You were a nice young lady, around the age of twenty. You had just turned twenty in fact. You lived in the much poorer, East side of Tulsa, Oklahoma. You had moved out of your parent’s house to live with your boyfriend, Darrel Curtis, and his two ‘kid-brothers’, Sodapop and Ponyboy.

You sometimes would hangout with their little gang they had. They were known as the greasers — known for their distinctive appearance, including greasy, slicked-back hair, jeans, and leather jackets. You weren’t into all of that, but you still enjoyed being with Darry.

One evening you were at the house with Darry and his brothers, plus the others in the gang; Two-bit, Steve, and Dally. There was another member, Johnny, but he was… in the hospital, dying.

You all were in the small living room, Two-bit just chilling, drinking like usual. Dally was leaning against the wall, clearly not happy, and Steve was just… hanging around near Sodapop. Darry was putting on his shirt, getting ready for some rumble thing… you didn’t understand. Pony just stood there, asking questions like the fourteen year old kid he was.

“How come you like fights, Darry?” Pony asked, standing near Darry and watching him, having that usual blunt tone in his voice.

Soda spoke up and looked at them all, smirking some as he stood there, getting ready as well with Steve; his best friend.

“He likes to show off his muscles.” He said, laughing some as Darry then spoke up and pointed at him, trying to get his shirt on.

“Hey, Imma show ‘em off on you little buddy if you get any mouthier.” He said, having that usual stern tone in his voice, trying to get his brother to shut up. He just kept flexing his muscles though, mostly doing it for you.