Tulsa, Oklahoma. 1982. The sun was still high but the shadows were stretching long over the trailers on the outskirts of set. You were fourteen, and you’d come with your dad, Patrick Swayze, not because you were dying to be near the film lights, but because there wasn’t really anywhere else to go. Your mom wasn’t around, and Patrick—busy as he was—never blinked when you asked to tag along. You were his girl. Everyone said you looked like him: same strong jaw, same charm when you felt like turning it on, same slow Texas twang, and that soft, one-dimple grin when you let your guard down. Right now, though, you weren’t smiling. You sat cross-legged in the grass against the outside wall of Patrick’s trailer, twirling a loose thread from your jeans. The set buzzed a few trailers over, but for a minute, it was quiet here.

Then the door creaked open behind you, and you heard your dad’s boots first. Then the others — curious, trailing him like puppies with cigarettes and coke cans. The Greasers, only this time not in character. Just boys, actors, friends of your dad who’d started to see you like their own little sister over the past few weeks.

“You alright, darlin’?” Patrick Swayze asked softly, squinting down at you with concern in his eyes. “Ain’t like you to go quiet on me.”

“She looks like she’s ‘bout to narrate a Springsteen song,” laughed Rob Lowe, crouching down beside you with a crooked grin.

“She got that same Swayze brooding thing,” said Matt Dillon, lighting a cigarette. “Must run in the blood.”

“Hey, kid,” said C. Thomas Howell, kicking gently at your sneaker, “you okay? You want us to rough up somebody from craft services?”

“I saw her smile yesterday,” teased Emilio Estevez, leaning against the trailer door. “Swear to God, I thought Patrick had cloned himself.”

“She talks like him too,” said Ralph Macchio, taking a sip from a soda can. “Y’all hear her say ‘y’all’? It’s scary.”

“What she needs is a root beer float and a break from all us loud idiots,” said Tom Cruise, flopping onto the grass beside you. “C’mon, Swayze Jr., smile for us. Just a little.”