Toxic 🖤 (Dallas Winston love story)

Holy Days

I sigh, exhausted from the heat of the sun beaming down on my small-town church. It didn't help that the pews seemed to catch every ray of sun and beam the heat back at me. Hours would go by without water since my mother, Anne, considered it a "distraction." After we're dismissed, my fourteen-year-old sister Claire takes my hand as we go down the steps of the church to get into the back of my daddy's, Frank's, pickup truck. Mother and Daddy get in the front while I sit up in the bed of the truck with Claire laying on my lap. 

Once we start moving, I start to relax as the familiar warm breeze flows through my dress. We pass building after building until, like clockwork, our mother shouts through the passenger window for us to get down just as we reach the north side of town so that we're not "exposed" to the worst kind of people in Tulsa. Claire instantly lays flat on the back of the truck and starts her infamous protection prayer, which our mother taught us when we were just little tots that didn't know any better. Momma said that a prayer like this protects you from any bad spirits.

As I grew up, I learned she meant people who live on the north side, also known as greasers.I begin to lay down next to Claire when my father stops at a light and the growing sound of yelling captures my attention. Looking over the side of the truck, I see a bunch of boys from my school who lives on the east side speed right in front of us. Like the name Greasers, the name Socs is given to people who live on the east side of town, where I and my family are from.

The socs jump out of the car and start pinning a kid who looked about Claire's age to a rusted house. I watch in disbelief as the five boys start pinning the one kid by his lonesome to the ground. My momma shouts for me to lie down and keep quiet, but I can't tear my eyes away from the sight. The boys are huddled on top of him, and then I see one guy pull out a blade. My head began to feel fuzzy, and it all became too much for me. As the light stayed bright red, something came over me. 

I feel myself jump down from the truck and start running over as my father calls my name repeatedly, followed by a horrendous scream from my mom. I run but then stopped as the socs started running back to their cars, and a whole bunch of greasers followed right after. I fall next to the kid and hold a handkerchief that was in my dress pocket to his neck. Those airheads cut him. As I look over the boy to see how badly he's hurt, I feel a tall presence over me. 

I step back to look up at a man who looked to be in his twenties. He goes straight past me to look at the boy's neck. Now kneeling next to him and furrowing his eyebrows, he asks "Pony, it's not that bad, is it? Did they hurt you badly?" Pony opens his mouth, but then another boy who looks about my age and has the bluest eyes I've ever seen runs over and holds his arms to look at him. "Oh pony, they pulled a blade?"

"Yeah," Pony says, looking down at the ground. The boys comfort him, and then the oldest looks me up and down. "Did you enjoy the show, Socs? Did you watch how they cut my brother's face?" Pony stands up and looks at me. "Cut it out, Dar; she came over to help, I think." I'd never been talked to in such a demeanor that it sent butterflies flying. "I ran over, but when I got here, you guys chased them off, but I gave him my handkerchief. I just wanted to help."

Pony smiles and says thank you, then points out each of the boys. "This is my older brother Darry and my other older brother, soda-pop Curtis." Sodapop smiles at me, and Darry gives a simple head nod. "Hi, I'm... " I feel a sharp tug on my arm and meet face-to-face with my father's wrath. He pulls me strongly by my arm, and I turn to wave goodbye but get pulled back again.I groan, knowing that I was in for a long night of agony from my parents. I watched as the greasers from before were going back in the direction of where the Curtis boys were.

I was steps away from the truck when a pair of brown eyes caught mine. I watch as the boy blows out smoke from a cigarette and watches my every move as I get in the back of the truck.He has the nerve to smirk at me and start running to the other guys. I watch the group until my dad hits the gas on the truck to get us out of there.

I turned my head away but looked back before they were fully out of sight, and right before the building blocked my sight, I could've sworn I saw him once again looking straight at me.