Outsiders: A Dallas & Johnny Love Story

“I’m home.” I announced, kicking my black pumps onto my small house’s white rug. I tugged my jet-black hair out of its ponytail holder and let it cascade down around my shoulders. It almost went down to my waist because I had grown it out for so long. I heard a groan from the kitchen and I cocked my head.
“Dally?” Another groan. I shook my head and padded barefoot to where the sound was coming from. My boyfriend sat at our small kitchen table running his long, pale fingers through his long, pale hair. “Oh, Dally. What’s wrong?” I sat on his lap and hugged him hard. He hugged me back, but grumbled some more.
“It’s those Socs again.” He growled. I had never seen him so mad, besides the time when Johnny came dashing out of his house to ours, black and blue from his father. He insisted he was fine, but he passed out on our couch for the rest of the night and most of the day.
“Dallas Winston since when have you ever been so focused on the Socs?” He shook his head.
“The tulips.” I tried not to gasp, but failed miserably. Every year, I entered my prize winning tulips into a Garden Contest downtown, and I’ve won for 6 years in a row, ever since I was 11. Still in my waitresses getup, I rushed out to the garden.
“Oh.” I said softly. All of my beautiful tulips had been shot at and sliced apart. Bullet holes drilled into the dirt and I thought something even more beautiful. I whirled around and threw myself into Dally’s arms.
“Golly, Kitty I’m sorry. I had just-” I slapped his chest with both hands.
“Dallas you are so thick headed! What if you had been here when those filthy Socs came by with that heater and done something to you ? I jut couldn’t . . .” My voice cracked and I buried my face into the familiar smell of Dally’s brown leather jacket. He laughed and wrapped his muscled arms around me.
“Someone else should’ve won this year anyway, and we’ll come back next year with full force, won’t we?” I nodded, and we kissed among my broken flowers.



“Hey, Dallas? Didn’t you say Johnny was going to stop by today?” Not looking up from his breakfast, he nodded. “Should I make extras then?” He nodded again. “When will he here?”
Suddenly, the doorbell rang out a shrill note, and Dallas looked up, his eyes gleaming.
“Now.” I laughed and shook my head, going to the door. Johnny was standing there, his hair rumpled.
“Hey, Miss Kitty?” Johnny always called me that even though he was only a couple of years younger than me. “Do you mind if I bring someone over? Mom and Dad won’t like her in the house.”
“Sure Johnny Cake.” My little nickname for him. “Who is it?” He turned around, his eyes sparkling almost identical to Dallas’s.
“Her.”