PICTURE: Ponygirl

When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the quietness of the library, I only had two things occupying my thoughts: Paul Newman and how to get home without scuffing my shoes. They were brand new white converse I had been saving to buy for about three months to at least to fit in stylishly with the other girls in my town. The greasy ones, I mean. I could never compete with the classy rich girls, those snobby Socs. No way. None of my kind could ever meet the looks of a Soc. They were too high-class to ever be considered greasy.

Greasy girls weren't usually pleasing to most-despite hoods and all who enjoy "picking up" women time to time, decent boys wouldn't dare to mess around with greaser girls. We've got a reputation for being tough, sassy, loud girls who wear too much makeup and swear too much. But then there's me, maybe my sister and my best friend, but mostly regarding to me. I lack almost everything in that description.

I have straight, auburn hair that shapes my relatively small face and falls an inch past my shoulders, but no more. I've tried keeping it long-most Soc and greaser girls have long hair-but all it did was become frizzy and hard to reach when brushing. So I've just kept it medium-lengthed. Besides, I look better with short hair anyway. That way it also stays lightly colored where it brings out my greenish-gray eyes, at least that's what my friends say. I wish they were more green, though. Gray eyes are dull and definitely not pleasing to my eye in particular. I think green, sparkling eyes would enhance my complexion better. But I guess I've got to be content with what I have. And that pretty much goes with how to feel about my body, too. I'm a little small to be fourteen, but my sisters say I'll be taller by the time I'm out of high school. I'm not all that curvy, either, just pretty skinny and slim.

I'm just Tulsa's unaverage greaser.

Middle-class kids are rare here in this particular town of Oklahoma. Just Socs and greasers. Socs is the abbreviation for Socials, the jet set, the rich kids living on the West-side of town. It's like the term "greaser" as used for boys and girls on the East-side. We're poorer than the Socs, and I think we're wilder, too. Not like the Socs, who jump greasers (which include harassing and assaulting greasy girls) and wreck houses and throw beer blasts for kicks, and get editorials in the paper for being a public disgrace the first day and an asset to society the next. They get away with everything. Greasers are almost like hoods; they steal things, drive old souped-up cars, hold up gas stations, and have a gang fight once in a while. It's so rough all over in this town that according to my oldest sister, I shouldn't be walking around alone like I was right now. I don't really listen to her anyway since all I do is daydream about stuff that wouldn't exactly happen, but today I happened to be more careful than usual. Probably because I didn't want to step in mud with my new converse.

I kept my head down in case a car full of Socs were around. I wasn't in the mood to be jumped or anything. I held my new book to my chest and minded my own business as I walked along home, trying my best to avoid any incoming Socs.

I was doing it wrong.

They must have spotted me somehow. I quickened my pace; only two blocks and a half until I would reach, hopefully safely, to my house. But the red Mustang kept following me. As it was easing closer to the curb, it happened to speed in beside of me where it stopped and four boys hopped out.

I got really scared then. They were taller than me and older by a few years. My feet stopped moving so I stood there like a bump on a log as the Socs circled around me silently-slight chuckles here and there-smiling. I held my book closer to me and looked up where I met a blonde's face. "Hey, grease," he said in an over-friendly voice. "What you got there?"

Hands clamming around my book and heart pounding, I gulped unsure of what to do. The boys stood around me waiting for an answer, when all I did was hesitantly open my mouth to say something.

I guess they were impatient because the blonde ripped the book out of my hands. "Hey!" I yelped thrusting my arms out to snatch it back, but he raised his long arm so I was left hopping trying to reach it. The Socs cackled and the blonde tossed it to one and that one tossed it over my head to another, teasing me. "Stop it! Give it to me!"

"No," the brunette laughed cockily, and he shoved me by the shoulders into his friend who yanked at my skirt and I yelped. His friend pushed me back to the blonde and I was being shoved around and teased and my clothing was being yanked and I did not like it.

"Give me my book!" I shrieked.

