Today was a different day for Cherry. She didn't know what made it different, or how she felt any different; it was just a different day. It was Sunday, and Cherry had plans to meet up with her fellow Soc friends. Cherry rode with Marcia to the bowling alley to meet with the rest of the group. Once they had arrived, they saw two of their girlfriends from school that they were planning to meet. Michelle, who always acted so reckless among others, waved them over. Cherry had always admired Michelle, mainly for her carelessness toward what other people felt about her. In fact, she was sort of like Dallas in that way, which was probably why Cherry and her were such great friends. The other girl, her name was Sophia. She was a little more collected than Michelle was, but for some reason they were the perfect match as friends. They balanced each other out.

"Well well well, if it isn't the princess and the pea." Michelle laughed, as each of the girls exchanged hugs.

"Have you seen the boys yet?" Sophia asked. Marcia and Cherry shook their heads.

"They'll be here," Cherry assured. It was very often that the group had get-togethers like these. Cherry loved them, but she felt slightly different on this particular day, especially after being able to compare it to an event such as last night.

And Cherry was right; after about one minute, the boys started trailing in as a group. For some reason, however, they looked upset. All of the girls began to notice, because it wasn't like them to walk in with so much tension, and so silently, for that matter. Usually you could tell when they were near, because the room would start filling with sounds of chuckling and yelling.

"What's wrong with them?" asked Marcia. They were soon about to find out.

The group of five Soc boys walked up to them, about three of them sat down. The two remaining walked over and stood next to Cherry.

One of the boys standing, Mike, who was the new 'leader' of the pack ever since Bob's passing, said: "Cherry, is it true?"

The girls looked around, then at Cherry. They all had this puzzled look on their faces. Marcia, however, began to realize that she might have known what this was about. Cherry knew, too. But she didn't budge. She replied with a simple, "Is what true?"

"Don't play dumb," Mike added, "you went on a date with that Dallas Winston last night." The air was suddenly filled with silence. Michelle's jaw dropped, and Sophia's eyes widened. The boys continued to stare in waiting for Cherry's reaction. See, in a typical Soc's point of view, if you acted against one group member, you acted against all group members. In this case, Cherry going with a greaser almost immediately after Bob's passing was seen as betrayal to the Soc's as a whole.

"Yes, I did. Is that wrong?" Cherry replied.

"Is that wrong? Are you serious right now, Cherry?" Mike raised his voice. Another voice began to protest, "Not just any greaser, Cherry...But Dallas? Are you out of your mind?" Cherry already grew to be very annoyed and upset at this point.

She snapped back, "So? What harm has he done to me? He didn't kill Bob."

"It doesn't matter. He's always involved."

"Well then screw you, Mike."

Marcia smiled when Cherry said this. Michelle began to speak, "Look, Cherry, I'm all about love and equality and all that fun stuff, but Mike's got a point. I don't want to hear one day that this boy has been hurting you."

Cherry shuttered at the sound of this. She knew that she had been afraid of him hurting her before as well, but for some reason she just did not want to care anymore. "I know. But I'm fine, and he is too." she responded.

"Yeah, well he won't be so fine after tonight." Mike smirked with his smarty-attitude. "After tonight, he's gunna regret even looking at you."

"You stay the hell away from him, Mike!" Cherry snapped back. Cherry kept thinking to herself, He has no right to do this.

The boys began to all stand up, as if they were about to leave.

"Look, there's nothing you can do to stop this Cherry. So the best thing there is to do, is just stay away from that worthless piece of shit, and we'll do the rest." Mike and the rest of the gang headed out towards the exit.

"Wait, where are you guys going? Hello?" Sophia yelled.

Mike turned to reply, "Look, we just wanted to come to try and reason with you. But if this is how it's going to be, then that's how it will be." Cherry was shaken with fury. She hated being controlled like that. The Soc's didn't own her. She even said it herself, she said it to Dallas; she played on both teams. Cherry did have the word "Soc" printed on her forehead.

As the girls watched them all leave the bowling alley, they began to comfort her.

"Cherry, I'm sorry hun. I didn't know this was going on, you should have told us." Michelle voiced calmly.

"She would have, but it only just happened." Marcia explained. She was the only one other than Cherry that knew what she was going through. And the crazy thing was, no one had even mentioned or protested against the fact that Marcia was going out with Two-Bit. He was a greaser, too.

After Marcia and Cherry had told the girls all about what had been going on, including Marcia liking Two-Bit, everyone gained a better understanding. But no matter how much or how little they all knew, they all knew one thing: there was going to be a fight tonight, no matter what.

"If it happens," Cherry suddenly spoke aloud to herself for the girls to hear, "whether they like it or not, Dallas will win."

Dallas was at a nearby gas station buying a new pack of cigarets, when suddenly Two-Bit came running towards him.

"Hey, Dal!" he shouted while running. He slowed down and stopped right in front of Dallas, who was just walking out of the gas station.

"Dal, I've been lookin' all over for you. Look, some Soc's are looking for trouble." he explained.

"Yeah?" Dallas replied. But Two-Bit could tell that Dallas wasn't really understanding what he meant, because he continued saying, "When aren't those damn rats looking for trouble?" as he blew smoke through his teeth.

Two-Bit rephrased his words, "No, Dal. They're looking for trouble with you." Dallas paused, then leaned forward with an eye brow raised. He wondered what they had wanted from him now.

