Hayy!! Okay! New Story! Yes, I know I already have one out and I usually hate making another story when I have one not even close to done but I needed to make this. So, here's where I got this idea. Okay, in my L.A class we're reading The Outsiders. And I'm like "I could use this!" So I did, so make a Spiritshipping love story between Jesse and Jaden's love for each other to conquer the bordline between classes to be with each other!! Awesome, right? Well Review and tell me your opinion to that. So this is the Prologue! tell me what you think and if yal like it, i'll contiune it! Get it? got it? Sweet!

Alrighty! You ready for a new story?!

Crowd: Yeah!

Can't hear you!

Crowd: YEAH!!

Fuck yeah! Enjoy the story!!

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All my life I've heard I was raised "on the wrong side of the tracks". I grew up in what people call in my area the hood. Now, I don't know about you, but when I think of the word hood I think of gangsters and crack houses, but it's not like that over here. People who actually live on this side of town call it home. That's what I call it. It ain't bad down here. But my perspective of bad and your perspective of bad are probably two totally different things.

Example, a bad situation you would usually face everyday is you're late for the bus or you get detention. Maybe your girlfriend or boyfriend dumped you. Yeah, that's bad. Me, a bad situation is being jumped, or getting shot at, losing my cigarettes, having a hangover before I have to go to school, which I am failing. It's things we face everyday that make us see things different.

That's where I come to explain the one key factor in all of this. In my town, there is a border line. A border line to separate classes. It's an easy system. There is the upper-class, what we call The Rich Rummies and then there is the lower-class, the "hoodlums". I am a hoodlum and couldn't be prouder. Hoodlums have something that the rummies don't. We have street smarts. How to survive in the world. We know how to take care of ourselves without the help of our mommies and daddies. Half of our mommies and daddies either hate us, hit us, or they're dead. Mine are the third, dead. Died a few years ago. But, I ain't getting into that.

I live with my four siblings. Three brothers and one sister. John, twenty-two, and is the parent of the house after mom and dad died. Then comes Chris, who is eighteen and works at a gas station with no high school education and always needing someone to bail him out of jail. Next is me, Jesse, seventeen, Senior in high school, the goof-ball of the family. Jennifer, fifteen, runs around with her eighteen-year-old boyfriend instead of focusing on her school work and making something out of herself. Lastly, there is Michael, he's thirteen and is the brains of the family. He's going to be the one going to college and getting out of this town, going places, being a good person

We may not be the perfect American family, but we stick together. People might call us dysfunctional, out of control, a menace to society (as most of us hoodlums are labeled) but we're family. We're all we've got.

Those rummies can call us all of those nasty words, but we know one thing; we can kick their asses in a fight. Those rich, snobby, little punks with their designer clothing and nice cars don't stand a chance against us in a brawl. That's what makes us have the upper hand. They can say all those things about us at school or at the mall but when you cross into our territory, hoodlum territory, you better look out. We will get our revenge. Beat your face in, key your car, whatever we can do to you, we will.

I had grown up learning to hate the upper-classmen and that's how it was gonna stay. They judge us, piss on us and laugh, just because we have it rough.

But, there was one rummy, no, boy I met that wasn't like the rest. One of us, so to say. He didn't call us names. He thought of us as friends, companions. He didn't care if we were different or were tougher, or meaner than the crowd he hung out with. He thought we were apart of his family almost.

He was a weird kid. Not weird as in the nerdy kind of weird, but in the sense that he wasn't afraid of us or smug. He was something. He made everything…right. Made me see life differently. But, I also dragged him down, made him see things he should never see. Fights, arguments to the point a gun was staring you in the face, my ugly side, how rough it was down here in the hood, saw me bloody, beaten to a pulp.

But, through all of that I knew one thing. That I cared about him deeply. How I…loved him. Him. That little fact caused chaos between my friends and family. The awkwardness, how uncomfortable it was for them to accept.

It didn't matter though. I loved him. I loved him enough let him venture into my world and actually venture into his. I loved him enough, that I would kill anyone who harmed him. All the smart remarks and judgments my people would make about him I would pull my switchblade out in a heartbeat. Even if they were my friends.

One thing just stood in our way. One tiny thing that made all the difference was I was trash and he was a goodie-goodie, a rummy, superior over me because of his wealth.

We just weren't right for each other and we never knew if we would make it.

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Kikuchan: Ha! I like it!

Jesse: Yeah, for a prologue that was some good shit!

Kikuchan: Mmmhmm…wait…what da fuck?! Where's Jaden?! Jaden always does the end of chapter comments with me!

Jesse: Well since you're writing in my point of view I took his place.

Kikuchan: ohhh! Okay! Pleasure working with you Jesse!

Jesse: Pleasure? No. Misery? Yes!

Kikuchan: oh GET OUT! Get out! Ur mean to me you can get out!

Jesse: Kidding, Kayy, Kidding!

Kikuchan: I didn't sense the sarcasm!! Urgh!! Anyway! PLEASE REVIEW!! Tell me if I should continue this story or not!