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Dallas Winston was one to do what he wanted.
I was naive enough to think that he would heed my advice because he loved me. I conveniently forgot about the fact that he also loves to beat the shit out of Socs. I let the red, blood color rush to my face and the heat burn in my chest as I heaved in anger only for me to calm down a few moments later. I couldn't be mad at Dallas Winston for going to a rumble.
He said it himself — "A rumble ain't a rumble without me!"
And hell broke loose. Pony was the first down with a punch to the nose, and I couldn't catch the second because it all happened so quickly. I watched as Steve threw a guy to the ground and spat on him, with Dallas a few feet way throwing a guy over his shoulder. Darry wasn't taking any hits. He plowed anybody who got in his way and kept by Pony's side so he didn't get too badly hurt.
I was off near one of the cars, behind it staring from afar as I shivered from the rain. I wrapped my jacket tight around me and placed my bag under it so Johnny's book wouldn't get wet. It was down-pouring and most of the boys didn't prepare for the weather. They were covered from their shoes to their hair in dirt and grime. My eyes were fixated on Dallas, who tossed a Soc to the ground, then threw a swing at another. I looked to Pony, Steve, and the rest of them to make sure nobody had been seriously hurt. Seemed to be winning, but the boys were getting beat pretty bad. I could already pick put some busted brows and lips.
The fight didn't last as long as I expected it to. Usually, the sides could tough it out longer, but the Socs didn't seem courageous enough to put up much of a fight. They must've recognized there was no winning when they were fighting against guys like Darrel Curtis and Dallas Winston. The sweater-vest clad boys scrambled off into the night, back to their white picket fence homes. The greaser side burst out cheers and hollered at the Socs as they ran, taunting them for their cowardliness.
I was able to come from behind the car and make myself visible once they'd gone off. The boys were in a circle giving each other chest bumps and hugging tightly under the heavy rain. I ran through the mud, my feet sinking into the ground and flinging it back onto my legs. I went straight to Dallas and grabbed his shoulders, turning him around so that we came face to face.
"You came," I said, sounding almost like a whisper under the pouring water.
"I had to." He swallowed. He had a few scratches and a busted lip, but other than that, he seemed okay. "We need to go. Where's Pony?"
I furrowed my brow, then glanced around, spotting Pony in an embrace with Soda. "What's the rush? Where are we going?"
His eyes shut, the rivulets of rainwater dripping from his long dark lashes. Running a hand down his face to dry it, he threw his head back and stared at the sky for a few moments before looking back at me. He was unwell. I knew when Dallas wasn't himself.
