Cherry had numerous amounts of thoughts running through her mind; thoughts about Dallas, thoughts about who she was. Cherry wasn't the girl who let anyone hurt her. Not emotionally, and definitely not physically. But Dallas did hurt her, emotionally and physically. And to think that someone like Dallas could easily walk into her life and break both of her rules like this, it drove her crazy. Not in a good way, like the way Dallas used to drive her crazy with his confusing signals.
Cherry had hated the fact that the one time she had the one opportunity to put herself out there and resist from distancing herself from another boy, this had to happen. She had to get hurt the first time. She hated the thought of Dallas with his smirk, and his chuckle, and the way he blew smoke. She hated the way he walked, the way he narrowed his eyes, the way he smiled, the way he ran his hands through her hair. She hated the face on him as she looked up at him from the floor, when he had just hit her; so heartbroken and fake, so pathetic. And his long leather jacket. she hated that, too. And his necklace.
His necklace. She was still wearing the necklace. His stupid, stupid necklace. She touched the pendant object that draped around her small neck, and as she held it tightly, she thought back to when he had first hung it around her. She envisioned him leaning close towards her, giving her the necklace from his neck, along with his trust. Yeah, so much for that Cherry had thought. Dallas didn't deserve to be worn around Cherry's neck. Angrily, she took it off and threw it on her dresser.
At this time, Cherry was all bandaged up on her cheeks and arms. When the ambulance came, she had thought that a neighbor called complaining about noise. Maybe someone had heard the argument from next door and suspected it was violence. But Cherry had soon found out that she was wrong. She remembered hearing one paramedic telling her, "A call came in from what seemed to be a young teenaged boy, and he stated that there was an accident here. Would you mind telling us what happened?"
Cherry did not know why, but she refused to tell the truth. Instead, she shook her head and spoke softly, "Oh, yes, I'm not quite sure what happened. I was talking to my friend, he was the one that called you, and I became drowsy." She glanced over towards the other paramedic, who was wrapping a bandage around her arm. She continued, "And suddenly, I had tripped and fallen right onto one of those shelves over there. He panicked and wanted to call an ambulance, but he didn't know where the phone was."
Cherry couldn't quite grasp the reason as to why she had lied for Dallas. She thought to herself that maybe she was embarrassed, or perhaps too ashamed of letting a boy hurt her like that. It was not that she was lying for Dallas; she was lying for herself. Now, two days had passed, and Cherry was sitting in her bedroom. With all of these thoughts running through her head, she began to lay down in her bed and cry. She could no longer bare even looking at herself in a mirror, because all she could see was a fool. Just like she had called herself the very first time she had thought of Dallas, a stupid fool.
For some reason, Cherry grew the urge to talk to someone, anyone. She sat up, picked up the phone, and dialed Marcia's number. Marcia was the only one she knew would understand. She knew that Marcia would never be the one to say "I told you so." She wasn't like that.
"Hello?" Marcia answered.
"Ma-Marcia?" Cherry responded softly.
"Cherry! I heard you had an accident, are you okay?"
Of course at this time, Marcia had only known that Cherry was hurt. She was not aware of the cause of this accident.
"Yes, well, no. I don't know, that's why I wanted to call you." Cherry sniffed between her words, and Marcia softened her voice as she had come to realization that Cherry was crying.
"Oh Cherry, please talk to me. Tell me what's wrong?"
"It was Dallas, Marcia."
Marcia did not respond. There was a long pause, and then Marcia finally spoke up, "Wha-what?"
"It was Dallas. Dallas hit me. Please, please do not tell anyone."
Marcia could not believe what she had heard. She immediately grew sympathy for Cherry, and wanted to help with everything she had.
"Oh my gosh. Are, are you okay? Do you need something? Do you want someone to talk to you, or him?" Marcia asked.
"No, no no. It's just…" Cherry could hardly finish her sentence. Her words felt cold and slow. It became too hard to swallow. Finally, she continued, "The thing that hurts the most is knowing how worthless I must be to him. I feel like a put so much work into nothing. Absolutely nothing."
