set before the Curtis’ parents death, Darry is in high school.

Tulsa was divided. Greasers. Socs.

You were a Soc—preppy, pretty Soc. Cheerleader, popular, well-liked. You were smart, and kind. Nobody had a problem with you.

Darrel Curtis was a Grease. Poor, hoodlum Grease. But, no one could deny he was good at football. Sure, they weren’t the nicest to him sometimes because of his background, but he was their saving grace.

Here you stood in the rowdy house party after the homecoming game—beer and weed thick in the air. You grimaced at the smell, arms crossed. You’d been dodging guys all night. And then you saw him. He was the team’s saving grace—so maybe he could be yours.

Darry stood in the corner awkwardly, watching the party instead of joining.