the outsiders oneshots BOOK 2 (on hold)

DALLAS-Why do I Feel Like This?

(I HIGHLY recommend reading "girls only care about their hair" before this one or it will probably make zero sense.)

I made it through a couple of days without anyone saying anything to me about my hair. Dallas and I have hung out after school everyday this week. I never would have thought him to actually converse with me. but he's actually a good guy once you get to know him. Sure, he's rough around the edges, but You've just gotta put up with that sometimes. Every time he dropped me off at school I felt invincible. Until I was followed home from school. 

Apparently, and I should have guessed this, being involved with Dallas Winston of all greasers marked me down in the Socs eyes. I was out of their territory and in Dally's grip. They cast me out. That became very apparent when they yanked me to the ground by the neck of my shirt. 

When my head hit the ground I felt like the ground was spinning and my brain felt like it was going to explode. One of them Tusked as he climbed on top of me. 

"What would good old Dallas think of you on the ground like this," his hands trailed closer and closer to my neck and finally his fingers landed on Dally's necklace. "I'm sure he's been on top of you like this before right?"

Barely, I could hear his buddies snickering as they watched him tease me. I made an pitiful attempt to push him off of me, which only resulted in him clicking his blade open and holding it to my lower stomach. He lifted my shirt to my rib cage and trailed the knife around my torso, cutting me slightly. 

I whimpered and he punched me across the face, silencing me. 

"Shut up, or I'll do to you what Dallas does to us," He spat at me. "Trust me, I'm going easy on you."

If I'm being honest I believe him. Dallas was capable of doing things I wish I'd never heard of before. He didn't go to the slammer for nothing. For some reason though, I didn't fear him like I probably should. 

Spitting the blood from my mouth onto the pavement I did my best to stare into his eyes and he ran the knife along my throat. Again, not hard enough to do any major damage, but with enough force to draw some blood. 

"He's never-" I was cut off by the pain of the knife pressing harder into my neck. I swallowed hard.

"He's never what?" one of his buddies asked, yanking the Christopher off my neck and breaking the chain by doing so. "Let her talk Richie."

The boy on top of me moved his knife from my neck to my cheek and held still while I started to talk again. 

"He's never done anything like this to me," I growled. 

The worst thing he's done is set my hair on fire. I hate to think it, but maybe he would do worse if he had the chance. Then again, he had me alone, in my room, when I was half asleep. I think he had a chance and he chose to respect me and not take it. I took a deep breath knowing my next comment would get me punched again. 

"And he'd sure do a better job that you're doing of jumping me. You're weak."

Angrily, Richie got off of me and spat on me again. "I'll beat the tar out of you, watch your mouth you littl-"

I couldn't hear what he said next. He kicked my head and all I could hear was a loud ringing. My vision was bright. As I rolled into a fetal position I could see them all running. Everything was calm for a moment, but the pain didn't dull. Only the noise and brightness faded.  I flinched at the warm hand that grabbed my shoulder and rolled me over. 

"Y/N?" Two-bit asked, gripping my chin and examining my face. "You think you can walk?"

I couldn't move my mouth to even say yes, I just tried my best to get to my feet. I stumbled trying to walk in a straight line and fell against someone who was a lot more muscular than any of Johnny's friends I recognized out of the surrounding so far. I looked up and saw Darry Curtis holding me up. I vaguely remember him. He was a senior when I was a freshman.