"Probably has somethin' to do with Johnny, man. Look, I'll handle it just let me-"

"No, it's got somethin' to do with Cherry." Two-Bit continued to explain.

Dallas stopped in his tracks. This angered him, a lot. He immediately knew what this was about. But if they were so concerned with Cherry seeing a greaser, then why weren't they anywhere near as upset about Marcia seeing Two-Bit? Dallas suddenly possessed the urge to pound all of those Soc's faces in. He was mad. He had come to realization that this was not only a fight for the blood of a greaser; this was a fight for Cherry.

"Dally, whenever you need me man, I'm there. I'll be comin' with you all hungry for them sons a' bitches!" Two-Bit exclaimed with a pat on Dallas' back. Two-Bit ran over to three other greasers that were passing in trying to buy cigarets. Dallas smiled, watching Two-Bit run around, prancing like a maniac screaming, "YEEEEEHAW!"

With his short and sweet chuckle, Dallas yelled, "It's gunna be a rumble tonight, boys!"

Word began to spread around town that the rumble was to take place at the top of Westford Hill. It was around eleven o'clock at night, and the town had never looked so empty. Dallas drove his car over to the bottom of the hill, and parked. He was alone, only because he wanted to fight this alone. Dallas believed that if he was the problem, and if he was the reason these Soc's were looking for a fight, then he would arrive and fight alone. Dallas never wanted others to clean up his mess. He carried a six-inch foldout knife in his jacket, just in case. But the last thing he wanted to deal with was another dead Soc.

He walked up the steep hill, and all he could think about was Cherry. He thought of the other Soc guys touching her, he thought up anything that could make him mean. Finally, he thought of Mike's face, and he was disgusted by it. As he made his way up to the top of the hill, he saw car lights flashing; it was the Soc's. He could hear the cackling and mumbling of them, hiding behind their lights.

"Are you gunna show yourselves?" Dallas yelled over from about ten yards away. "Or are you gunna stay hidden and start touching each other in your car?"

Finally, Mike stepped out of the car, and the rest followed. As the rest of the crew stayed behind, in the shadows, Mike walked towards Dallas. Dallas just stood in place, watching Mike inch closer and closer. This fuckin' kid, he thought to himself, probably can't even throw a punch. Mike was, in fact, a bit stiff looking to be a fighter. He didn't look like he had ever fought anyone in his life. Finally, Mike stopped in his place, standing two feet away from Dallas with both arms at his side.

"Will it just be you and me then, Dallas?"

"What's the problem, Officer Tough Guy?" Dallas joked.

"I'm afraid you're my problem, grease. I don't think you understand, but Cherry is with us." Mike responded with his smart tone.

Dallas walked a few steps closer to him, while chuckling. Then, with a wise-ass smirk on his face, he sighed, "Well you should've warned her bout' that before she asked me to buy her a drink."

And with that, Dallas threw in the first punch, right into Mike's face. He punched, and punched, and punched, and continued to punch him as he hovered on top of him, throwing punches left and right. This only continued until he heard a group of howls and screams running toward him. This was unfair. This was to only be a fight between Mike and Dallas, not Dallas and five upset preps from the suburbs. He tried to fight them off; he tried to fight them all off. He turned around and punched one boy in the nose, but someone then kneed Dallas in the stomach. Once Dallas was on the ground, another started punching him to the floor, Dallas grabbed his shoulders and flipped him over, so that now he was hovering over him. But there were too many fighting him at once. Clearly, Dallas could take on anybody with confidence, but the others would just move too quickly, and there were too many of them. After several grabs, punches and kicks, Dallas had ended up somehow injuring three of the Soc's, including Mike. He reached over to grab the second to last Soc, and started hitting him to the ground, not giving him a single break. But just as Dallas turned around to finish off the other Soc, he was slammed in the head with a cracked piece of cement. It was the last remaining Soc; he had lifted up some demolished rock off the ground and hit Dallas on the side of his head with it. And for a split second, Dallas could not see straight. He could only see figures moving off the ground, and into the car. He could only hear faint noises of different voices saying, "C'mon, it's over! It's over!" and "He's hurt, man, Mike's hurt."

When Dallas gathered himself once again, he thought, screw this. Any Soc is a dead Soc. He took out his knife, and stabbed it right into the same exact Soc that slammed his head with a rock. The Soc screamed, and the rest of the gang could see that he was bleeding out of his arm. Quickly, and without even looking Dallas in the eye, they grabbed the Soc and carried him to the car, and then drove off. Dallas was fuming. He couldn't believe that he had let some stupid Soc hit him like that. Walking crookedly, he stumbled down the hill, straight to his car. Then he began to just sit there, and think. He didn't even know where to go. His head tingled from the puncture caused by the cement, but he could hardly even realize this only because of how furious he was. He was, however, glad that he finished those damn Soc's.

Dallas was trying to think of where he could possibly go. He could maybe go visit Two-Bit, and brag about what had just happened. He could go visit Ponyboy, or Johnny. No, he couldn't, that would probably rattle him up even more. He sat in silence, lit up a cigaret, and reclined his seat back. As he laid back, eyes closed, he tried to calm himself of all of the emotions he had conjured up during the fight. When his eyes opened, he was surprised to see something that had looked awfully familiar to him, that he usually never noticed.

It was the moon. As he stared into the moon, and all of its light and glow, he got an idea. He reclined his seat back to position, started up the car, and began to drive. He knew where he wanted to go.