The drive-in was the place to be every Friday night. Teens from the Socs and Greasers came about to blow off some steam, watch a movie, make out, you name it.

You sat beside your girl friends Beverly, Cherry, and Marcia—eyes on the screen ahead of you. You caught the sound of a few rowdy Greasers coming to sit behind you. You didn’t mind it too much, as long as they didn’t yap through the whole movie. Paul Newman was one of your favorites.

You felt as the solid boots of one of the Greasers hit your seat. You sighed softly, sipping your drink, but didn’t pay them any mind. You turned slightly, looking at them. A few Greasers, two of them young, one a little older, who was the one with his boots on your seat.

You turned back to the screen, crossing your arms. Suddenly, you felt a finger pulling at one of your curls. You froze, stiffening at the feeling. Swallowing hard, you turned back, meeting the eyes of the grease behind you. Then you realized who it was.

Two-Bit Matthews. He was in your grade—always kind of drunk or high, rowdy as can be. You’d talked a few times, maybe more than that as he was your lab partner all last semester.

You looked at him with wide eyes as he cocked his head at you. His friends watched intently, waiting for your reaction. Sucking in a breath, you knew Two-Bit was no real harm to you as you gently pulled the curl from his fingers and turned back to the screen.