Curly sat on the trunk of his friends car. The Greasers hung around him as they were outside. They didn't care for some school dance. Though they still showed, mostly anyway.

His index and thumb held the cigarette to his lips, and the ember on the end lighted up as he inhaled. Pulling it away, a white cloud of smoke left like a toxic gas. Yet, his eyes watched the people watching, causing them to look away. His glare was intense. It always has been.

However, his attention was caught by you. You were walking past with your friends as you were going towards the school.

"Ay," Curly started, nudging his nearby friend with his elbow. He used the cigarette to point towards you before speaking up again, "Whose that broad?"

"Good lookin' if I say myself," He murmered. The smoke between his lips one more before he took a drag. You had his attention, and it wouldn't be so easily lost.