❝ I WOULDN'T TRADE YOU FOR A SINGLE PERSON IN THIS WORLD ❞
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The police station in Tulsa was miles from where I stood in the parking lot of my home. It was farthest East you could imagine, deep in greaser territory. It made sense. A majority of people taken there were greasers, hood kids. Mostly robberies and stuff, but there were a few bad cases that had to be locked up.
I knew the way. I'd been there twice. Once when my father brought me to work and showed me around. I became real close with all his co-workers, going to work events with them and everything. Knowing the whole police station in Tulsa didn't really make me favored in high school, but I don't think people would have liked me either way. The second time was when I had been arrested with Dallas. I hadn't recognized the officers that took us in that day, and I thanked God for that. It was a far walk, but a quick drive.
I was in luck. I had a driver's permit (not my full license, I wasn't legally allowed to drive, but I was good at it), and my dad's car keys dangling off my fingers. I wished I could say there was a bit of trepidation before getting in, shutting the door, and twisting the keys. But there wasn't. I turned on the radio and pulled out of the driveway.
My dad had two different cars – one that he drove to work, and the other for everything else. It was strange for greaser families to have that, but it came in handy for me. He told me I wasn't allowed to take the car until I got my full license. He made that loud and clear. I tried to dismiss those nagging thoughts in the back of my mind.
Dallas really knew how to get himself in trouble, even when he didn't want to. I remembered him going on a few days before about how he wasn't looking to get into anything with the fuzz. He wanted to stay out of the cooler. He didn't like it there, I could tell by the way he spoke of it. It made sense. It was cold and desolate there. It probably would have messed with my mind a bit if I hadn't had Dallas with me.
He'd beat up some kid and my own father arrested him. Dallas never had anything against anyone. It was mostly people who had issues with him. Somebody probably fuelled him up, and I knew he couldn't resist a good fight. People really underestimated just how strong he was.
As much as I didn't want to admit it, Steve was right. I'd always hoped I'd be able to invite Dallas over someday. I knew my Dad would never be okay with it, but I thought he'd maybe accept it. That was all I needed. Acceptance. We'd never been too close, anyway. There wouldn't be coming back from this. In dad's eyes, he'd be a delinquent, and that was all.
He'd go on about criminals he took in back when I was a kid, people who would do horrendous things. He'd describe them. They were usually the typical guy you'd think would be taken in for such a terrible act. Dallas wasn't like them, but nobody else would care to see that. Especially not my dad.
I didn't realize just how early it was. The sun had just finished setting, and the air was still cool. I turned the heater on in the car and let the tunes from the radio calm my nerves. The anxiety began to set in about halfway there. I wanted to see Dallas, that was all. I wanted to know he'd be out soon. I wanted to know exactly what happened. I just didn't want to see my dad.