Dallas had tried calling Cherry's house several times throughout each day. He left voicemails, and then called again, and again, and again.
"Cherry, please, I need to talk to you. Please." he'd leave on her voicemail. He drove by her house each morning, hoping that he'd run into her. Finally, after about a week, he knew that it was hopeless. Cherry had no plans set to ever see or talk to Dallas again.
"So then why aren't you with Cherry no more Dal?" Ponyboy asked as he sat down on the arm of a chair in Dallas' room. Dallas, Ponyboy and Johnny were in Dallas' bedroom. After mentioning it to the guys, the two couldn't help but want to ask Dallas for more detail.
"God damn it, I told you Pony, it's complicated. Aight?" Dallas sounded irritated. He hated even saying the words to himself. I hit Cherry. He couldn't think of it, and even when he tried, he definitely couldn't say it. Johnny asked with gentle concern, "What, d'you guys get into some sort of banter with each other? C'mon, you can tell us anythin' Dal. Honest."
"Jesus Christ-" Dallas stood up.
"Alright, alright." Ponyboy lifted his arms up with caution, looking up at Dallas. "It's cool."
Dallas paused as he looked down at Ponyboy, then at Johnny. He walked over to his dresser and opened it. As he began rummaging through his drawers in search of a clean shirt, he began to think. He felt an enormous amount of guilt, building a brick wall inside of his chest. He almost felt as if he could fall to the floor from not being able to carry the weight of his heavy heart. And finally, he knew. He knew he had to tell someone. Cherry did not deserve this; Dallas deserved to be known for what he had done to the girl.
He grabbed one of his shirts, and after a long, quiet pause forming as he changed clothes, he sat down on his bed. He leaned forward, allowing the weight of his elbows to land on his knees, holding his head. He took a few moments to gather his thoughts, ruffled his hand through his hair, and bit the bullet.
"I hit her. I hit Cherry."
Silence filled the room so fast, and Dallas could feel the other two glaring at him as he continued to stare into his lap. Ponyboy allowed his eyebrows to sink, he was mad; no, he was furious. Ever since Ponyboy had met Cherry, he had always had a soft spot for her. He had already gotten over the fact that she was in love with Dallas by now, but this, this was the last straw for him. Ponyboy couldn't help but think to himself, Never would I ever abuse such a sweet girl like Cherry. Ponyboy would never hit a girl at all. The minute he heard this, he stood up from his chair.
"You what?" he raised his voice. Johnny quickly got up and placed his hands on Ponyboy's shoulders.
"Hey, hey c'mon now. Let's take it easy." Johnny calmed Ponyboy down.
Dallas looked up, only to see how upset Ponyboy was. "No, Johnny I mean he's right, man. I don't know what the fuck's been goin' on with me, man. But I can't shake this." Dallas continued as he got up and walked back to his dresser and looked himself in the mirror.
Ponyboy had realized that there was no use in fighting Dallas, because he had agreed with him, which was not something that he was necessarily expecting from Dallas. If this were the normal Dallas talking, he would have responded with something such as, What'd you say to me? or You getting wise with me now?.
Ponyboy and Johnny watched the back of Dallas, as Dallas continued to stand at his dresser looking down. Then, they heard something that Dallas had muttered in a lowered voice.
"It was like it wasn't even her that I was hitting. It's like-it's like something triggered in me or somethin', you know? And now everything's screwed up. I screwed everythin' up."
"Have you tried making amends? Talking to her?" Johnny asked.
"Nah, she won't talk to me. And why would she wanna, anyway?" Dallas said. His voice made him sound like he had never felt so bummed. Cherry was the one and only girl that Dallas had ever felt like this for, and now it was ruined. "Fuckin' blew it." Dallas continued to mutter to himself. His hands clenched into fists. He continued to look down at his hands, which were now pressed against the top of his dresser. He then looked up at the mirror in front of him. He was disgusted; just seeing the image of his own wretched self. He saw nothing but a monster.
