, cause he said, " Okay, so maybe innocent was the wrong word. Boy howdy! You sure can blush, Ponygirl." He paused for a moment and laughed, but I hardly saw the amusement. "Little. Yea, that's it. You ain't the little girl everyone thought you were."

He leaned in closer, making me nervous. "Who taught you how to kiss like that, huh?" I was silent. There is no way I'm telling him. Dally hates Boe with a passion. "It wasn't Boe Brannon, was it? Don't lie, kid. Ya haven't hid it very well. Beds of trucks- ya know, out in the open where everyone can see you- ain't exactly the most secretive of places, if ya catch my drift. Don't help much that he's been telling everyone from here to Texas bout y'all"

I should have expected this, I really should have. It'll only be a matter of time before that gets out…just like last night. "What has he been sayin'?

"Everything. He says that the two of y'all have gone from here to China and back again. Most people don't believe him." He smirked again, and I wondered about the playfulness of it. "And after last night I know for a fact he's a liar." The smirk disappeared and he looked at me almost thoughtfully. "Ya know, kid, you're the first virgin I ever had?"

I was torn between being surprised and not being surprised. "Really? I was your first?"

"Yep." He blew an invisible smoke ring- out of habit, I guess. "So… did it hurt? Or is all them broads lying just to be complainin' about somethin'?"

Should I lie, I wondered? No. I was his first virgin, but probably not his last. May as well tell him what to expect. "Yea… a little. Well, a lot at first. Like, being ripped open." He made a face. "But, after a bit it starts to get better."

"Better?"

"Good."

He was doing that annoying pride thing that guys do, the whole stick out your chest and grin cheekily. When will boys ever learn that girls hate it when they do that? He was soon over it, though. His hand came up to gently grasp my chin, and he turned my face from the right to the left. This wasn't a pleasurable experience. His eyes were focused on something and it made me feel like I was under examination.

Before I could ask him what the deal was, he said, "You're face is lookin' better. The swellin' is down a lot. Does it still hurt?"

"A bit, but not really. Just a bruise."

"Yea, it'll be that way for a while. So get used to it."

"I know."

"Listen here, Girlie. I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told Johnnycake. I'm makin' it my personal mission to get the guys that did this to you. Aint nobody gonna hurt you while I'm around, got it? You or Johnny."

His face masked seriousness, a fierce mask of determination and protection. The only time I've ever seen Dallas with this look was when we found Johnny in that vacant lot. I've seen flashes of it dance across his face with the rest of the gang, but they were passing glimpses. Burned out too quickly to name. I was shocked and didn't know what to say to this Dally- the Dally reserved for Johnny- ,so I merely nodded. Having someone like Dallas around to watch your back is surprisingly a good thing.

Suddenly, I was pushed on my back. The movement made my stomach jump and I fought the urge to gag. His fingers left my face to travel down my neck, skimming breezily against my collarbone. Again, I was confused. Dally's eyes were still scanning me, only this time there was amusement swirling mischievously in them. His fingers continued their little search, and when they lightly traced the edge of my bra, they stopped.

"Dal, what are you doin'?"

"Admiring the handiwork."

"Huh?"

"You're gonna have to be careful with what you dress in for a couple of days, maybe a week. Unless, of course, ya want your brothers to find out what 'bad girl' things you've been up to. Personally, I wouldn't want that happening if I were you."

It took all my energy to look down, and when I did my eyes widened. "Good gravy, Dallas! What did you do to me?" There were small reddish-purple marks spotting along the expanse of my collarbone and tops of my breasts. I inwardly blushed, thinking about the lips that were there, in such private places. I was right, I did bruise from last night. I knew I would, I bruise easier than anyone else I know. Then again, everyone else I know are tough Greaser boys.

"Don't pretend you didn't like it, Curtis." Dally's smug voice cut through my thoughts.

"I didn't say I didn't."

"Oh, really?" He laid on top of me gently. I didn't know if I liked it yet or not. But he was warm, and that was good enough.

"It's not fair, though."

"What ain't fair?"

"Look at me! I look like I have some sorta disease or somethin'."

"It ain't like you didn't leave your mark on me, either, Little Girl."

A mark? I'm sure that wasn't what I was trying to do, I thought indignantly. It was my turn to search him, looking first at the places I knew my lips spent most of their time. It didn't surprise me, then, that the first place my eyes went were to his lips. I gulped and quickly averted my attention elsewhere. There were three marks on him: 2 on this neck, right below the ear, and 1 on his chest, where I noticed his deepest scar. I didn't do that, did I? I mean, I have no idea where I got the courage. My throbbing head told me I didn't have to wonder anymore. Alcohol is a dangerous thing, indeed.

