Chapter One

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The sun was high in the sky with bright, warm rays casting over the earth. It was an average Friday afternoon in Tulsa, where greasers roamed the back roads and socs patroled the main roads.

As I stuffed my hands in my jean pockets, I only had two things on my mind; how to fix my broken down truck, and how to quit school without my disgusting excuse of a mother finding out. I just moved here last month and I already hate the place. Drunkards roam the streets looking for victims to murder or rape, while all the scared people hide in their houses and do nothing about it.

I have been in exactly one situation where I had to fight. It was my first week in Tulsa, and I had decided to give everyone a chance to prove that they're alright people. I smiled and waved at everyone I passed by in the halls at school and on the streets, but I think that made things worse. My third day in Tulsa, I was walking home from school and got jumped. I wish I had brought my blade with me that day, but the school forbids any weapons. All the boys who jumped me were socs and were a year older than me. I learned how to deflect any sort of punch and smack from my mother always hitting me, but soon the boys were kicking and ripping off any clothing they could grab onto.

They left me on the side of the street that night and I lay there for hours either in agonizing pain and shock, or passed out. When I finally crawled home to my mother, she screamed at me and started beating me senseless. For a week straight I was in the hospital recovering. My mother simply told the doctors I was hit by a bus. I hated her so much then that I wanted to pour out all my misgivings and sadness on the doctors. But she prevented that from happening my whispering in my ear, "If you dare tell any of them the truth, I'll throw your ass on the streets."

Ever since, I've always kept to myself and held in all of my emotions. I made no friends in school, and whatever friends I did have stopped talking to me because I grew very distant. At first I minded a lot. Now, I only see people as a distraction from my main goal to get away from Tulsa and any place with cruel humans and just travel the world by myself and live in the wild. But that dream was a long way off, and everyday I think about it, I know I'll have to wait. Gosh I hate waiting. And people.

When the sound of a car horn sounded, I jumped and quickly drew out my blade, ready for any danger. I stood beside my truck on the side of the road, staring at it with no clue what to do. It had broken down and I needed a mechanic, but I didn't want to ask for help. Asking for things is a weakness, and I need to be strong. When the car that honked rolled down its window, I saw an older man, about fifty or something, and stuffed the blade back in my pocket. I trusted older people. They were sane enough.

"You need help with that car, missy?" A coarse voice asked me.

"Yes, sir," I patted the hood of my new-ish ford truck.

"Well, if I were you, I'd go on down to the DX just around this corner here and ask for some help," the old man suggested, gazing at my truck. "Just a suggestion, though."

"Thanks," I wave good-bye to the departing man and consider his words. The DX. I've heard of the gas station but I've never been there. I decided to go, because standing on the side of a road with a broken-down truck is an invitation to get jumped. Especially 'cause I'm alone.

The walk to the DX was pretty short, my long legs a big help in that. I push my way inside the small white building and immediately noticed a group of girls crowding around the cash register. I raise a brow slightly, curious in the fuss.

When I approach the group of squealing girls, I catch a glimpse of a slightly tall man with a blue cap and a tired face. I sorta feel bad for him because I can guess that he's tired of all the attention he's getting. 

I clear my throat and begin, "Hey, if you're not here for anything except to gawk and squeal then beat it," there's an immediate reaction, and soon all the girls are rolloing their eyes and heading for the exit. "Hey, you too, slut." I glower at a woman with a low-cut shirt and hiked up shorts. She gives an awful but obvious flirty laugh, then leans close to the DX worker and whispers something.

When she leaves, I sigh and step up to the mechanic. Now I can get my truck fixed. "So-"

"Thanks for that," the mechanic grabs a piece of paper that has a phone-number on it and crumples it up. "That's at least the fifty-th number I've gotten today. I need a break from all that endless flirting."

I shrug. "Girls are idiots. I'm sure I used to be like that once upon a time."

He chuckles. "You're not like that now?" He raises a brow.

"I hope not. Am I staring at you with a crazy smile on my face right now?"

He studies me for a moment before sticking up a thumb. "You're clear."

We laugh before another DX worker enters the room. He halts and studies me for a moment before nodding at the man I'm talking to. "It's lunch break, man. Let's go to Dairy Queen or somethin'."

"Uh, sure," the man I'm talking to glances at me. "After I help her with whatever she needs."

The other guy sighs then exits the room, shaking his head. I almost ask why before I notice the DX employee's blue eyes on me. I freeze for a moment before I remember why I'm there.

"Right," I begin, "My truck broke down just around the corner here. I was wonderin' if one of you could take a look at it."

"Sure," he replied, disappearing into the next room where his co-worker disappeared. He reappeared a minute later. "I'll take my truck to pick it up and bring it in the shop. You can join me or wait here if you like."

"Oh, I have to be somewhere," I rejected the offer, "but when should I be back to pick it up?"

Was that disappointment in his eyes? "You can come back whenever, but depending on the condition of it, probably in the next few days."

I frowned but nodded. "Alright, then," I started for the exit. "Thanks-"

"Wait," the mechanic hopped over the counter and ran up to me. "My name's Sodapop. If you come in the shop and Steve is there, then just tell him I have your truck."

"Sodapop?" I tip my head to one side. "Is that a nickname or somethin'?"

He grins, shaking his head. "Nope. Sodapop is my actual name. Says so on my birth certificate."

I laugh, then hold out my hand for a formal introduction. "Well I'm Lilly. Nice to meet ya, Pepsicola."

"It's Sodapop," he corrects with a laugh.

"Alright, Seven-up. See ya later." I wave and leave the gas station quickly with a smile plastered on my face. When I look back, Sodapop is standing with his arms crossed and a giant smile on his face as well.

When I get back to school, I'm just in time for my last class of the day, and I'm more than relieved. Sodapop stays in my mind for the rest of the day, though, and when I get home to a screeching mother, I decide to go back to the DX. 

Not just to see him, I tell myself. I need my truck. It's my best friend. And my only friend. But when I think back to my conversation with him, Sodapop seemed like a new friend. But I quickly dismiss the thought. Friends are obstacles in my rough life. I don't need them.

When I enter the DX again, I laugh at the sight. More women are crowded around Soda. I walk up to the counter and hop over it skillfully. Then I point to the doors and say, "Alright, beat it before I beat you."

That sends most of the girls scrambling out of the doors. Soda looks my way, confused. Then his eyes light up and he walks up to me. "Sorry, boss. Couldn't get rid of 'em."

I suppress a smile and glare at the rest of the girls left behind who are looking at Soda dreamily. "I'll fire ya if you don't put an end to this, Sodapop." I say commandingly.

Soda's eyes stretch wide and he sighs. "Then I'll never be happy. I'll probably be forced to leave town since I won't have a steady source of income."

At this, the rest of the girls gasp, apologize, and leave immediately.

"Thanks again," Sodapop chuckles. "Much more of saving me from them and I'll owe you."

"You already do," I wink playfully. Then I look around and start walking to the secret room that must be where Sodapop and Steve work on cars. "You owe me a tour of the place."

When I look back at Soda, he's grinning and nodding his head. "Fair enough."


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