"Fuck!" Dallas screamed, and then punched his fist into the mirror in front of him.
Ponyboy and Johnny flinched at the sound of the mirror shattering. Startled by such noise, they both stood up and looked at each other, signaling towards one another with their eyes of what they should do. They didn't know whether to help Dallas, or to let him be. They knew that Dallas had never wanted help from anyone else, and they were right. Dallas always insisted on fixing his own problems, which was mostly the reason why he had never found the need to explain to anyone else how he felt.
Dallas had punched and broken his mirror several times, then threw the frame to the floor. His knuckles began to bleed, but he couldn't feel a thing. He only felt anger. He walked with a fast pace towards his bedroom door, as Ponyboy and Johnny continued to look at him.
"What's goin' on? Are we gettin' outta this place, or what?" Dallas asked the both of them with a frustrated tone. He slammed open his door and walked down the stairs. Johnny looked at Ponyboy, and they collectively both proceeded to get up and catch up with Dallas.
Marcia took Cherry out for lunch one day at the Dingo. Cherry had previously refused to tag along with Marcia when visiting Two-Bit, only because she didn't want to find herself running into Dallas anytime soon. Marcia, of course, understood. What Cherry didn't know, however, was that they were also meeting Michelle at the Dingo as well. Michelle was the last person that Cherry wanted to see, she was not ready for interrogation. In fact, she wanted the whole thing to be over with, the whole 'Dallas thing'. The quicker it flew by, the faster Cherry could get on with her life; the faster she could move forward, or at least try to.
As the two of them walked inside, they could see Michelle in the far corner, waiting to welcome them. Michelle possessed a worrying look upon her face as she stood up from the booth while watching the two walk in. As they approached the booth, Michelle immediately grabbed Cherry for a hug.
"Cherry, baby. Are you okay? How have you been?" she said with a sweet and assuring voice. However, it wasn't so assuring for Cherry. She knew Michelle, and only she could tell that Michelle didn't mean a word she said.
"I'm fine. I'm just trying to forget about it, I mean it's over." Cherry responded after pulling away. The three of the girls sat down, and Michelle made sure that she sat directly across from Cherry, so she couldn't take an eye off of her. Cherry was beginning to feel bothered after noticing that Michelle had been glaring at her arms. She wished that she would at least had the decency to keep out of other people's business and learn to occupy herself with something else.
After having a surprisingly normal conversation, Michelle excused herself to go to the restroom. She was getting slightly annoyed of how oblivious and naive Cherry had seemed to have been acting, and she felt almost as if she were about to burst. As she walked over to the restroom, taking her time, she noticed a group of greasers getting ready to walk into the restaurant. But there was one greaser in particular that she had her eye on.
The greaser's walk had a certain stern hop to it. He walked with purpose, like he had a place to go. He had two greasers following slightly behind him, and he walked with one hand in his pocket, and one holding a cigaret. You could've guessed it yourself, it was Dallas Winston. Here he was, the Dallas Winston, coming into the Dingo with his two pals, Ponyboy and Johnny. Michelle stopped in her place, jaw dropped to the floor, as she eyed the three waltzing through the doorway.
Dallas came in through the door with only food on his mind. Although, he still could not shake the thought of Cherry. Ponyboy took a whiff of the place and sighed, "Sure smells good in here, I'm starved."
Johnny laughed, "You better believe it, Pony. Feel like I haven't eaten in days." The three continued to walk towards the menu stand, when Johnny suddenly made a small discovery while eying around the place.
"Hey, isn't that Marcia?" Johnny asked. Ponyboy and Dallas quickly turned their heads to look towards the direction that Johnny was looking. Dallas narrowed his eyes, and then froze. He could faintly see Marcia, however his eyes shifted slightly to the right, and there she sat. Cherry, who was sitting and talking right next to Marcia, was right in Dallas' sight. Dallas continued to stare, he couldn't move.
