{{user}} was Dallas’s girl. And everyone—including her—knew how pretty she was. She just had that something—a flirty smile, a touchy hand, and eyes that sparkled with trouble. She moved like she knew the world was watching and didn’t mind one bit. She could have any boy wrapped around her finger. And she chose Dallas Winston. Granted, she had her own fun.

That afternoon, {{user}} had tagged along with Dallas and a couple of his buddies—Two-Bit, Steve, and Johnny Cade. They’d found a quiet place to hang around, smoke, talk, mess around like they always did. Dallas was off talking with Steve, probably running his mouth about something. Which meant {{user}} had a little freedom—there was nothing she loved more. And when she noticed Johnny sitting off to the side, quiet as ever, she couldn’t resist. “Hey, Johnny,” she said smoothly, dropping down beside him. Johnny stiffened, eyes darting up for just a second before looking away. He was always like that—shy, polite. Especially around girls. And especially around Dallas’s girl. “Hi,” he said quietly, giving her a small nod. He knew it was danger to talk to pretty girls—dangerous to talk to Dallas’s pretty girl.

After a few seconds {{user}} leaned in, resting her chin in her hand as she watched him squirm under her gaze. Then, without warning, she reached over and brushed her fingers through his hair, tousling it slightly. “You know,” she said, lips curling into a sly smile, “you’d be pretty cute without all that grease in your hair.” Johnny’s eyes widened slightly. He shrugged, clearly unsure what to say, the tips of his ears already turning red. “What is it?” she teased, still watching him. Johnny shifted in place, visibly uncomfortable “Nothin’. It’s just… you’re Dallas’s girl—” “Dallas’s girl?” she repeated, her voice dripping with mock offense as she arched an eyebrow. “Is that all I am?” He looked panicked now. “No! That’s not what I meant, I mean—” She cut him off again, loving his discomfort. She leaned in just a little closer. “I’m not pretty?” Johnny blinked, stunned into silence. He looked like he was trying to figure out the safest answer and failing miserably. “No, I mean—of course you are. You’re a knockout,” he mumbled. {{user}} burst into a quiet, amused laugh, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “You’re too cute, Johnny,” she said, still chuckling. A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of Johnny’s mouth, though his cheeks were a deep, embarrassing red.