The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 2"Chapter IndexChapter 1............................................................................................................................. 3Chapter 2........................................................................................................................... 18Chapter 3........................................................................................................................... 33Chapter 4........................................................................................................................... 47Chapter 5........................................................................................................................... 59Chapter 6........................................................................................................................... 73Chapter 7........................................................................................................................... 85Chapter 8......................................................................................................................... 101Chapter 9......................................................................................................................... 112Chapter 10....................................................................................................................... 128Chapter 11....................................................................................................................... 138Chapter 12....................................................................................................................... 143 The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 3"Chapter 1WHEN I STEPPED OUT into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the moviehouse, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home. I was wishing Ilooked like Paul Newman--- he looks tough and I don't--- but I guess my own looks aren'tso bad. I have light-brown, almost-red hair and greenish-gray eyes. I wish they weremore gray, because I hate most guys that have green eyes, but I have to be content withwhat I have. My hair is longer than a lot of boys wear theirs, squared off in back and longat the front and sides, but I am a greaser and most of my neighborhood rarely bothers toget a haircut. Besides, I look better with long hair.I had a long walk home and no company, but I usually lone it anyway, for noreason except that I like to watch movies undisturbed so I can get into them and live themwith the actors. When I see a movie with someone it's kind of uncomfortable, like havingsomeone read your book over your shoulder. I'm different that way. I mean, my second-oldest brother, Soda, who is sixteen-going-on-seventeen, never cracks a book at all, andmy oldest brother, Darrel, who we call Darry, works too long and hard to be interested ina story or drawing a picture, so I'm not like them. And nobody in our gang digs moviesand books the way I do. For a while there, I thought I was the only person in the worldthat did. So I loned it.Soda tries to understand, at least, which is more than Darry does. But then, Sodais different from anybody; he understands everything, almost. Like he's never hollering atme all the time the way Darry is, or treating me as if I was six instead of fourteen. I loveSoda more than I've ever loved anyone, even Mom and Dad. He's always happy-go-luckyand grinning, while Darry's hard and firm and rarely grins at all. But then, Darry's gonethrough a lot in his twenty years, grown up too fast. Sodapop'll never grow up at all. Idon't know which way's the best. I'll find out one of these days.Anyway, I went on walking home, thinking about the movie, and then suddenlywishing I had some company. Greasers can't walk alone too much or they'll get jumped, The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 4"or someone will come by and scream "Greaser!" at them, which doesn't make you feeltoo hot, if you know what I mean. We get jumped by the Socs. I'm not sure how you spellit, but it's the abbreviation for the Socials, the jet set, the West-side rich kids. It's like theterm "greaser," which is used to class all us boys on the East Side.We're poorer than the Socs and the middle class. I reckon we're wilder, too. Notlike the Socs, who jump greasers and wreck houses and throw beer blasts for kicks, andget editorials in the paper for being a public disgrace one day and an asset to society thenext. Greasers are almost like hoods; we steal things and drive old souped-up cars andhold up gas stations and have a gang fight once in a while. I don't mean I do things likethat. Darry would kill me if I got into trouble with the police. Since Mom and Dad werekilled in an auto wreck, the three of us get to stay together only as long as we behave. SoSoda and I stay out of trouble as much as we can, and we're careful not to get caughtwhen we can't. I only mean that most greasers do things like that, just like we wear ourhair long and dress in blue jeans and T-shirts, or leave our shirttails out and wear leatherjackets and tennis shoes or boots. I'm not saying that either Socs orgreasers are better;that's just the way things are.I could have waited to go to the movies until Darry or Sodapop got off work.They would have gone with me, or driven me there, or walked along, although Soda justcan't sit still long enough to enjoy a movie and they bore Darry to death. Darry thinks hislife is enough without inspecting other people's. Or I could have gotten one of the gang tocome along, one of the four boys Darry and Soda and I have grown up with and considerfamily. We're almost as close as brothers; when you grow up in a tight-knit neighborhoodlike ours you get to know each other real well. If I had thought about it, I could havecalled Darry and he would have come by on his way home and picked me up, or Two-BitMathews--- one of our gang--- would have come to get me in his car if I had asked him,but sometimes I just don't use my head. It drives my brother Darry nuts when I do stufflike that, 'cause I'm supposed to be smart; I make good grades and have a high IQ andeverything, but I don't use my head. Besides, I like walking. The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 5"I about decided I didn't like it so much, though, when I spotted that red Corvairtrailing me. I was almost two blocks from home then, so I started walking a little faster. Ihad never been jumped, but I had seen Johnny after four Socs got hold of him, and itwasn't pretty. Johnny was scared of his own shadow after that. Johnny was sixteen then.I knew it wasn't any use though--- the fast walking, I mean--- even before theCorvair pulled up beside me and five Socs got out. I got pretty scared--- I'm kind of smallfor fourteen even though I have a good build, and those guys were bigger than me. Iautomatically hitched my thumbs in my jeans and slouched, wondering if I could getaway if I made a break for it. I remembered Johnny--- his face all cut up and bruised, andI remembered how he had cried when we found him, half-conscious, in the comer lot.Johnny had it awful rough at home--- it took a lot to make him cry.I was sweating something fierce, although I was cold. I could feel my palmsgetting clammy and the perspiration running down my back. I get like that when I'm realscared. I glanced around for a pop bottle or a stick or something--- Steve Randle, Soda'sbest buddy, had once held off four guys with a busted pop bottle--- but there was nothing.So I stood there like a bump on a log while they surrounded me. I don't use my head.They walked around slowly, silently, smiling."Hey, grease," one said in an over-friendly voice. "We're gonna do you a favor,greaser. We're gonna cut all that long greasy hair off."He had on a madras shirt. I can still see it. Blue madras. One of them laughed,then cussed me out in a low voice. I couldn't think of anything to say. There just isn't awhole lot you can say while waiting to get mugged, so I kept my mouth shut."Need a haircut, greaser?" The medium-sized blond pulled a knife out of his backpocket and flipped the blade open.I finally thought of something to say. "No." I was backing up, away from thatknife. Of course I backed right into one of them. They had me down in a second. Theyhad my arms and legs pinned down and one of them was sitting on my chest with his~ The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 6"knees on my elbows, and if you don't think that hurts, you're crazy. I could smell EnglishLeather shaving lotion and stale tobacco, and I wondered foolishly if I would suffocatebefore they did anything. I was scared so bad I was wishing I would. I fought to getloose, and almost did for a second; then they tightened up on me and the one on my chestslugged me a couple of times. So I lay still, swearing at them between gasps. A blade washeld against my throat."How'd you like that haircut to begin