The Outsiders imagines

Dally - 1

A/N: admit it, you like that face

Slipping on your jacket, you stepped out of your house and into the chilly night air. Both of your parents were already asleep. They had told you that you weren't allowed to go to the drive-in, but that wasn't going to stop you from going. So you began the quiet, uneventful walk to the drive-in. It really only became eventful when a tuff blue mustang drove past, obviously going way over the speed limit. Had you decided to walk along the curb instead of on the sidewalk, they would've killed you. Probably Soc's.
After arriving at the drive-in and paying to get in, you found a seat and began watching the movie. Two girls sat a couple seats away. One had long red hair. She didn't look very happy. The other girls hair was shorter and black. She looked like she was in a much better mood than the red-head. Three boys sat behind them. One of them you didn't recognize. The second boy you did know. He went to the same school as you did, despite being so young. The third boy you also recognized. It was hard to not know him.
He was constantly in the papers for always going to jail. His name was Dallas Winston. Oftentimes, the paper described him as a "troubled youth", a boy who needed nothing more than a therapist, a better home life, and constant counseling and suddenly he'd be all better. But everyone knew that that wouldn't work. Boys like him never changed. They're always too used to breaking the rules and doing whatever they wanted. So they don't change, even if they try.
You mostly focused on the movie, but you could see Dallas messing with the red-head. Sherri might've been her name. Or she was unfortunate enough that her parents named her after a fruit, you weren't quite sure. Dallas kept leaning forward, messing with her hair and talking dirty. When she yelled at him he'd just lean back and put his feet up on her chair. Deciding that you wanted a drink, you stood and walked to the concession stand. People talked with one another while they waited. A couple making out near the bathrooms were now being yelled at and told to leave if they weren't going to watch the movie.
As your thoughts drifted to other things, someone began talking to you. And you didn't realize you were being talked to until your shoulder was grabbed and you were turned around to face the speaker. It was Dallas. He studied your face for a moment.
       "Don't I know you?" He asked, staring. His face was much too close to yours. You could feel his breath on your face. You shook your head.
       "No, I'm pretty sure I know you. Did we date?" He insisted as he took his hand off your shoulder. You laughed, earning a slightly confused and annoyed look from him.
        "No we didn't date, Dallas. I'd remember if I dated someone who was constantly in jail." He still stared and he was still way too close. Now it wasn't just his face too close to you, it was his entire body. He practically stood against you. This closeness brought back odd memories from your childhood. Like the surreal, dream-like memory of going to a casino with your father and seeing a stripper while at the age of 7. Suddenly, he started talking, pulling you away from the memories.
       "I know why I remember you. I slept with you once, didn't I. And call me Dally, I think I'll like the way it sounds when you say it." You laughed again. Now he looked more annoyed than confused.
       "No. No. We've never done that." You said as you moved forward in the line, finally putting some distance between the two of you.
        "I can guarantee we will then. By the end of tonight." As he said this, he hooked his arm around your waist, holding you against him. Was he drunk? No, he didn't smell like alcohol. He's just way too cocky. You pried at his fingers, but it didn't work. You kept talking, hoping it would distract him enough to allow you to get his hand off of you.
"No, I don't think we will. I'm not one for sleeping with strangers." You could feel him laugh and you continued to pry at his fingers in hopes of freeing yourself.
       "I'm not a stranger. I've been in the papers enough that everyone knows all about me." He continued to hold onto you as you got what you wanted and walked back to your seat.
You had thought he'd let you go once you sat down, but his arm remained around your waist and he sat next to you. Staying focused on the movie and trying to pry his hands away, you once again didn't notice that he had started talking to you. Except this time he was talking dirty like he was earlier when he was messing with the red-head.
The red-head was sitting with her friend still, except now the two boys that were with Dally were sitting on either side of the girls. You watched the group of 4 that sat a couple rows in front of you. They talked but it didn't seem like anything too interesting was happening.
"Why don't we head out of here." You turned to look at Dally as he said this. He wasn't looking at you. He no longer had his arm tightly around your waist. In fact, he looked just about ready to jump up and fight.
You followed his gaze and your eyes landed on a boy probably around Dally's age. You knew him too. Tim Shepard. If one walked around enough, you'd see them hanging out. Not really being friends, just leaning against a wall, smoking and catcalling. Or maybe they'd be slashing tires and breaking windows on a Soc's car. They seemed like close acquaintances, but other times they'd seem to hate each other.
"Sure... I need to head home anyway." You stood, and headed for the exit. But Dally seemed inclined to avoid even going near Tim. He grabbed you and had you wait at the side of the concession stand until Tim had walked to the red-head and the boys that were with Dally. Dally then led you out, walking quite quickly.
"What'd you do to him?" You asked, catching up to Dally. He looked back and shrugged.
       "Slashed his tires." He slowed his pace the further you got.
       "You're avoiding fighting him?" He stopped as soon as the words left your mouth, and turned around quick enough to make you jump a little.
       "I'm not avoiding anything." He said in a low tone, getting uncomfortably close now. The situation felt oddly hostile. You avoided looking at him as much as you could, allowing your eyes only to dart up and glance to the side of him or at his shoulder. He seemed to stand down, his defensiveness and aggression fading away as he realized you weren't accusing him of anything.
"Just figured it's best not to fight in the presence of a pretty lady." He stated nonchalantly, continuing to walk. You caught up with him again, struggling to keep up with his long strides.
       "That red-head may be pretty but she yelled at you an awful lot. I don't know why you'd bother not fighting in front of her." You said, mostly to yourself. An amused grin was plastered on his face.
       "I'm not talking about that broad." He almost laughed, slowing down just enough for you to keep up with him. You were confused now.
        "Her friend then?" This made him actually start laughing. Even more confused, you kept walking. Your house was just up ahead. He was still laughing as he caught up to you.
"It's not either one of those Soc girls." That's when you finally understood. He was talking about you. It couldn't have been more obvious.
       You walked up the steps to the porch of your house and he followed. He was leaned against the wall, close to you. 'Not close enough...' You turned red as this thought crossed your mind. You shook your head, trying to get this thought out of your head. He's close enough, way too close. That's what you kept telling yourself.
"I never learned your name." His voice broke you from your thoughts. "It's (y/n)..." you said quietly. He smiled. It seemed genuine enough. "If I came and knocked on this door, would little miss (y/n) answer?" You shook your head. "You'd have better luck knocking on my window." You were red. Maybe you should've just told him to knock at the door... "Which one would that be?" He asked, and you pointed out the window that was yours on the side of the house.
"And if I asked to take you out sometime tomorrow night, maybe drive around or get something to eat, you'd say...?" Was he asking you out? No, of course not. You nodded.
       "I'd say yes." You said softly. Through the dark you could see his triumphant smile, like he'd won something.
       "Then it's a date. I'll be knocking at that window of yours tomorrow night at around... 6:30." You just about passed out. Date. He said it was a date! Someway, somehow. The tuffest guy you'd ever met had asked you on a date. And you might not know him very well, but you still were excited at the thought of going out with him.
       Before you could finish processing what he had said, he leaned down to you and kissed your cheek. You felt as though you might explode or pass out, maybe both. He walked away, seeming very nonchalant. You fumbled with the door handle, finally managing to get inside. You collapsed onto your bed once in your room. You smiled to yourself. That had actually happened. Even though you were too happy and jittery to sleep, you laid in bed anyway, and relaxed until the morning sun rose into the sky.