I slipped out from underneath the man's arm and kicked his legs out from under him, making him fall to the ground. I then proceeded to take my foot and kick forcefully where I knew it would hurt the most, and soon he was curled up into a fetal position, saying words that I would only say if a little kid had run over my foot with his tricycle. I finally gave some mercy and stopped for a whole two seconds, looking around.

The action was intense, and almost everyone was punching someone or being punched. Steve was holding one of the guys by his short, choppy hair and punched him in the guts. Soda had a guy in a headlock, and I could've sworn I saw Darry toss a guy off the roof. Then I saw Soda hit the ground, and I forgot about my own guy and ran towards him.

I've been in my own fair share of fights, hell, and even more then my own fair share. I've started a few good ones, ended some insanely ruff ones, and have even taken out five fully grown men with a foldable chair right in the middle of a fight. When I fought, I was a loner, with my only task being to get out alive, and screw the rest of 'em. But this fight was different. There were people here fighting that shouldn't have been here fighting, people who hardly knew me but they were willing to take a stand for me, the total stranger.

I couldn't figure out why I had left my own guy and ran over, but when I got there I tossed the drunk away from Soda and shoved him against the wall, backhanding him. He grabbed me by the waist and twisted me around, and again I felt the slicking coolness of a sharp metal blade being pressed against my neck. I stomped my foot down upon his and his reaction put so much force on the blade that I could feel blood trickling slowly down my neck.

Without thinking, action on an impulse, I grabbed my knife and shoved it into his thigh, right above the knee. He fell quicker then I had expected, pulling me with him to the ground. I broke out of his grip and pulled the knife out of his leg, breathing heavily. I could feel his blood on his hands and I felt like throwing up.

"You bastard," I said, kicking him on the side of his head. He yelped and staggered up, cursing under his breath.

"You little bitch," he murmured, and I slammed him into the wall again. He recovered quickly and slapped me across the face, knocking me to the ground. I laid there for a moment, shocked, breathing in the smell of the grass. By the time I lifted my head, the guys had retreated back into their car. I stood up and they drove out of the parking lot, blowing the horn. My hands were shaking and I really wished I had a cigarette, but I had just smoked my last one.

I pushed my hand against my neck, hoping to stop the blood flow, and I slipped my knife into my pocket. I felt bad for keeping it stained with blood, but I didn't have time to be a cleaning service. It didn't look like anyone else had come out as bad as me. Steve had a black eye, bigger than the one that I had covered up. Darry came out with a scratch on his arm, and Soda came out unharmed. "Damn him," I said quietly, cursing my neck with words that would make a sailor die with shame.

"You okay?" Steve asked. I guess I looked bad with my shaking hands and noticeable bloody neck.

"No, Steve, I'm just fine. I'm just about to die of blood loss. No, I'm not okay, you dip-shit," I said, not feeling in the mood to fight back against anybody. I wanted to slide down the wall and break into tears, but I knew better. Those guys smelt like alcohol and cigarettes, and when that mix combines with a drunk I immediately think of my dad beating the shit out of me."Damn," I continued, "I'm just fine."

"No, you're not," Soda said, staring, "I can see the blood. I'm not blind."

"Good for you. Your doctor will be glad to know that. Does anyone have a rag, or a cigarette? I'd rather have the cigarette, but I'm not picky," I said. Steve went inside and Soda fished a pack of Camels out of his pocket and handed them to me. I took three of them, emptying his carton, and lit the first one, finishing it in one drag.

"Why do you smoke so fast?" He asked.

I glared at him and stomped on the butt of the first cigarette. "You smoke to enjoy it," I said in reply, lighting the second one, "I smoke to die." He stared at me until Steve came out with a rag. I took it from him, licked the corner, and placed it against my neck. That's when I noticed Darry wasn't with us. "Where did Darry go?" I asked.

Soda's face was grim. "He's calling the guys. The Socs are getting way to careless about where they be driving. Especially in our territory," he said.

"Socs?" I asked.

"Yeah. Socs. They're the rich kids who wear madras jackets and kakis pants, driving the expensive cars. They also like to pick up on pretty girls and jump Greasers."

"Greasers?" I asked. "What's that?"

"That would be us," Steve said. "We're the dumb poor kids who play football and have long, greasy hair."

"So, do they think I'm a Greaser now or something?" I asked, lighting my second cigarette and taking a long drag.

"Something likes that," Soda said, and a couple minutes later Darry came back with a grim look on his face.

"The guys aren't very happy about this. Especially when I told them that they jumped a girl-"Darry started, but I cut him off.

"But I can fight, so I'm practically like a guy, only with boobs." I said. They stared at me. Even Darry stopped mid-sentence., because he only heard the end of my statement. "And just 'cause I mentioned I got boobs don't mean you guys can stare at 'em," I said and Steve's eyes fell down to the ground.

"Anyway," Darry said, "The guys aren't too happy with this."

"You expect them to?" Soda said, sarcastic.

"Very funny, Soda," Darry said, obviously not amused, "so now I have to make sure that Ponyboy doesn't go anywhere by himself."