just below the chin?"It occurred to me then that they could kill me. I went wild. I started screaming forSoda, Darry, anyone. Someone put his hand over my mouth, and I bit it as hard as Icould, tasting the blood running through my teeth. I heard a muttered curse and gotslugged again, and they were stuffing a handkerchief in my mouth. One of them keptsaying, "Shut him up, for Pete's sake, shut him up!"Then there were shouts and the pounding of feet, and the Socs jumped up and leftme lying there, gasping. I lay there and wondered what in the world was happening---people were jumping over me and running by me and I was too dazed to figure it out.Then someone had me under the armpits and was hauling me to my feet. It was Darry."Are you all right, Ponyboy?"He was shaking me and I wished he'd stop. I was dizzy enough anyway. I couldtell it was Darry though--- partly because of the voice and partly because Darry's alwaysrough with me without meaning to be."I'm okay. Quit shaking me, Darry, I'm okay."He stopped instantly. "I'm sorry."He wasn't really. Darry isn't ever sorry for anything he does. It seems funny to methat he should look just exactly like my father and act exactly the opposite from him. Myfather was only forty when he died and he looked twenty-five and a lot of people thought The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 7"Darry and Dad were brothers instead of father and son. But they only looked alike--- myfather was never rough with anyone without meaning to be.Darry is six-feet-two, and broad-shouldered and muscular. He has dark-brownhair that kicks out in front and a slight cowlick in the back--- just like Dad's--- but Darry'seyes are his own. He's got eyes that are like two pieces of pale blue-green ice. They'vegot a determined set to them, like the rest of him. He looks older than twenty--- tough,cool, and smart. He would be real handsome if his eyes weren't so cold. He doesn'tunderstand anything that is not plain hard fact. But he uses his head.I sat down again, rubbing my cheek where I'd been slugged the most.Darry jammed his fists in his pockets. "They didn't hurt you too bad, did they?"They did. I was smarting and aching and my chest was sore and I was so nervousmy hands were shaking and I wanted to start bawling, but you just don't say that to Darry."I'm okay."Sodapop came loping back. By then I had figured that all the noise I had heardwas the gang coming to rescue me. He dropped down beside me, examining my head."You got cut up a little, huh, Ponyboy?"I only looked at him blankly. "I did?"He pulled out a handkerchief, wet the end of it with his tongue, and pressed itgently against the side of my head. "You're bleedin' like a stuck pig.""I am?""Look!" He showed me the handkerchief, reddened as if by magic. "Did they pulla blade on you?" The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 8"I remembered the voice: "Need a haircut, greaser?" The blade must have slippedwhile he was trying to shut me up. "Yeah."Soda is handsomer than anyone else I know. Not like Darry--- Soda's movie-starkind of handsome, the kind that people stop on the street to watch go by. He's not as tallas Darry, and he's a little slimmer, but he has a finely drawn, sensitive face that somehowmanages to be reckless and thoughtful at the same time. He's got dark-gold hair that hecombs back--- long and silky and straight--- and in the summer the sun bleaches it to ashining wheat gold. His eyes are dark brown--- lively, dancing, recklessly laughing eyesthat can be gentle and sympathetic one moment and blazing with anger the next. He hasDad's eyes, but Soda is one of a kind. He can get drunk in a drag race or dancing withoutever getting near alcohol. In our neighborhood it's rare to find a kid who doesn't drinkonce in a while. But Soda never touches a drop--- he doesn't need to. He gets drunk onjust plain living. And he understands everybody.He looked at me more closely. I looked away hurriedly, because, if you want toknow the truth, I was starting to bawl. I knew I was as white as I felt and I was shakinglike a leaf.Soda just put his hand on my shoulder. "Easy, Ponyboy. They ain't gonna hurtyou no more.""I know," I said, but the ground began to blur and I felt hot tears running downmy cheeks. I brushed them away impatiently. "I'm just a little spooked, that's all." I drewa quivering breath and quit crying. You just don't cry in front of Darry. Not unless you'rehurt like Johnny had been that day we found him in the vacant lot. Compared to Johnny Iwasn't hurt at all.Soda rubbed my hair. "You're an okay kid, Pony."I had to grin at him--- Soda can make you grin no matter what. I guess it's becausehe's always grinning so much himself. "You're crazy, Soda, out of your mind." The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 9"Darry looked as if he'd like to knock our heads together. "You're both nuts."Soda merely cocked one eyebrow, a trick he'd picked up from Two-Bit. "It seemsto run in this family."Darry stared at him for a second, then cracked a grin. Sodapop isn't afraid of himlike everyone else and enjoys teasing him. I'd just as soon tease a full-grown grizzly; butfor some reason, Darry seems to like being teased by Soda.Our gang had chased the Socs to their car and heaved rocks at them. They camerunning toward us now--- four lean, hard guys. They were all as tough as nails and lookedit. l had grown up with them, and they accepted me, even though I was younger, becauseI was Darry and Soda's kid brother and I kept my mouth shut good.Steve Randle was seventeen, tall and lean, with thick greasy hair he kept combedin complicated swirls. He was tacky, smart, and Soda's best buddy since grade school.Steve's specialty was cars. He could lift a hubcap quicker and more quietly than anyonein the neighborhood, but he also knew cars upside-down and backward, and he coulddrive anything on wheels. He and Soda worked at the same gas station--- Steve part timeand Soda full time--- and their station got more customers than any other in town.Whether that was because Steve was so good with cars or because Soda attracted girlslike honey draws flies, I couldn't tell you. I liked Steve only because he was Soda's bestfriend. He didn't like me--- he thought I was a tag-along and a kid; Soda always took mewith them when they went places if they weren't taking girls, and that bugged Steve. Itwasn't my fault; Soda always asked me; I didn't ask him. Soda doesn't think I'm a kid.Two-Bit Mathews was the oldest of the gang and the wisecracker of the bunch.He was about six feet tall, stocky in build, and very proud of his long rusty-coloredsideburns. He had gray eyes and a wide grin, and he couldn't stop making funny remarksto save his life. You couldn't shut up that guy; he always had to get his two-bits worth in.Hence his name. Even his teachers forgot his real name was Keith, and we hardlyremembered he had one. Life was one big joke to Two-Bit. He was famous forshoplifting and his black-handled switchblade (which he couldn't have acquired without The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 10"his first talent), and he was always smarting off to the cops. He really couldn't help it.Everything he said was so irresistibly funny that he just had to let the police in on it tobrighten up their dull lives. (That's the way he explained it to me.) He liked fights,blondes, and for some unfathomable reason, school. He was still a junior at eighteen anda half and he never learned anything. He just went for kicks. I liked him real well becausehe kept us laughing at ourselves as well as at other things. He reminded me of WillRogers--- maybe it was the grin.If I had to pick the real character of the gang, it would be Dallas Winston--- Dally.I used to like to draw his picture when he was in a dangerous mood, for then I could gethis personality down in a few lines. He had an elfish face, with high cheekbones and apointed chin, small, sharp animal teeth, and ears like a lynx. His hair was almost white itwas so blond, and he didn't like haircuts, or hair oil either, so it fell over his forehead inwisps and kicked out in the back in tufts and curled behind his ears and along the nape ofhis neck. His eyes were blue, blazing ice, cold with a hatred of the whole world. Dallyhad spent three years on the wild side of New York and had been arrested at the age often. He was tougher than the rest of us--- tougher, colder, meaner. The shade ofdifference that separates a greaser from a hood wasn't present in Dally. He was as wild asthe boys in the downtown outfits, like Tim Shepard's gang.In New York, Dally blew off steam in gang fights, but here, organized gangs arerarities--- there are just small bunches of friends who stick together, and the warfare isbetween the social classes. A rumble, when it's called, is usually born of a grudge fight,and the opponents just happen to bring their friends along. Oh, there are a few namedgangs around, like the River Kings and the Tiber