The Swing- A Johnny Cade fan fiction

"I'm Pat. Pat Liviano"

As soon as Dally told me that, I didn't know what to think. Greaser girl? What would my parents think? Do I have to tell them? As all these thoughts flooded into my head, Dally just sat there staring at me.
"You want to come meet the gang?" He finally asked.
"Maybe another day, my parents will start asking where I am."
"Your parents actually give a damn where you are?"
"Well, yeah, of course. Why wouldn't they?" I asked, suspiciously.
"No reason." He said.
"Oh, I get it. Yours don't. I understand." I got up and started to leave with Rico trailing behind me.
"Wait, Pat," He grabbed my wrist to stop me, "When do you want to meet the gang?"
"Maybe tomorrow, if that's fine with you," I responded.
"Cool. Meet me back here tomorrow at exactly 2:00 pm. Ya, dig?" he let go of my wrist.
"Ummm, yeah?"
"Cool cya tomorrow," and he left.
I decided to leave too since no one was around but I didn't want to go home. Instead, I head my way to what I now know is called the lot. Someone was there already. I stepped closer and realized it was another boy. I wanted to say hello, but I also didn't want to disturb his peace.
I finally mustered up the courage to say hi.
"Oh, hey there. Didn't see you. I'll be leaving if that's what you want." He mumbled.
"What I want? Who told you that? I only came 'cause I was bored." I told him.
"Oh, okay. I'm Johnny. Johnny Cade." He held his hand out for me to shake.
"Pat. Pat Liviano."
"Is Pat short for something?"
"Yeah, but I hate it."
"Oh," he paused for a moment, "Are you new in town?"
"Yep. Just moved this afternoon."
He stood up, "If you want, I could show you around town."
Something about Johnny made him very pleasant. I thought about it and agreed. How bad could it be?

Johnny's P.O.V.

Pat's her name. She looks like a nice person. Hope I'm not wrong though since I really want to be her friend. She had periwinkle highlights that blended well with her natural hair. She said she was new in town, so I offered to show her around. I'm usually nervous talking to everyone but she seems... different. She's really easy to talk to, which I'm glad since talking to Dally isn't always a picnic and he's the only one that understands me, along with Ponyboy.

"Alright, you can show me around." She said

"Alright, let's go," I replied while still picking myself off the ground.

I started walking to Tasty Freeze because I was practically starving since I hadn't eaten dinner before heading to the lot...

***Flashback***

"I hate you! Get out of my house!!!!!" my mom yelled.

"You are a crazy woman! You get the hell out of my house you psycho b**ch!!" my dad yelled back.

"GET. OUT!!!!!" my mom screamed loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

My dad hit her with a beer bottle and it broke as soon as it hit her. By then, my mom was sobbing and screaming at the same time. My dad looked at me with such hatred and held up the broken beer bottle as if he were about to hit me. I bolted through the door and headed to the lot.

I wanted to be alone, but it didn't feel right. I needed somebody to take care of me. As soon as the thought popped into my head, Pat arrived.

***End of Flashback***

She might be the one, I thought as we walked to Tasty Freeze. She could be the one to take care of me when my parents don't. But she doesn't look a whole lot older than me, probably younger. Maybe I should ask... My mouth worked faster than my brain so before I knew it, I was asking her age. Crap.

"I'm 15," she responded chill.

"Oh, I'm 16," I responded.

We kept walking until we reached Tasty Freeze. I thought she was going to ask why we came, but she just kept walking. That's when I actually realized that she almost a stick. Her jeans were tightly wrapped around her legs which showed the form of her legs. Almost sticks.

"Do you want anything?" I asked her.

"Maybe just some water," she responded looking at the menu, "This is greasy food, correct?"

"Yep."

"Then yeah, I'll just have the water."

"Pat, no offense to you, but you look almost like a stick," I said to her.

That caught her attention, "My ma tells me that my body is a temple and that if I put damaging foods in it, I would be destroying my temple. Plus, they say you are what you eat so..."

"I'm going to order you something else and if you don't drink it, I will personally dump it on your head," I said playfully.

"O-kay." she chuckled and started off to find a table.

I looked at the menu once again. She was right, you are what you eat, but luckily, I'm a greaser so I am supposed to eat greasy foods. What would she like that isn't too damaging to her "temple"? I decided on ordering her a smoothie that claims it's made out of real fruit, but I've tried it and I'm pretty sure its 99% sugar and 1% fruit syrup. I also ordered myself a burger since I was starving even more from the walk.

I brought our food to our table and gave her the smoothie. She looked at it up and down and then looked at me.

"What's it made out of?" she asked

"I'm pretty sure it's 99% sugar," I replied, "and 1% fruit... syrup."

"Yeesh, my ma would get mad," she opened her straw and put it in the drink. "Guess I better get this over with or else you'll 'personally dump it' on my head."

I chuckled at her wacky accent of me and I watched her take a sip.

"Do you like it?" I asked her and she looked up.

"OMG IT'S SO GOOD!" her eyes lit up and everything, like the cartoons.

I chuckled, "I'm glad you like it."

She kept drinking it until a second later she was finished. She started laughing out of nowhere.

"What?" I asked with my mouth full.

"You have mustard and ketchup all over your face," she laughed.

"Oh," I started laughing too and she handed me a napkin.

I knew it! She is going to take care of me when my parents don't. I felt so happy and relieved, but then I forgot a minor detail. She's not a greaser, yet.

"Pat, do you know what greasers and Socs are?" I asked her.

She cleared her throat and made a wacky Dally accent, "Socs are are snobby, spoiled, white trash. Greasers are more like me. Tuff and individual."

"Ding Ding Ding!" I said like a buzzer, "Have you met Dally?"

"Yep, at the park."

"Oh, so are you a Soc or Greaser?" I asked.

"I thought about it and realized that I would rather be known as a hoodlum than spoiled white trash."

"Cool, welcome to the greaser family," I said trying to control my happiness, "You'll be our first greaser girl."

"Yeah," she said, "I know."