You sat in the single person section of the drive in theatre with your boyfriend Dally. He didn’t have a car—in fact, the only reason he bothered getting his license is so he could immediately make a fake one to make it appear like he bought alcohol legally. Using said ID, he bought the alcohol and cigarettes you were both high on. A romance scene came on and he looked over at you. “Dals?” You asked him. “What do you want in the future?” You had thought about it previously. You wanted kids, marriage, everything. But you knew Dally probably wouldn’t want that. Dally wanted to party, to stay out late, to break into cars and drive them, then return them before anyone noticed they were missing. You were a goody two shoes, and if you were born on the other side of town you would be the perfect Soc. But you grew up on the East side, with the Curtis brothers, the Cades, and the Mathews. When you were 13, Dally came from New York City, and you were fascinated by him. You immediately clicked with him. A few years later, you both decided to date. Now, you two were here. “I dunno, doll. I love you, and I want to stay with you. I..I think i might marry ya, doll.”