Street Tigers, but here in the Southwestthere's no gang rivalry. So Dally, even though he could get into a good fight sometimes,had no specific thing to hate. No rival gang. Only Socs. And you can't win against themno matter how hard you try, because they've got all the breaks and even whipping themisn't going to change that fact. Maybe that was why Dallas was so bitter.He had quite a reputation. They have a file on him down at the police station. Hehad been arrested, he got drunk, he rode in rodeos, lied, cheated, stole, rolled drunks, The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 11"jumped small kids--- he did everything. I didn't like him, but he was smart and you had torespect him.Johnny Cade was last and least. If you can picture a little dark puppy that hasbeen kicked too many times and is lost in a crowd of strangers, you'll have Johnny. Hewas the youngest, next to me, smaller than the rest, with a slight build. He had big blackeyes in a dark tanned face; his hair was jet-black and heavily greased and combed to theside, but it was so long that it fell in shaggy bangs across his forehead. He had a nervous,suspicious look in his eyes, and that beating he got from the Socs didn't help matters. Hewas the gang's pet, everyone's kid brother. His father was always beating him up, and hismother ignored him, except when she was hacked off at something, and then you couldhear her yelling at him clear down at our house. I think he hated that worse than gettingwhipped. He would have run away a million times if we hadn't been there. If it hadn'tbeen for the gang, Johnny would never have known what love and affection are.I wiped my eyes hurriedly. "Didya catch 'em?""Nup. They got away this time, the dirty..." Two-Bit went on cheerfully, callingthe Socs every name he could think of or make up."The kid's okay?""I'm okay." I tried to think of something to say. I'm usually pretty quiet arotmdpeople, even the gang. I changed the subject. "I didn't know you were out of the cooleryet, Dally.""Good behavior. Got off early." Dallas lit a cigarette and handed it to Johnny.Everyone sat down to have a smoke and relax. A smoke always lessens the tension. I hadquit trembling and my color was back. The cigarette was calming me down. Two-Bitcocked an eyebrow. "Nice-lookin' bruise you got there, kid."I touched my cheek gingerly. "Really?"Two-Bit nodded sagely. "Nice cut, too. Makes you look tough." The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 12"Tough and tuff are two different words. Tough is the same as rough; tuff meanscool, sharp--- like a tuff-looking Mustang or a tuff record. In our neighborhood both arecompliments.Steve flicked his ashes at me. "What were you doin', walkin' by your lonesome?"Leave it to good old Steve to bring up something like that."I was comin' home from the movies. I didn't think...""You don't ever think," Darry broke in, "not at home or anywhere when it counts.You must think at school, with all those good grades you bring home, and you've alwaysgot your nose in a book, but do you ever use your head for common sense? No sirree,bub. And if you did have to go by yourself, you should have carried a blade."I just stared at the hole in the toe of my tennis shoe. Me and Darry just didn't digeach other. I never could please him. He would have hollered at me for carrying a blade ifI had carried one. If I brought home B's, he wanted A's, and if I got A's, he wanted tomake sure they stayed A's. If I was playing football, I should be in studying, and if I wasreading, I should be out playing football. He never hollered at Sodapop--- not even whenSoda dropped out of school or got tickets for speeding. He just hollered at me.Soda was glaring at him. "Leave my kid brother alone, you hear? It ain't his faulthe likes to go to the movies, and it ain't his fault the Socs like to jump us, and if he hadbeen carrying a blade it would have been a good excuse to cut him to ribbons."Soda always takes up for me.Darry said impatiently, "When I want my kid brother to tell me what to do withmy other kid brother, I'll ask you-- kid brother." But he laid off me. He always does whenSodapop tells him to. Most of the time."Next time get one of us to go with you, Ponyboy," Two-Bit said. "Any of uswill." The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 13""Speakin' of movies"--- Dally yawned, flipping away his cigarette butt--- "I'mwalkin' over to the Nightly Double tomorrow night. Anybody want to come and huntsome action?"Steve shook his head. "Me and Soda are pickin' up Evie and Sandy for the game."He didn't need to look at me the way he did right then. I wasn't going to ask if Icould come. I'd never tell Soda, because he really likes Steve a lot, but sometimes I can'tstand Steve Randle. I mean it. Sometimes I hate him.Darry sighed, just like I knew he would. Darry never had time to do anythinganymore. "I'm working tomorrow night."Dally looked at the rest of us. "How about y'all? Two-Bit? Johnnycake, you andPony wanta come?""Me and Johnny'll come," I said. I knew Johnny wouldn't open his mouth unlesshe was forced to. "Okay, Darry?""Yeah, since it ain't a school night." Darry was real good about letting me goplaces on the weekends. On school nights I could hardly leave the house."I was plannin' on getting boozed up tomorrow night," Two-Bit said. "If I don't,I'll walk over and find y'all."Steve was looking at Dally's hand. His ring, which he had rolled a drunk senior toget, was back on his finger. "You break up with Sylvia again?""Yeah, and this time it's for good. That little broad was two-timin' me again whileI was in jail."I thought of Sylvia and Evie and Sandy and Two-Bit's many blondes. They werethe only kind of girls that would look at us, I thought. Tough, loud girls who wore toomuch eye makeup and giggled and swore too much. I liked Soda's girl Sandy just fine, The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 14"though. Her hair was natural blond and her laugh was soft, like her china-blue eyes. Shedidn't have a real good home or anything and was our kind--- greaser--- but she was a realnice girl. Still, lots of times I wondered what other girls were like. The girls who werebright-eyed and had their dresses a decent length and acted as if they'd like to spit on us ifgiven a chance. Some were afraid of us, and remembering Dallas Winston, I didn't blamethem. But most looked at us like we were dirt--- gave us the same kind of look that theSocs did when they came by in their Mustangs and Corvairs and yelled "Grease!" at us. Iwondered about them. The girls, I mean... Did they cry when their boys were arrested,like Evie did when Steve got hauled in, or did they run out on them the way Sylvia didDallas? But maybe their boys didn't get arrested or beaten up or busted up in rodeos.I was still thinking about it while I was doing my homework that night. I had toread Great Expectations for English, and that kid Pip, he reminded me of us--- the way hefelt marked lousy because he wasn't a gentleman or anything, and the way that girl keptlooking down on him. That happened to me once. One time in biology I had to dissect aworm, and the razor wouldn't cut, so I used my switchblade. The minute I flicked it out---I forgot what I was doing or I would never have done it--- this girl right beside me kindof gasped, and said, "They are right. You are a hood." That didn't make me feel so hot.These were a lot of Socs in that class--- I get put into A classes because I'm supposed tobe smart--- and most of them thought it was pretty funny. I didn't, though. She was a cutegirl. She looked real good in yellow.We deserve a lot of our trouble, I thought. Dallas deserves everything he gets, andshould get worse, if you want the truth. And Two-Bit--- he doesn't really want or needhalf the things he swipes from stores. He just thinks it's fun to swipe everything that isn'tnailed down. I can understand why Sodapop and Steve get into drag races and fights somuch, though--- both of them have too much energy, too much feeling, with no way toblow it off."Rub harder, Soda," I heard Darry mumbling. "You're gonna put me to sleep." The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 15"I looked through the door. Sodapop was giving Darry a back-rub. Darry is alwayspulling muscles; he roofs houses and he's always trying to carry two bundles of roofingup the ladder. I knew Soda would put him to sleep, because Soda can put about anyoneout when he sets his head to it. He thought Darry worked too hard anyway. I did, too.Darry didn't deserve to work like an old man when he was only twenty. He hadbeen a real popular guy in school; he was captain of the football team and he had beenvoted Boy of the Year. But we just didn't have the money for him to go to college, evenwith the athletic scholarship he won. And now he didn't have time between jobs to eventhink about college. So he never went anywhere and never did anything anymore, exceptwork out at gyms and go skiing with