He could see her smiling, laughing. She was laughing. She was happy. Was Cherry already over Dallas? He couldn't help but wonder this to himself. He could feel a heavy anchor weighing down his chest as he continued to watch her. He could see her scratches from where he was standing, and it broke his heart. But the fact that Cherry was already moving forward, just like her normal, tough self; it made Dallas think. This girl ain't no regular, Dallas thought. Cherry was strong, and she didn't need anyone by her side. Not Dallas, not anyone. And that was what made Dallas feel sort of sad inside. He could tell that she no longer needed him. The only problem was, he needed her.
"I'm gonna talk to her. You guys find a place to sit, alright?" Dallas said to the boys, without taking his eyes off of Cherry. He began to walk toward Cherry's table, when suddenly he felt a pull at his arm. The pull whipped him around, only for him to notice that it was Michelle who had grabbed onto him.
"The hell's a matter with you?" Dallas snapped as he pulled his arm back. Michelle stared back at him with evil eyes.
"Uh-uh. You're not getting anywhere near that girl." she snapped back.
Dallas opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. Who was this girl? He looked back at Cherry, then back at her. Finally, he spoke once again.
"What are you, a friend of her's or somethin'?" he responded. Michelle did not want Cherry seeing Dallas anywhere near at this time, so she nodded her head towards the door, and they both walked outside of the restaurant.
The two of them walked around the back, and finally stopped by a large, abandoned dumpster. Dallas leaned against the side of a fence nearby, and Michelle stood directly in front of him.
"So, so how is she?" Dallas asked.
Michelle glared at him like he was stupid. "How's who?" she said. There was a slight pause, and Dallas' eyes looked left and right like he was confused of what she had meant by 'that girl.' Was she even talking about Cherry? Was she even Cherry's friend? Who the hell is this broad? he thought to himself.
Michelle sarcastically continued, "Oh, you mean Cherry? The chick you smashed into a fucking glass shelf? Oh, yeah, she's doing great. She's ecstatic. How are you, dumb fuck?"
Dallas wanted to slap this girl silly for what she had just called him. But he knew that she was right, he knew he deserved to be called every word in the book. Chances are, it wouldn't even be enough punishment for what he had done to poor Cherry. Instead, Dallas gave a slight nod as he blew out smoke from his cigaret.
"Will you let me talk to her?" he continued.
She immediately responded with a cold, "No." Dallas was becoming a little annoyed. He didn't need permission from some friend of a friend, especially to talk to the girl he had fallen in love with.
"Well who the fuck are you to say anything? I'm talkin' to her. See ya." he tossed his cigaret over to the dumpster, and walked off back towards the entrance to the restaurant. Michelle quickly followed behind.
Dallas rushed over to the entrance, and walked inside. He walked towards Cherry's table, when Cherry had suddenly noticed Dallas coming near. Her smile turned into a closed mouth, frozen glare. She could not believe what she was seeing. After a week without neither speaking nor seeing Dallas, it was so strange to see his face so sudden like this. She looked away, immediately avoiding eye contact. But before she knew it, she could see the fuzzy image of Dallas hovering beside her table from the corner of her eye.
He just stood there, like he had no clue what to do or say. And he didn't. He had never planned this. Instead, he just softly spoke the words that could easily come to mind.
"I need to talk to you." he said. Cherry heart beater faster as she heard his voice. This was that last thing that she had wanted. All Cherry wanted to do was forget, and move on. But why did Dallas have to make it so hard? Why did Cherry still want to be able to love Dallas?
Finally, she became so fed up with the situation. She got up, and walked out of the restaurant, taking her purse along with her. She assumed that Dallas would follow closely behind, and they could speak to each other in private. And he did. He walked behind her, and the two once again walked out of the restaurant. Cherry, without looking at Dallas, continued to walk further and further away from The Dingo, until they had both crossed the street and continued towards the park. Cherry finally stopped and sat down at the fountain, where Bob was killed. She placed her purse gently into her lap, then looked down at it. She became uncomfortable with the way it sat, and then moved it beside her.