"The kid's fast, Darry, he'll be fine," Steve said, "and he knows he ain't supposed to walk alone. And he never goes nowhere without Johnny anyway."

"You can tell that to him when he gets here." Darry said.

"You wanna bring him here? Is it safe?" Soda said, eyeing Darry as though he was crazy. Darry opened his mouth to respond, but Steve beat him too it.

"Chill Soda, it's not like they're gonna come back or anything," Steve said, smiling at Soda, "We scared the mother fucking shit out of those preppy rich-asses."

Soda rolled his eyes, and I noticed that he was the most relaxed out of the four of us. Darry was stiff and tall, maybe even thinking that he could scare the Socs away with his size. Steve was leaning against my truck, lighting up a cigarette, still tense. I felt perfectly calm, except for the fact that I was bleeding out of my neck and could have almost died. But Sodapop was relaxed as he was inside the DX before the fight.

Finished with my second cigarette, I threw it on the ground away from me and started up on my third, enjoying the fact that I could. I usually didn't get a lot of pocket change for cigarettes, so I wanted them to last.

We stood there in silence for a bit, until Darry finally moved about three minutes later. "I would stick around t'll Pony and the rest of them get here, but I got another job today. Something about a fire house."

My head perked eyes wide. Ohhhh shit I'm dead now, I thought.

"You tell Pony not to go anywhere without someone okays Soda?" Soda nodded and then Darry left walked over to an old ford on the other side of the lot.

By then, I was shaking. No, not shaking, in almost hysterics. I was supposed to say home all day, and look how I ended up. What happens if my father gets home before me? I would get such a beating if he found out I was gone.

"You okay?" Soda asked. I realized that they were now staring at me.

"I just need another cigarette. I could smoke a pack for breakfast if I wanted to. I always get like this after my near-death experiences," I said, trying to keep my voice calm as I watched Darry pull out of the lot and drive down the street.

"Well, you took all of mine, so I guess you'll just have to go without," Soda said.

I glared at him. "I'll just buy some later then," I said. "I got to get home anyway."

Soda said something but I couldn't hear him over the overwhelming sound of squeaky sneakers against pavement and a large amount of cussing. I turned around, along with Soda and Steve to see four people running towards us. The smallest of them all (and the scrawniest) made it to us first, and I could tell by his hair color that his must've been the kid brother Soda had that he had mentioned earlier. The second person who reached us was a boy that didn't look too much older, with his dark skin and shaggy bangs covering his forehead. The other two came trudging in behind; one of which who looked so drunk he could've fallen over if I poked him with the butt of my cigarette, and the last one with almost white hair and a face of that of an elf's.

"That didn't take you guys that long at all," Soda remarked, eyebrows rising.

"Is everything okay here?" The drunken one asked.

"Does it look like everything's okay, you drunken fool?" I asked, alerting the newcomers to my presence.

"My, my, ain't she a pretty face," He said, leaning against one of the gas pumps.

"I won't look to pretty when I kick your ass," I said, causing them to laugh. "I'm dead serious. I'm sick of shit today." They stared at me and that's when Soda stepped in.

"Oh, yeah. Guys, this is Kelsey. She was the one who got jumped with us-"

"I did not get jumped. I kicked ass and that's all I did."

"Then what's up with the cut on your neck?" Soda asked. That shut me up real well so he continued. "Kelsey, this is Ponyboy, my kid brother," he said, acknowledging the scrawny looking kid towards the back. "That there's Johnny," Soda said, pointing out the kid with the darker skin smoking a cigarette with Ponyboy in the back of our little huddle that we had formed. "The drunk one's Two-Bit, and get used to him, 'cause he's drunk a lot. And then there's Dally." Soda finished.

Steve broke the awkward silence. "Soda, you bringing Sandy tonight?" he asked. Soda nodded.

"Can I come? Me and Johnny won't do nothing to embarrass ya or anything'," Ponyboy asked.

"No, cause we're taken the girls out tonight. No kiddies aloud." Steve said. Soda shrugged, agreeing with him.

"That's okay. I'm seeking out some fun. Little kids allowed," Dally said, making Ponyboy perk up. I guess that he was going to take along. Not that I really cared. I was tired and I needed to get going before the old man got home.

"Not that I don't want to stay for your little tea party or whatever," I said to them, "But I got to get going."

"Where you going?" Soda asked me. I sighed and figured I might as well tell them.

"I'm headed to my house. That's where your brother is working on the roof."

"No kidding. Can you give him a message?" Soda asked. I nodded and I noticed that Two-Bit and Dally were talking quietly, looking over my way. "Can you tell Darry to pick up some groceries for the house? And if he asks why I isn't doing it, tell 'em I'm broke."

"But you have enough to take Sandy out," Ponyboy commented. Soda glared and I waved them goodbye.

"Nice meeting y'all," Two-Bit said, making no sense what so ever as I headed for my truck.

I waved as I left, and got into my truck. I started it up, and was relieved that those dip-shits didn't mess up my baby in any way. Listening to it purr, I pulled out of the gas station, the tears falling as I drove away.

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