some old friends of his sometimes.I rubbed my cheek where it had turned purple. I had looked in the mirror, and itdid make me look tough. But Darry had made me put a Band-Aid on the cut.I remembered how awful Johnny had looked when he got beaten up. I had just asmuch right to use the streets as the Socs did, and Johnny had never hurt them. Why didthe Socs hate us so much? We left them alone. I nearly went to sleep over my homeworktrying to figure it out.Sodapop, who had jumped into bed by this time, yelled sleepily for me to turn offthe light and get to bed. When I finished the chapter I was on, I did.Lying beside Soda, staring at the wall, I kept remembering the faces of the Socsas they surrounded me, that blue madras shirt the blond was wearing, and I could stillhear a thick voice: "Need a haircut, greaser?" I shivered."You cold, Ponyboy?""A little;" I lied. Soda threw one arm across my neck. He mumbled somethingdrowsily. "Listen, kiddo, when Darry hollers at you... he don't mean nothin'. He's just gotmore worries than somebody his age ought to. Don't take him serious... you dig, Pony? The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 16"Don't let him bug you. He's really proud of you 'cause you're so brainy. It's just becauseyou're the baby--- I mean, he loves you a lot. Savvy?""Sure," I said, trying for Soda's sake to keep the sarcasm out of my voice."Soda?""Yeah?""How come you dropped out?" I never have gotten over that. I could hardly standit when he left school." 'Cause I'm dumb. The only things I was passing anyway were auto mechanicsand gym.""You're not dumb.""Yeah, I am. Shut up and I'll tell you something. Don't tell Darry, though.""Okay.""I think I'm gonna marry Sandy. After she gets out of school and I get a better joband everything. I might wait till you get out of school, though. So I can still help Darrywith the bills and stuff.""Tuff enough. Wait till I get out, though, so you can keep Darry off my back.""Don't be like that, kid. I told you he don't mean half of what he says...""You in love with Sandy? What's it like?""Hhhmmm." He sighed happily. "It's real nice."In a moment his breathing was light and regular. I turned my head to look at himand in the moonlight he looked like some Greek god come to earth. I wondered how hecould stand being so handsome. Then I sighed. I didn't quite get what he meant about The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 17"Darry. Darry thought I was just another mouth to feed and somebody to holler at. Darrylove me? I thought of those hard, pale eyes. Soda was wrong for once, I thought. Darrydoesn't love anyone or anything, except maybe Soda. I didn't hardly think of him as beinghuman. I don't care, I lied to myself, I don't care about him either. Soda's enough, and I'dhave him until I got out of school. I don't care about Darry. But I was still lying and Iknew it. I lie to myself all the time. But I never believe me. The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 18"Chapter 2DALLY WAS WAITING for Johnny and me under the street light at the cornerof Pickett and Sutton, and since we got there early, we had time to go over the drugstorein the shopping center and goof around. We bought Cokes and blew the straws at thewaitress, and walked around eyeing things that were lying out in the open until themanager got wise to us and suggested we leave. He was too late, though; Dally walkedout with two packages of Kools under his jacket.Then we went across the street and down Sutton a little way to The Dingo. Thereare lots of drive-ins in town--- the Socs go to The Way Out and to Rusty's, and thegreasers go to The Dingo and to Jay's. The Dingo is a pretty rough hangout; there'salways a fight going on there and once a girl got shot. We walked around talking to allthe greasers and hoods we knew, leaning in car windows or hopping into the back seats,and getting in on who was running away, and who was in jail, and who was going withwho, and who could whip who, and who stole what and when and why. We knew abouteverybody there. There was a pretty good fight while we were there between a bigtwenty-three-year-old greaser and a Mexican hitchhiker. We left when the switchbladescame out, because the cops would be coming soon and nobody in his right mind wants tobe around when the fuzz show.We crossed Sutton and cut around behind Spencer's Special, the discount house,and chased two junior-high kids across a field for a few minutes; by then it was darkenough to sneak in over the back fence of the Nightly Double drive-in movie. It was thebiggest in town, and showed two movies every night, and on weekends four--- you couldsay you were going to the Nightly Double and have time to go all over town.We all had the money to get in--- it only costs a quarter if you're not in a car--- butDally hated to do things the legal way. He liked to show that he didn't care whether therewas a law or not. He went around trying to break laws. We went to the rows of seats infront of the concession stand to sit down. Nobody else was there except two girls whowere sitting down front. Dally eyed them coolly, then walked down the aisle and sat right The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 19"behind them. I had a sick feeling that Dally was up to his usual tricks, and I was right. Hestarted talking, loud enough for the two girls to hear. He started out bad and got worse.Dallas could talk awful dirty if he wanted to and I guess he wanted to then. I felt my earsget hot. Two-Bit or Steve or even Soda would have gone right along with him, just to seeif they could embarrass the girls, but that kind of kicks just doesn't appeal to me. I satthere, struck dumb, and Johnny left hastily to get a Coke.I wouldn't have felt so embarrassed if they had been greasy girls--- I might evenhave helped old Dallas. But those two girls weren't our kind. They were tuff-lookinggirls--- dressed sharp and really good-looking. They looked about sixteen or seventeen.One had short dark hair, and the other had long red hair. The redhead was getting mad, orscared. She sat up straight and she was chewing hard on her gum. The other onepretended not to hear Dally. Dally was getting impatient. He put his feet up on the backof the redhead's chair, winked at me, and beat his own record for saying something dirty.She turned around and gave him a cool stare."Take your feet off my chair and shut your trap."Boy, she was good-looking. I'd seen her before; she was a cheerleader at ourschool. I'd always thought she was stuck-up.Dally merely looked at her and kept his feet where they were. "Who's gonna makeme?"The other one fumed around and watched us. "That's the greaser that jockeys forthe Slash J sometime," she said, as if we couldn't hear her.I had heard the same tone a million times: "Greaser... greaser... greaser." Oh yeah,I had heard that tone before too many times. What are they doing at a drive-in without acar? I thought, and Dallas said, "I know you two. I've seen you around rodeos.""It's a shame you can't ride bull half as good as you can talk it," the redhead saidcoolly and turned back around. The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 20"That didn't bother Dally in the least. "You two barrel race, huh?""You'd better leave us alone," the redhead said in a biting voice, "or I'll call thecops.""Oh, my, my"--- Dally looked bored--- "you've got me scared to death. You oughtto see my record sometime, baby." He grinned slyly. "Guess what I've been in for?""Please leave us alone," she said. "Why don't you be nice and leave us alone?"Dally grinned roguishly. "I'm never nice. Want a Coke?"She was mad by then. "I wouldn't drink it if I was starving in the desert. Get lost,hood!"Dally merely shrugged and strolled off.The girl looked at me. I was half-scared of her. I'm half-scared of all nice girls,especially Socs. "Are you going to start in on us?"I shook my head, wide-eyed. "No."Suddenly she smiled. Gosh, she was pretty. "You don't look the type. What's yourname?"I wished she hadn't asked me that. I hate to tell people my name for the first time."Ponyboy Curtis."Then I waited for the "You're kidding!" or "That's your real name?" or one of theother remarks I usually get. Ponyboy's my real name and personally I like it.The redhead just smiled. "That's an original and lovely name.""My dad was an original person," I said. "I've got a brother named Sodapop, andit says so on his birth certificate." The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 21""My name's Sherri, but I'm called Cherry because of my hair. Cherry Valance.""I know," I said. "You're a cheerleader. We go to the same school.""You don't look old enough to be going to high school," the dark-haired girl said."I'm not. I got put up a year in grade school."Cherry was looking at me. "What's a nice, smart kid like you running around withtrash like that for?"I felt myself stiffen. "I'm a grease, same as Dally. He's my buddy.""I'm sorry, Ponyboy," she said softly. Then