Dallas could sense how uncomfortable she was, so he continued to stand in front of her, watching her. The silence became so hard to sit through, and the two began to occupy themselves with their own thoughts. But, no matter how hard they had tried, the two could no longer think at all. They both just continued to bask in the silence, and the strange thing was that neither of them had minded it.
Dallas looked down, and slowly sat next to her. He looked down into his lap, occasionally allowing his eyes to wander towards hers, then back to his. "Are you going to talk?" Cherry asked, as she stared into her lap. Dallas' heart raced. He looked at Cherry, at her face. At her cheeks. He had never felt so nervous in his entire life. He found it sort of funny, in a way; out of all people who were never able to make Dallas sweat once, a sweet little girl like Cherry was the one to finally make him slip.
Finally, he looked her in the eyes and said, "What I did the other day…" he could barely finish his sentence, because all he could see were the scars on Cherry's arms, and the scratch on her cheek. He noticed her soft, pale skin, and he wondered how he could ever hurt something so soft and frail, so delicate. He wanted to touch it. But he knew that Cherry would never let him touch her again, not after what he did. He continued, "What I did the other day was not me. I wasn't myself. I just…I just slipped, Cherry. With everything happening with Shelby, and her getting in between us, and your friends, and me. I just lost control of everything."
Cherry looked at him closely, she couldn't help but feel that Dallas was telling the truth. For one thing, Dallas would never go this far to apologize for anyone. Not anyone at all. Secondly, Dallas never felt guilty for hitting or hurting anyone. To see Dallas breaking these life-long rules of his; it wasn't like him. But Cherry didn't budge yet.
"Do you even remotely realize what you did?" she spoke up. Dallas immediately responded, "Yes, Cherry I really do. I really do, and I would give up anything just to know that you understand what I'm sayin'."
"And what are you saying?" she snapped.
Dallas paused, and then continued, "I'm saying that I love you, and, and that I'm sorry. That's all."
"Do you know how hard it was for me to gain the confidence in trusting you like this, Dally? Do you know how hard it is for me to give my trust to anyone at all?" Cherry said, almost tearing up.
Dallas looked away, he could not look at her any longer. It was almost as if the scars on Cherry hurt Dallas more than they had physically hurt her. He nodded in response.
"You look at me, Dallas Winston. I see you, looking at my arms, my face. Go ahead. Look at what you did." she raised her voice. He turned his head back around to look at her.
What Cherry saw had nearly shocked her. As she watched Dallas turn around to look at her arm, Cherry noticed a single tear slowly fall from his eye. He couldn't look at her. Cherry began to feel everything all over again; the pain, the sadness, the anger, the happiness. Everything began to stir inside of her head. She knew at this time that Dallas had been telling the truth; that he hated the sight of Cherry in pain. And the truth was, she missed him dearly. She missed the days when they just talked, the days when they didn't say a word to each other, and the days when they held each other. She missed being able to joke around and talk with his friends. Although she was still upset at the fact that her friends failed to get along with Dallas as much as Cherry was able to get along with his friends, she still understood the concept that Dallas was from a different course of society. Things had to work just the way they were.
Cherry finally added, "I meant it when I said I'd never write you off. I just don't want to be the stupid girl that keeps running back, right back into her problems." And that was exactly how Cherry had felt. She wanted Dallas so badly, but she never wanted to be the weak one. She never wanted to be the typical girl who suffered from abuse, and yet she always manages to run back to her sweet boyfriend who says it was an accident. That was not Cherry. However, in this case, she and Dallas both knew that this would never happen again.
"You're not stupid," Dallas mumbled quietly, "you're the smartest, toughest girl I've ever known." Cherry let a small grin appear on her face, and Dallas caught it. He snuck his hand over to hers, and grabbed it lightly. Holding her hand in his, he said, "Listen, I love you more than you'll ever know, baby girl."
Dallas leaned in and kissed her lightly on her cheek, right on the scar that he had given her only a few days ago. After he had kissed her, he gently held his face against her scar, and closed his eyes. Cherry could feel him lightly breathing on her cheek, and it made her heart race. This was the Dallas that she had missed so much.