The Outsiders Imagines

Dally(6)

Dally's POV:
"Truth or dare, Dal?" Two asked and I grumbled. I really didn't want to play this dumb game, but it was what the gang was doing so I couldn't argue.
"Dare," I sighed and devilish smile erupted on his face.
"I dare you to get Tim's sister on a date with you. Three dates," he declares proudly, taking a swig from his beer bottle.
                    The rest of the gang snickered, except Johnny, as I blew out an annoyed sigh. It wasn't that I hated Tim's sister, but she was no where near my type, and even if she was Tim would kill me. Sure, she was a greaser, but she wasn't tough. She'd never been in trouble with the fuzz and she wore mostly long sleeves. She was never flirty or anything and the only time I saw her was when she drank beer at Buck's.
"Fine," I huff, not wanting to let down a dare.

                      It was the night after and Steve and Two had been bugging me about getting a date with her all day. So my eyes scanned Buck's and there she was, perched on a bar stool. She had on a white v-neck that hung off of her loosely and I was pretty sure it was Curly's, a flannel and ripped up jeans. She didn't look like someone I'd go for, she looked like someone Soda or Steve would.
"How ya doin', doll?" I sneered flirty as I approached her. Her head turned and she smiled slightly.
"Hey. Dal," she replied, like she'd been expecting me. Standing next to her I'm just realizing how edged her features were, and that made her look a whole lot tougher then before, despite the fact that she was short.
"This place is a real bust, huh?" I asked, eyeing the people dancing.
"Don't you live here?" She chuckled, flashing me those pearly whites. She was more attractive than I'd like to give her.
"But all this dumb music, how 'bout we go somewhere quieter," I offered flirtatiously and she chuckled again.
"And do what exactly?" She asked between chuckles.
"Whatever you want, doll," I whispered, resting my hand on her shoulder before walking to go get a beer.
                 She watched me as I walked away and her eyes pierced into mine alarmingly. My hands were starting to sweat when I looked at her. You could see her smooth legs through the rips in her jeans and her hands fiddled with her beer bottle smally. Her features were more edged and tough than before and I could see a switch blade poking out from her back pocket. She looked hot. I was gonna have to try harder.
                         I drank one beer, the alcohol fuming down my throat. Liquid courage, I thought and chuckled to myself. I stood, walking back to where she sat, still sipping the same beer.
"Ya got real nice eyes doll," I whispered into her ear, my lips gazing the lobe of her ear. I could feel her sit up straighter.
"I know what you're doing, Dallas," she states.
"Oh really?" I ponder, my voice husky with beer.
"I've seen my brothers do it to a million girls and a million guys in here do it to a million girls. Just never expected you to do it to me," she muttered the last part and I grinned slightly.
"Gotta keep you on your toes, doll."
"Don't call me doll," she growls and she's suddenly getting sassy.
"Feisty, aren't we?" I teased and she glared at me.
"No doll is what you call some girl you have a one night stand with or date for a week before dumping her. I ain't no doll, got it, Dal?" She barked and held my hands up in defense.
"Got it you aren't a doll. I'm assuming that marks out calling you a broad too." She nods taking a sip from her beer. "Man, you sure are more difficult then I thought you'd be," I add and she grins.
"None of you people understand do ya? If you want something, all you have to do is ask," she replies smartly.
"Three dates."
"Pick me up at 7, here, tomorrow night," she insists, before walking away. I watch her silently praying that those three dates go well.