Dear Lord, I gave hickeys to Dallas Winston!

I tried to sound indifferent. "Yea, but…I have more than you, so, it's like I said. Not fair." I didn't care that it was a stupid thing to say, I was trying to keep conversation going. I hated awkward silences.

He didn't hear what I had said. He didn't care. "Uh-huh." Those small mumblings were lost in the tangles of my messed up hair, this being because he had his head buried in the pillow next to my neck. I could feel his warm breath on my shoulder as his hand played with the strap of my bra. I stiffened. This wasn't what I wanted to be happening right now. Not at all. But I didn't know what to say, even as his lips and tongue started toying with my already bruised flesh. I should have known better-girls don't just lie half-naked in bed with Dallas without this sort of thing happening. Again.

I tried not to think about it too much, partly because I wasn't sure what to make out of the situation; the other part being that my head felt like it was going to blow up at any moment, shattering this warped up reality and not have any mercy on me or Dally. When he tugged at the bottom of my lip I was surprised, but I responded out of instinct. I wasn't gonna lie to myself. I wasn't gonna say that I didn't enjoy him as he plundered my mouth. I like it. It was true, I could tell by the hot flush that followed his hand as it moved to cup my breast. Nausea singed the back of my throat, but I continued to ignore it. But something was wrong with this, what was happening. My body, no matter how aroused, was still stiff with discomfort. My eyes crinkled. Something was bubbling up inside of me, a banished concern or lingering knowledge. It was telling me what I knew all along: I wasn't ready for this. I didn't want to have sex anymore, I'm just not ready. I'm only fifteen.

I'm only fifteen!

A lump grew in my throat at an incredibly fast rate, mutated by the panic I was now feeling. I could almost literally feel the color drain from my face as bile corrupted my taste buds. I pushed at Dally's shoulders as I attempted to sit up.

He looked down into my face, shifting back a little more at what he saw. "You okay?"

I closed my eyes and held my breath, uselessly tying to break up the lump that blocked my throat. "No." I sat up quickly, holding my hand over my mouth as a wave of sickness hit me. "Bathroom?"

"Next door on the left."

I jumped up quickly, hoping to hop over Dallas but only succeeding in stepping on his stomach. He grunted loudly, but I was sick and my mind was being selfish, concerning itself with only my needs, which, at this moment, is a toilet.

It should have been terrifying to be anywhere near one of Buck's restrooms, but right now, it was a strange balm. I clutched the edges of the light green toilet after I had finished, leaning my forehead against the seat while the coolness soothed my aching head. This is pathetic.

If Darry could see me, now...

Darry! Sodapop. I forgot about my brothers. Johnnycake... 'Oh, Johnny,' I thought, 'I'm sorry.' Images of my best friend came unbidden to the forefront of my conscience, stirring a guilt that I had never felt before. I would rather live the rest of my life in front of this toilet, puking my guts out, then have to see Johnny's face like it was last night. His black eyes were swollen with a hurt that knocked the breath out of me. I wish I knew why it was there. I'm not a total idiot, I know he was upset about Tim. What I can't figure out, is why. He doesn't like me. I mean, he cant! Right?

Would it be so bad if he did?

"Get outta the floor, Girlie."

I didn't realize I had laid down until Dallas' voice shattered my half-asleep musings. It's a good thing he did. Who knows where that train of thought would have led? I didn't get up, though. I couldn't, my body didn't want me to. So, I rolled over and moaned. Looking towards where Dally stood by the sink, I said, "Washcloth."

He was about to protest, but then I felt a sudden pain in my stomach and my eyes clenched, revealing my discomfort. He grumbled out a series of swear words then proceeded to walk out of the bathroom. Dally came back soon enough with a tattered rag in his hands. He turned on the faucet, drenching and ringing the rag as roughly as he could, letting me know he would rather be doing something else. It was all an act, though, I knew. The cigarette he had held between his lips was flicked unceremoniously into the gross bowl I had recently mistreated, before Dally flushed it all away. I looked up at him as he came near, squatting to reach me better. He sighed and shook his head, moving my hair from my face as he pressed the wet rag against my biting skin.

"I need to go home." My voice was hoarse and barely a whisper, but he heard me.

"Like this?"

I was silent.

"Thought not." He lifted the rag to his side opposite of me, swinging it around to get it colder before replacing it. "Come on. Let's get you back to bed. You gotta sleep this off."

I actually whimpered. "No. I can't move."

He rolled his eyes. "Right." Then he told me to hold the rag unless I wanted to leave it here and put his arms underneath my legs and back. I grasped the rag, but held on to Dallas as he carried me back to bed . I was asleep before I ever touched the mattress.