she said briskly, "Your brotherSodapop, does he work at a gasoline station? A DX, I think?""Yeah.""Man, your brother is one doll. I might have guessed you were brothers--- youlook alike."I grinned with pride--- I don't think I look one bit like Soda, but it's not every dayI hear Socs telling me they think my brother is a doll."Didn't he used to ride in rodeos? Saddle bronc?""Yeah. Dad made him quit after he tore a ligament, though. We still hang aroundrodeos a lot. I've seen you two barrel race. You're good.""Thanks," Cherry said, and the other girl, who was named Marcia, said, "Howcome we don't see your brother at school? He's not any older than sixteen or seventeen, ishe?"I winced inside. I've told you I can't stand it that Soda dropped out. "He's adropout," I said roughly. "Dropout" made me think of some poor dumb-looking hoodlum The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 22"wandering the streets breaking out street lights--- it didn't fit my happy-go-lucky brotherat all. It fitted Dally perfectly, but you could hardly say it about Soda.Johnny came back then and sat down beside me. He looked around for Dally, thenmanaged a shy "Hi" to the girls and tried to watch the movie. He was nervous, though.Johnny was always nervous around strangers. Cherry looked at him, sizing him up as shehad me. Then she smiled softly, and I knew she had him sized up right.Dally came striding back with an armful of Cokes. He handed one to each of thegirls and sat down beside Cherry. "This might cool you off."She gave him an incredulous look; and then she threw her Coke in his face. "Thatmight cool you off, greaser. After you wash your mouth and learn to talk and act decent, Imight cool off, too."Dally wiped the Coke off his face with his sleeve and smiled dangerously. If I hadbeen Cherry I would have beat it out of there. I knew that smile."Fiery, huh? Well, that's the way I like 'em." He started to put his arm around her,but Johnny reached over and stopped him."Leave her alone, Dally.""Huh?" Dally was taken off guard. He stared at Johnny in disbelief. Johnnycouldn't say "Boo" to a goose. Johnny gulped and got a little pale, but he said, "Youheard me. Leave her alone."Dallas scowled for a second. If it had been me, or Two-Bit, or Soda or Steve, oranyone but Johnny, Dally would have flattened him without a moment's hesitation. Youjust didn't tell Dally Winston what to do. One time, in a dime store, a guy told him tomove over at the candy counter. Dally had turned around and belted him so hard itknocked a tooth loose. A complete stranger, too. But Johnny was the gang's pet, andDally just couldn't hit him. He was Dally's pet, too. Dally got up and stalked off, his fistsjammed in his pockets and a frown on his face. He didn't come back. The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 23"Cherry sighed in relief. "Thanks. He had me scared to death."Johnny managed an admiring grin. "You sure didn't show it. Nobody talks toDally like that."She smiled, "From what I saw, you do."Johnny's ears got red. I was still staring at him. It had taken more than nerve forhim to say what he'd said to Dally--- Johnny worshiped the ground Dallas walked on, andI had never heard Johnny talk back to anyone, much less his hero.Marcia grinned at us. She was a little smaller than Cherry. She was cute, but thatCherry Valance was a real looker. "Y'all sit up here with us. You can protect us."Johnny and I looked at each other. He grinned suddenly, raising his eyebrows sothat they disappeared under his bangs. Would we ever have something to tell the boys!his eyes said plainly. We had picked up two girls, and classy ones at that. Not any greasybroads for us, but real Socs. Soda would flip when I told him."Okay," I said nonchalantly, "might as well."I sat between them, and Johnny sat next to Cherry."How old are y'all?" Marcia asked."Fourteen," I said."Sixteen," said Johnny.'That's funny," Marcia said, "I thought you were both...""Sixteen," Cherry finished for her.I was grateful. Johnny looked fourteen and he knew it and it bugged himsomething awful. The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 24"Johnny grinned. "How come y'all ain't scared of us like you were Dally?"Cherry sighed. "You two are too sweet to scare anyone. First of all, you didn't joinin Dallas's dirty talk, and you made him leave us alone. Aid when we asked you to sit uphere with us, you didn't act like it was an invitation to make out for the night. Besidesthat, I've heard about Dallas Winston, and he looked as hard as nails and twice as tough.And you two don't look mean.""Sure," I said tiredly, "we're young and innocent""No," Cherry said slowly, looking at me carefully, "not innocent. You've seen toomuch to be innocent. Just not... dirty.""Dally's okay," Johnny said defensively, and I nodded. You take up for yourbuddies, no matter what they do. When you're a gang, you stick up for the members. Ifyou don't stickup for them, stick together, make like brothers, it isn't a gang any more. It'sa pack. A snarling, distrustful, bickering pack like the Socs in their social clubs or thestreet gangs in New York or the wolves in the timber. "He's tough, but he's a cool oldguy.""He'd leave you alone if he knew you," I said, and that was true. When Steve'scousin from Kansas came down, Dally was decent to her and watched his swearing. Weall did around nice girls who were the cousinly type. I don't know how to explain it--- wetry to be nice to the girls we see once in awhile, like cousins or the girls in class; but westill watch a nice girl go by on a street corner and say all kinds of lousy stuff about her.Don't ask me why. I don't know why."Well," Marcia said with finality, "I'm glad he doesn't know us.""I kind of admire him," Cherry said softly, so only I heard, and then we settleddown to watch the movie. The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 25"Oh, yeah, we found out why they were without a car. They'd come with theirboyfriends, but walked out on them when they found out the boys had brought somebooze along. The boys had gotten angry and left."I don't care if they did." Cherry sounded annoyed. "It's not my idea of a goodtime to sit in a drive-in and watch people get drunk."You could tell by the way she said it that her idea of a good time was probably,high-class, and probably expensive. They'd decided to stay and see the movie anyway. Itwas one of those beach-party movies with no plot and no acting but a lot of girls inbikinis and some swinging songs, so it was all right. We were all four sitting there insilence when suddenly a strong hand came down on Johnny's shoulder and another onmine and a deep voice said, "Okay, greasers, you've had it"I almost jumped out of my skin. It was like having someone leap out from behinda door and yell "Boo!" at you.I looked fearfully over my shoulder and there was Two-Bit, grinning like aChessy cat. "Glory, Two-Bit, scare us to death!" He was good at voice imitations and hadsounded for all the world like a snarling Soc. Then I looked at Johnny. His eyes were shutand he was as white as a ghost. His breath was coming in smothered gasps. Two-Bitknew better than to scare Johnny like that. I guess he'd forgotten. He's kind ofscatterbrained. Johnny opened his eyes and said weakly, "Hey, Two-Bit."Two-Bit messed up his hair, "Sorry, kid," he said, "I forgot."He climbed over the chair and plopped down beside Marcia. "Who's this, yourgreat-aunts?""Great-grandmothers, twice removed," Cherry said smoothly.I couldn't tell if Two-Bit was drunk or not. It's kind of hard to tell with him--- heacts boozed up sometimes even when he's sober. He cocked one eyebrow up and the The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 26"other down, which he always does when something puzzles him, or bothers him, or whenhe feels like saying something smart. "Shoot, you're ninety-six if you're a day.""I'm a night," Marcia said brightly.Two-Bit stared at her admiringly. "Brother, you're a sharp one. Where'd you twoever get to be picked up by a couple of greasy hoods like Pony and Johnny?""We really picked them up," Marcia said. "We're really Arabian slave traders andwe're thinking about shanghaiing them. They're worth ten camels apiece at least.""Five," Two-Bit disagreed. "They don't talk Arabian, I don't think. Say somethin'in Arabian, Johnnycake.""Aw, cut it out!" Johnny broke in. "Dally was bothering them and when he leftthey wanted us to sit with them to protect them. Against wisecracking greasers like you,probably."Two-Bit grinned, because Johnny didn't usually get sassy like that. We thoughtwe were doing good if we could get him to talk at all. Incidentally, we don't mind beingcalled greaser by another greaser. It's kind of playful then."Hey, where is of Dally, anyways?""He went hunting some action--- booze or dames or a fight. I hope he don't getjailed again. He just got out""He'll probably find the fight," Two-Bit stated cheerfully. "That's why I cameover. Mr. Timothy