It was embarrassing getting sick in front of the class, but he would never show it. Dallas Winston didn't get embarrassed. He was the epitomy of cool. Everything he did was tough. He decided to play like he'd had too much to drink the night before and by the time the teacher sent him on his way to the nurse's office, the other greasers in the class were practically high fiving him.

Considering the day he was having, going to the infirmary was a highlight. Dally hoped the real pretty nurse was working today; the one with the big, brown eyes and long, blond hair. He stumbled through the office door. No such luck. Man, he just couldn't catch a break. The mean, old crochety nurse that loved to nag and lecture everyone was standing there with her hands on her hips. She took one look at Dally and shook her head. Then she led him over to a cot and told him to lie down and keep quiet. She was already on her last nerve and she knew having Dallas Winston as her charge was going to push her over the edge.

It just wasn't right Dally thought. Nice, pretty nurses are the ones that make you feel better. They should all be nice and pretty. This one was making Dally's stomach hurt worse than it had all day. She started in on him about needing to notify a parent or guardian as soon as possible about him being sick ... that's when Dallas decided to close his eyes and tune out her irritating voice. Parent or guardian ... yeah right.

He wasn't sure how long he'd slept, but when he tried to open his eyes a little while later Dally found his head spinning. He was nauseous and cold and he felt his body trembling under the thin infirmary blanket. There were hushed voices in the room, but Dally was too sick to try to listen. He wanted to die. He'd never felt worse in his life.

Then a big calloused hand touched his forehead.

Dally's eyes flew open and he started to bat the hand away when he noticed who it belonged to.

"What the hell are you doing here Superman? Why aren't you at work?"

"You're sick, Dal. The school called me to come pick you up. You wouldn't give them an adult's name or number and they have a policy about releasing sick students. I guess they didn't know what to do, so they went and got Pony out of class ... asked him for your parents' number. He gave them mine."

Dally huffed and rolled his eyes. "Stupid punk kid. He shouldn't have done that. You didn't need to go risking your job for me man. You and your brothers need that money ... & I sure as hell ain't worth losing your job for." Dallas' lip curled into a snarl as he spit the bitter words at Darry.

"Yeah, well I know one person who would disagree with you on that one Winston.

"Oh yeah? And who the f&%k would that be?!"

"My mom."

The silence that followed those 2 small words was deafening. It lasted too long.

Dally looked down at the floor, then broke the awkward quiet first ...

"Well, your Mom's dead now isn't she Curtis?! I don't see how the hell her opinion matters anymore."

The words bit at Darry's heart, but he brushed them off considering the source.

"It matters to me Winston. It matters a lot. You were special to her ... she thought you were worth something. And that oughta be enough to make you live your life a little better. Anyways, we both know she'd have my hide if I didn't take you home with me right now. So c'mon - let's go."

Talking about Mrs. Curtis made Dally's heart sting. It was almost enough to make him give in. But Dally hated the idea of being sick in front of the gang. He never let anyone see him vulnerable - ever. And he sure wasn't about to start now.

"Whatever you say Superman. But you can just drop me off at Buck's. I'm gonna crash there."

"Like hell you are."

"Damn it Darry, last time I checked you weren't my dad! I said I wanna go to Buck's & I'm going to Buck's!" Dallas could feel his frustration start to spill over.

"No - you're not." Darry's voice was filled with warning. "And we aren't discussing it Winston. Buck's ain't no place for a sick kid. It's loud and it's dirty and you're not goin' there." Darry was calm, steady, firm. As far as he was concerned he had spoken and it was final.

Dally was about to respond with some smart ass comment about the use of the word 'kid', but he let it go. He was too miserable to fight with anyone right now ... let alone Darry Curtis.

5 minutes later his head was resting on the seat of the Curtis' truck and Dallas was on his way to the only place he'd ever really considered home.

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