The next day I laid next to Johnny on cold grass as we watched the clouds breeze by. The sky was calm and undisturbed with little flashes of sun that would peek out from between tree braches. We have been laying here for awhile now, and up until this point I had been quiet.

I had come here with something to say, though, so I was going to say it.

"Johnny have you ever had sex?"

I could almost feel the sudden movement of his head snapping to look at my face- I just knew him too well. Slowly, I turned my eyes to meet his. His mouth was gaping like a fish desperate for water and his face was flushed. It was the most precious combination of red and tan that I had ever seen. Eventually, he closed his mouth, but his eyes were still wide with the sudden unexpectancy of my question.

He's so cute, I thought with just a little bit of guilt.

"I know that was a weird question, Johnnycakes, but, it's just…we've never talked about it before." My hand found his and I squeezed it slightly, offering him reassurance. I couldn't bring myself to let go of his hand, to leave it alone on the hard, cold ground the same way I left him the other night. "You can tell me. You know that." I paused for an uncertain moment. "Don't ya?"

He nodded quickly. "Of course, I know that. That was...that was just a sudden question, is all. Ya took me for a loop."

I grinned faintly. "I guess." I hated to push him, but I tend to rush through things when I get nervous. "Well?"

Johnny huffed and looked away with embarrassment, that color I now found so endearing making an appearance. "Not since Sylvia."

I was shocked. "Wait. What?" My hand had unconsciously held his tighter.

"I didn't mean it like that! Me and..and..Sylvia...we never..." He trailed off there, too flustered to finish. " I meant, after that talk with Steve."

"Then who?" A large part of me cared.

He shrugged. "I had just got in a fight with my old man. He kicked me out and you guys were up state visiting your aunt or somethin', so I wandered around a bit. Do you remember that girl Curly introduced me to?"

I grunted. "The bleached-blonde with a groping problem? She was all into you for awhile. Yea, I remember."

"Well, she was at the Knightly Double. We were in the back, where no one could see us. Well...one thing lead to another and...and when she took me behind the bleachers..."He was stuttering so bad I felt sorry for him. "At the time, I just wanted to see if it was everythin' that Dal said, ya know?"

At the mention of Dallas I mentally cringed. I remembered the girls telling me about sex and the way I felt at the time. "Yea, I know." I knew more than you would think, Johnnybabe.

I wanted to shout! The one person I could talk to about last night, I couldn't ever tell. Johnny worshiped Dallas. If he ever found out it would crush him. I decided right there that I would suffer in silence . I wouldn't do that to Johnny. I wouldn't do that to us.

His voice was a whisper when he spoke, again. "Are you mad at me? Please tell me if you're mad, Girlie."

I felt tears of shame burn my soul before falling from my eyes. I'm such a slut! Before I could think, I wrapped my arms around him, laying on top of him, holding my best and most truest friend. I'm the worst person in the world.

"No. I could never be mad at you, Johnny."

"Hey, now! What's this all about? All these tears?"

"I'm terrible."

"No." His voice was so serious it shocked me. "No, you're not. Is this about Tim?" I didn't say anything, just rolled so that I wasn't suffocating him anymore. "Girlie, why did you do that, at Buck's?"

I panicked. How did he find out? "What?"

"The..the thing with Tim."

I was shamefully relieved, and just as shamefully I lied to him. " I dunno. Same reason you did, I guess."

He only nodded, then changed the subject. "How did you make it home?"

"Dallas." I had walked through the door around 4 o'clock in the afternoon, a mess. Sodapop was there. He had taken the day off cause he was worried about me. He asked me where I was and I lied. Well, actually, Dallas lied, told him that I got sick and passed out on Buck's couch, but me going along with it was just as bad. Soda was mad, madder than I had ever seen him. But he told me he took up for me when I didn't show last night. Soda had apparently told Darry that I called and said I was staying over at Angela's. That night Soda didn't hold me. That hurt. Bad.

"Will you promise me somethin'?" Johnny's voice interrupted.

Anything. "Sure."

His tan face lost that nervous glint that ruined the sweetness of his features, and instead donned a thoughtful, serious understanding. I don't care what anyone says, Johnny Cade is not dumb. "Promise me that you won't end up like the other girls."

Black eyes bore into my green-grey ones. My heart stopped at his words. It was too late for that, wasn't it? "I dunno what you mean." Why did I say that? Why can't my mouth just obey me?

"You're different. Better than anyone else. They ain't worth nothin', Girlie, but you...It's not like that with you. You mean somethin', speacial like. You're just not like them."

I died a little.

"Yes I am."

A/N: Again...the book will start to tie in either the next chapter or the one after that.

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