Shepard and Co. are looking for whoever so kindly slashed their car'stires, and since Mr. Curly Shepard spotted Dallas doing it... well... Does Dally have ablade?""Not that I know of," I said. "I think he's got a piece of pipe, but he busted hisblade this morning." The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 27""Good. Tim'll fight fair if Dally don't pull a blade on him. Dally shouldn't haveany trouble."Cherry and Marcia were staring at us. "You don't believe in playing rough oranything, do you?""A fair fight isn't rough;' Two-Bit said. "Blades are rough. So are chains andheaters and pool sticks and rumbles. Skin fighting isn't rough. It blows off steam betterthan anything. There's nothing wrong with throwing a few punches. Socs are rough. Theygang up on one or two, or they rumble each other with their social clubs. Us greasersusually stick together, but when we do fight among ourselves, it's a fair fight betweentwo. And Dally deserves whatever he gets, 'cause slashed tires ain't no joke when you'vegot to work to pay for them. He got spotted, too, and that was his fault. Our one rule,besides Stick together, is Don't get caught. He might get beat up, he might not. Eitherway there's not going to be any blood feud between our outfit and Shepard's, If weneeded them tomorrow they'd show. If Tim beats Dally's head in, and then tomorrow asksus for help in a rumble, we'll show. Dally was getting kicks. He got caught. He pays up.No sweat.""Yeah, boy," Cherry said sarcastically, "real simple.""Sure," Marcia said, unconcerned. "If he gets killed or something, you just buryhim. No sweat""You dig okay, baby." Two-Bit grinned and lit a cigarette. "Anyone want aweed?"I looked at Two-Bit admiringly. He sure put things into words good. Maybe hewas still a junior at eighteen and a half, and maybe his sideburns were too long, andmaybe he did get boozed up too much, but he sure understood things. The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 28"Cherry and Marcia shook their heads at his offering of cigarettes, but Johnny andI reached for one. Johnny's color was back and his breathing was regular, but his handwas shaking ever so slightly. A cigarette would steady it."Ponyboy, will you come with me to get some popcorn?" Cherry asked.I jumped up. "Sure. Y'all want some?""I do," said Marcia. She was finishing the Coke Dally had given her. I realizedthen that Marcia and Cherry weren't alike. Cherry had said she wouldn't drink Dally'sCoke if she was starving, and she meant it. It was the principle of the thing. But Marciasaw no reason to throw away a perfectly good, free Coke."Me too," said Two-Bit. He flipped me a fifty cent piece. "Get Johnny some, too.I'm buyin'," he added as Johnny started to reach into his jeans pocket.We went to the concession stand and, as usual, there was a line a mile long, so wehad to wait. Quite a few kids turned to look at us--- you didn't see a kid grease and a Socycheerleader together often. Cherry didn't seem to notice."Your friend--- the one with the sideburns--- he's okay?""He ain't dangerous like Dallas if that's what you mean. He's okay."She smiled and her eyes showed that her mind was on something else. "Johnny...he's been hurt bad sometime, hasn't he?" It was more of a statement than a question."Hurt and scared.""It was the Socs," I said nervously, because there were plenty of Socs millingaround and some of them were giving me funny looks, as if I shouldn't be with Cherry orsomething. And I don't like to talk about it either--- Johnny getting beat up, I mean. But Istarted in, talking a little faster than I usually do because I don't like to think about iteither. The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 29"IT WAS ALMOST four months ago. I had walked down to the DX station to geta bottle of pop and to see Steve and Soda, because they'll always buy me a couple ofbottles and let me help work on the cars. I don't like to go on weekends because thenthere is usually a bunch of girls down there flirting with Soda--- all kinds of girls, Socstoo. I don't care too much for girls yet. Soda says I'll grow out of it. He did.It was a warmish spring day with the sun shining bright, but it was getting chillyand dark by the time we started for home. We were walking because we had left Steve'scar at the station. At the corner of our block there's a wide, open field where we playfootball and hang out, and it's often a site for rumbles and fist fights. We were passing it,kicking rocks down the street and finishing our last bottle of Pepsi, when Steve noticedsomething lying on the ground. He picked it up. It was Johnny's blue-jeans jacket--- theonly jacket he had."Looks like Johnny forgot his jacket," Steve said, slinging it over his shoulder totake it by Johnny's house. Suddenly he stopped and examined it more carefully. Therewas a stain the color of rust across the collar. He looked at the ground. There were somemore stains on the grass. He looked up and across the field with a stricken expression onhis face. I think we all heard the low moan and saw the dark motionless hump on theother side of the lot at the same time. Soda reached him first. Johnny was lying face downon the ground. Soda turned him over gently, and I nearly got sick. Someone had beatenhim badly.We were used to seeing Johnny banged up--- his father clobbered him around alot, and although it made us madder than heck, we couldn't do anything about it. Butthose beatings had been nothing like this. Johnny's face was cut up and bruised andswollen, and there was a wide gash from his temple to his cheekbone. He would carrythat scar all his life. His white T-shirt was splattered with blood. I just stood there,trembling with sudden cold. I thought he might be dead; surely nobody could be beatenlike that and live. Steve closed his eyes for a second and muffled a groan as he droppedon his knees beside Soda. The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 30"Somehow the gang sensed what had happened. Two-Bit was suddenly therebeside me, and for once his comical grin was gone and his dancing gray eyes werestormy. Darry had seen us from our porch and ran toward us, suddenly skidding to a halt.Dally was there, too, swearing under his breath, and turning away with a sick expressionon his face. I wondered about it vaguely. Dally had seen people killed on the streets ofNew York's West Side. Why did he look sick now?"Johnny?" Soda lifted him up and held him against his shoulder. He gave the limpbody a slight shake. "Hey, Johnnycake."Johnny didn't open his eyes, but there came a soft question. "Soda?""Yeah, it's me," Sodapop said. "Don't talk. You're gonna be okay.""There was a whole bunch of them," Johnny went on, swallowing, ignoringSoda's command. "A blue Mustang full... I got so scared..." He tried to swear, butsuddenly started crying, fighting to control himself, then sobbing all the more because hecouldn't. I had seen Johnny take a whipping with a two-by-four from his old man andnever let out a whimper. That made it worse to see him break now. Soda just held himand pushed Johnny's hair back out of his eyes. "It's okay, Johnnycake, they're gone now.It's okay."Finally, between sobs, Johnny managed to gasp out his story. He had beenhunting our football to practice a few kicks when a blue Mustang had pulled up besidethe lot. There were four Socs in it. They had caught him and one of them had a lot ofrings on his hand--- that's what had cut Johnny up so badly. It wasn't just that they hadbeaten him half to death--- he could take that. They had scared him. They had threatenedhim with everything under the sun. Johnny was high-strung anyway, a nervous wreckfrom getting belted every time he turned around and from hearing his parents fight all thetime. Living in those conditions might have turned someone else rebellious and bitter; itwas killing Johnny. He had never been a coward. He was a good man in a rumble. Hestuck up for the gang and kept his mouth shut good around cops. But after the night of thebeating, Johnny was jumpier than ever. I didn't think he'd ever get over it. Johnny never The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 31"walked by himself after that. And Johnny, who was the most law-abiding of us, nowcarried in his back pocket a six-inch switchblade. He'd use it, too, if he ever got jumpedagain. They had scared him that much. He would kill the next person who jumped him.Nobody was ever going to beat him like that again. Not over his dead body...I HAD NEARLY forgotten that Cherry was listening to me. But when I cameback to reality and looked at her, I was startled to find her as white as a sheet."All Socs aren't like that," she said. "You have to believe me, Ponyboy. Not all ofus are like that.""Sure," I said."That's like saying all you greasers are like Dallas Winston. I'll bet he's jumped afew people."I digested that. It was true. Dally had jumped people. He had told us stories aboutmuggings in New York that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. But not all ofus were that bad.Cherry no longer looked sick, only sad. "I'll bet you think the Socs have it made.The rich kids, the West-side Socs. I'll tell you something, Ponyboy, and it may come as asurprise. We have troubles you've never even heard of. You want to know something?"She looked me straight in the eye. "Things are rough all over.""I believe you," I said. "We'd better get back out there with the popcorn or Two-Bit'll think I ran off with his money."We went back and watched the movie through again. Marcia and Two-Bit werehitting it off fine. Both had the same scatterbrained sense of humor. But Cherry andJohnny and I just sat there, looking at the movie and not talking. I quit worrying abouteverything and thought about how nice it was to sit with a girl without having to listen toher swear or to beat her off with a club. I knew Johnny liked it, too. He didn't talk to girlsmuch. Once, while Dallas was in reform school, Sylvia had started hanging on to Johnny The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 32"and sweet talking him and Steve got hold of her and told her if she tried any of her trickswith Johnny he'd personally beat the tar out of her. Then he gave Johnny a lecture ongirls and how a sneaking little broad like Sylvia would get him into a lot of trouble. As aresult, Johnny never spoke to girls much, but whether that was because he was scared ofSteve or because he was shy, I couldn't tell.I got the same lecture from Two-Bit after we'd picked up a couple of girlsdowntown one day. I thought it was funny, because girls are one subject even Darrythinks I use my head about. And it really had been funny, because Two-Bit was halfcrocked when he gave me the lecture, and he told me some stories that about made mewant to crawl under the floor or something. But he had been talking about girls likeSylvia and the girls he and Dally and the rest picked up at drive-ins and downtown; henever said anything about Socy girls. So I figured it was all right to be sitting there withthem. Even if they did have their own troubles. I really couldn't see what Socs wouldhave to sweat about--- good grades, good cars, good girls, madras and Mustangs andCorvairs--- Man, I thought, if I had worries like that I'd consider myself lucky.I know better now. The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 33"Chapter 3AFTER THE MOVIE was over it suddenly came to us that Cherry and Marciadidn't have a way to get home. Two-Bit gallantly offered to walk them home--- the westside of town was only about twenty miles away--- but they wanted to call their parentsand have them come and get them. Two-Bit finally talked them into letting us drive themhome in his car. I think they were still half-scared of us. They were getting over it,though, as we walked to Two-Bit's house to pick up the car. It seemed funny to me thatSocs--- if these girls were any example--- were just like us. They liked the Beatles andthought Elvis Presley was out, and we thought the Beatles were rank and that Elvis wastuff, but that seemed the only difference to me. Of course greasy girls would have acted alot tougher, but there was a basic sameness. I thought maybe it was money that separatedus."No," Cherry said slowly when I said this. "It's not just money. Part of it is, butnot all. You greasers have a different set of values. You're more emotional. We'resophisticated--- cool to the point of not feeling anything. Nothing is real with us. Youknow, sometimes I'll catch myself talking to a girl-friend, and realize I don't mean half ofwhat I'm saying. I don't really think a beer blast on the river bottom is super-cool, but I'llrave about one to a girl-friend just to be saying something." She smiled at me. "I nevertold anyone that. I think you're the first person I've ever really gotten through to."She was coming through to me all right, probably because I was a greaser, andyounger; she didn't have to keep her guard up with me."Rat race is a perfect name for it," she said. "We're always going and going andgoing, and never asking where. Did you ever hear of having more than you wanted? Sothat you couldn't want anything else and then started looking for something else to want?It seems like we're always searching for something to satisfy us, and never finding it.Maybe if we could lose our cool. we could." The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 34"That was the truth. Socs were always behind a wall of aloofness, careful not to lettheir real selves show through. I had seen a social-club rumble once. The Socs evenfought coldly and practically and impersonally."That's why we're separated," I said. "It's not money, it's feeling--- you don't feelanything and we feel too violently.""And"--- she was trying to hide a smile--- "that's probably why we take turnsgetting our names in the paper."Two-Bit and Marcia weren't even listening to us. They were engaged in somewild conversation that made no sense to anyone but themselves.I have quite a rep for being quiet, almost as quiet as Johnny. Two-Bit always saidhe wondered why Johnny and I were such good buddies. "You must make such interestin'conversation," he'd say, cocking one eyebrow, "you keepin' your mouth shut and Johnnynot sayin' anything." But Johnny and I understood each other without saying anything.Nobody but Soda could really get me talking. Till I met Cherry Valance.I don't know why I could talk to her; maybe for the same reason she could talk tome. The first thing I knew I was telling her about Mickey Mouse, Soda's horse. I hadnever told anyone about Soda's horse. It was personal.Soda had this buckskin horse, only it wasn't his. It belonged to a guy who kept itat the stables where Soda used to work. Mickey Mouse was Soda's horse, though. Thefirst day Soda saw him he said, "There's my horse," and I never doubtedit. I was about tenthen. Sodapop is horsecrazy. I mean it. He's always hanging around stables and rodeos,hopping on a horse every time he gets a chance. When I was ten I thought that MickeyMouse and Soda looked alike and were alike. Mickey Mouse was a dark-gold buckskin,sassy and ornery, not much more than a colt. He'd come when Soda called him. Hewouldn't come for anyone else. That horse loved Soda. He'd stand there and chew onSoda's sleeve or collar. Gosh, but Sodapop was crazy about that horse. He went down tosee him every day. Mickey Mouse was a mean horse: He kicked other horses and was The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 35"always getting into trouble. "I've got me a ornery pony," Soda'd tell him, rubbing hisneck. "How come you're so mean, Mickey Mouse?" Mickey Mouse would just chew onhis sleeve and sometimes nip him. But not hard. He may have belonged to another guy,but he was Soda's horse."Does Soda still have him?" Cherry asked."He got sold," I said. "They came and got him one day and took him off. He was areal valuable horse. Pure quarter."She didn't say anything else and I was glad. I couldn't tell her that Soda hadbawled all night long after they came and got Mickey Mouse. I had cried, too, if you wantto know the truth, because Soda never really wanted anything except a horse, and he'dlost his. Soda had been twelve then, going-on-thirteen. He never let on to Mom and Dadhow he felt, though, because we never had enough money and usually we had a hard timemaking ends meet. When you're thirteen in our neighborhood you know the score. I keptsaving my money for a year, thinking that someday I could buy Mickey Mouse back forSoda. You're not so smart at ten."You read a lot, don't you, Ponyboy?" Cherry asked.I was startled. "Yeah. Why?"She kind of shrugged. "I could just tell. I'll bet you watch sunsets, too." She wasquiet for a minute after I nodded. "I used to watch them, too, before I got so busy..."I pictured that, or tried to. Maybe Cherry stood still and watched the sun set whileshe was supposed to be taking the garbage out. Stood there and watched and forgoteverything else until her big brother screamed at her to hurry up. I shook my head. Itseemed funny to me that the sunset she saw from her patio and, the one I saw from theback steps was the same one. Maybe the two different worlds we lived in weren't sodifferent. We saw the same sunset.Marcia suddenly gasped. "Cherry, look what's coming." The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 36"We all looked and saw a blue Mustang coming down the street. Johnny made asmall noise in his throat and when I looked at him he was white.Marcia was shifting nervously. "What are we going to do?"Cherry bit a fingernail. "Stand here," she said. "There isn't much else we can do.""Who is it?" Two-Bit asked. "The F.B.I.?""No," Cherry said bleakly, "it's Randy and Bob.""And," Two-Bit added grimly, "a few other of the socially elite checkered-shirtset""Your boyfriends?" Johnny's voice was steady, but standing as close to him as Iwas, I could see he was trembling. I wondered why--- Johnny was a nervous wreck, buthe never was that jumpy.Cherry started walking down the street. "Maybe they won't see us. Act normal.""Who's acting?" Two-Bit grinned. "I'm a natural normal.""Wish it was the other way around," I muttered, and Two-Bit said, "Don't getmouthy, Ponyboy"The Mustang passed us slowly and went right on by. Marcia sighed in relief. 'Thatwas close."Cherry turned to me. "Tell me about your oldest brother. You don't talk muchabout him."I tried to think of something to say about Darry, and shrugged. "What's to talkabout? He's big and handsome and likes to play football." The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 37""I mean, what's he like? I feel like I know Soda from the way you talk about him;tell me about Darry." And when I was silent she urged me on. "Is he wild and recklesslike Soda? Dreamy, like you?" My face got hot as I bit my lip. Darry... what was Darrylike? "He's..." I started to say he was a good ol' guy but I couldn't. I burst out bitterly:"He's not like Sodapop at all and he sure ain't like me. He's hard as a rock and about ashuman. He's got eyes exactly like frozen ice. He thinks I'm a pain in the neck. He likesSoda--- everybody likes Soda--- but he can't stand me. I bet he wishes he could stick mein a home somewhere, and he'd do it, too, if Soda'd let him."Two-Bit and Johnny were staring at me now. "No..." Two-Bit said, dumfounded."No, Ponyboy, that ain't right... you got it wrong...""Gee," Johnny said softly, "I thought you and Darry and Soda got along realwell...""Well, we don't," I snapped, feeling silly. I knew my ears were red by the waythey were burning, and I was thankful for the darkness. I felt stupid. Compared toJohnny's home, mine was heaven. At least Darry didn't get drunk and beat me up or runme out of the house, and I had Sodapop to talk things over with. That made me mad, Imean making a fool of myself in front of everyone. "An' you can shut your trap, JohnnyCade, 'cause we all know you ain't wanted at home, either. And you can't blame them."Johnny's eyes went round and he winced as though I'd belted him. Two-Bitslapped me a good one across the side of the head, and hard."Shut your mouth, kid. If you wasn't Soda's kid brother I'd beat the tar out of you.You know better than to talk to Johnny like that." He put his hand on Johnny's shoulder."He didn't mean it, Johnny.""I'm sorry," I said miserably. Johnny was my buddy. "I was just mad.""It's the truth," Johnny said with a bleak grin. "I don't care." The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 38""Shut up talkin' like that," Two-Bit said fiercely, messing up Johnny's hair. "Wecouldn't get along without you, so you can just shut up!""It ain't fair!" I cried passionately. "It ain't fair that we have all the rough breaks!"I didn't know exactly what I meant, but I was thinking about Johnny's father being adrunk and his mother a selfish slob, and Two-Bit's mother being a barmaid to supporthim and his kid sister after their father ran out on them, and Dally--- wild, cunning Dally--- turning into a hoodlum because he'd die if he didn't, and Steve--- his hatred for hisfather coming out in his soft, bitter voice and the violence of his temper. Sodapop... adropout so he could get a job and keep me in school, and Darry, getting old before histime trying to run a family and hold on to two jobs and never having any fun--- while theSocs had so much spare time and money that they jumped us and each other for kicks,had beer blasts and river-bottom parties because they didn't know what else to do. Thingswere rough all over, all right. All over the East Side. It just didn't seem right to me."I know," Two-Bit said with a good-natured grin, "the chips are always downwhen it's our turn, but that's the way things are. Like it or lump it."Cherry and Marcia didn't say anything. I guess they didn't know what to say. Wehad forgotten they were there. Then the blue Mustang was coming down the street again,more slowly."Well," Cherry said resignedly, "they've spotted us."The Mustang came to a halt beside us, and the two boys in the front seat got out.They were Socs all right. One had on a white shirt and a madras ski jacket, and the othera light yellow shirt and a wine-colored sweater. I looked at their clothes and realized forthe first time that evening that all I had was a pair of jeans and Soda's old navy sweatshirt with the sleeves cut short. I swallowed. Two-Bit started to tuck in his shirttail, butstopped himself in time; he just flipped up the collar of his black leather jacket and lit acigarette. The Socs didn't even seem to see us. The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 39""Cherry, Marcia, listen to us..." the handsome black-haired Soc with the darksweater began.Johnny was breathing heavily and I noticed he was staring at the Soc's hand. Hewas wearing three heavy rings. I looked quickly at Johnny, an idea dawning on me. Iremembered that it was a blue Mustang that had pulled up beside the vacant lot and thatJohnny's face had been cut up by someone wearing rings...The Soc's voice broke into my thoughts: "...just because we got a little drunk lasttime..."Cherry looked mad. "A little? You call reeling and passing out in the streets 'alittle'? Bob, I told you, I'm never going out with you while you're drinking, and I mean it.Too many things could happen while you're drunk. It's me or the booze."The other Soc, a tall guy with a semi-Beatle haircut, turned to Marcia. "Baby, youknow we don't get drunk very often..." When she only gave him a cold stare he got angry."And even if you are mad at us, that's no reason to go walking the streets with thesebums."Two-Bit took a long drag on his cigarette, Johnny slouched and hooked histhumbs in his pockets, and I stiffened. We can look meaner than anything when we wantto--- looking tough comes in handy. Two-Bit put his elbow on Johnny's shoulder. "Whoyou callin' bums?""Listen, greasers, we got four more of us in the back seat...""Then pity the back seat," Two-Bit said to the sky."If you're looking for a fight..."Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow, but it only made him look more cool. "You mean ifI'm looking for a good jumping, you outnumber us, so you'll give it to us? Well..." He The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 40"snatched up an empty bottle, busted off the end, and gave it to me, then reached in hisback pocket and flipped out his switchblade. "Try it, pal.""No!" Cherry cried. "Stop it!" She looked at Bob. "We'll ride home with you. Justwait a minute.""Why?" Two-Bit demanded. "We ain't scared of them."Cherry shuddered. "I can't stand fights... I can't stand them..."I pulled her to one side. "I couldn't use this," I said, dropping the pop bottle. "Icouldn't ever cut anyone...." I had to tell her that, because I'd seen her eyes when Two-Bitflicked out his switch."I know," she said quietly, "but we'd better go with them. Ponyboy... I mean... if Isee you in the hall at school or someplace and don't say hi, well, it's not personal oranything, but...""I know," I said."We couldn't let our parents see us with you all. You're a nice boy andeverything...""It's okay," I said, wishing I was dead and buried somewhere. Or at least that Ihad on a decent shirt. "We aren't in the same class. Just don't forget that some of us watchthe sunset too."She looked at me quickly. "I could fall in love with Dallas Winston," she said. "Ihope I never see him again, or I will."She left me standing there with my mouth dropped open, and the blue Mustangvroomed off. The$Outsiders,"S.E."Hinton" 41"We walked on home, mostly in silence. I wanted to ask Johnny if those were thesame Socs that had beaten him up, but I didn't mention it. Johnny never talked about itand we never said anything."Well, those were two good-lookin' girls if I ever saw any." Two-Bit yawned aswe sat down on the curb at the vacant lot. He took a piece of paper out,of his pocket andtore it up."What was that?""Marcia's number. Probably a phony one, too. I must have been outa my mind toask for it. I think I'm a little soused."So he had been drinking. Two-Bit was smart. He knew the score. "Y'all goin'home?" he asked."Not right now," I said. I wanted to have another smoke and to watch the stars. Ihad to be in by twelve, but I thought I had plenty of time."I don't know why I handed you that busted bottle," Two-Bit said, getting to hisfeet. "You'd never use it.""Maybe I would have," I said. "Where you headed?""Gonna go play a little snooker and hunt up a poker game. Maybe get rip-roarin'drunk. I dunno. See y'all tomorrow."Johnny and I stretched out on our backs and looked at the stars. I was freezing---it was a cold night and all I had was that sweat shirt, but I could watch stars in sub-zeroweather. I saw Johnny's cigarette glowing in the dark and wondered vaguely what it waslike inside a burning ember..."It was because we're greasers," Johnny said, and I knew he was talking aboutCherry. "We could have hurt her reputation."