"You want your precious book, greasy girl?" the blonde scoffed. Then I heard my book flopping into the road, and the rest of the guys snickered and came closer. They even made harassing comments which didn't make me feel so hot. The blonde grabbed me a little too roughly by the collar and I hit the fence on the right side of the sidewalk. My mouth fell and the Socs chuckled and sexually harassed me as the blonde made moves that I wish not to describe. I trembled with fear-if I made a noise for help, I didn't want to know what they'd do to me.

Suddenly, the Soc yanked me harder towards him, and it was a sure way for he to be looking down my chest. And that wasn't acceptable for me being a girl. He eyed downwards and commented not so sweetly and dangerously as before. "You roll around in trash to get that?"

His friends laughed and made more body-degrading comments which made me feel awfully embarrassed. This time, I tried breaking free. "Get your hands off me, Soc! Move!"

Then there were shouts and the pondering of quick feet. There was a long, high-pitched scream that could have burst everyone's ears but instead, an angry Tiny-Bit jumped on a Soc and trampled him face-first on the sidewalk. The Soc's grip on me loosened in surprisement. Things were moving fast and throughout all the screaming and roughness, I couldn't tell what was going on. A rough hand pulled me away from the scene. It was Dana.

"Ponygirl! They didn't do anything to you, right?!"

"I-I'm fine," I responded, taking my hand away and looking back. "But-"

Dana threw her hands up in the air. "What were you even doing? You were supposed be home from school an hour ago!"

I tried not to shrug. "Lollipop knows how I go to the library every day after school, I thought-"

"That's all you do, Ponygirl," sighed Dana, exhausted and annoyed. "Books and books and oh, books! If anything, you should be reading about street smarts-get this stuff in your head, Pony. You could've at least carried a blade or a nail file or something!"

"And give them an excuse to do something worse?" Lollipop butted in. The Socs must have left; the rest of our group came loping back from afar.

"If I wanted your input, I would've asked for it," Dana said to Lollipop.

Dana is my oldest sister, but she acts like my mother. And not the good way; Dana might have inherited Mom's looks, but she acts the opposite. She's always hollering at me and treating me like I am six instead of fourteen. Dana's pretty much full of critique towards me and my teenage nonsense and often judges me for always having my nose in a book and my eyes "brainwashed" from movies, as she puts it. But that's just the way I enjoy myself, and Dana's so serious and stubborn that she never knows how to have fun. At least not anymore, not since Mom and Dad died. Dana's got a lot of responsibilities and sometimes I felt sorry for her. Instead of coping with our family and trying to keep me in school, she could have been making something big of herself at college. Dana could have been a model-she was that gorgeous. Dana was tall, slim, and had long legs. Thick, dark-brown hair fell a little past her shoulders and her blue-green eyes glistened like pale ice. She was only twenty but looked about thirty and had the mindset of a forty-year-old woman. Dana was so busy that she rarely even grinned, laughed, nothing. Despite how pretty Dana already was, she would be much prettier if she smiled more.

Lollipop took a breath and turned to me. "You okay, Ponygirl?"

"Yeah," I said pushing hair behind my ear, "I'm fine."

"They didn't do anything too bad, did they?" Lollipop asked with concern. "They didn't touch you or anything?"

I pursed my lips, embarrassed, and shook my head.

Lollipop is my second-oldest sister and the one I liked better, but I would never admit it. But there was no way you couldn't like Lollipop. She was the prettiest girl I knew. Not like Dana, though-Lolli was Hollywood kind of pretty, Marilyn Monroe pretty, the kind people would drool over and wish to be her. She's not as tall as Dana, and a little slimmer, but her body is pretty much flawless as if it were blessed by the gods. Lollipop's got dark-gold hair-long and silky and wavy-which in the summer the sun bleached to golden-blonde. It shaped her finely-drawn and sensitive face. Lolli had Dad's dark-brown eyes, but she was one of a kind. Hers were dancing that shined with liveliness and sympathy. Lollipop was so beautiful she rarely, if ever, needed to wear makeup. In our neighborhood it's rare to find a girl who doesn't wear makeup-especially at sixteen-and-a-half years of age, if you want to be exact-because most greasy girls cake themselves with it. Lollipop didn't own a single box-she doesn't need it, anyway. Lollipop gets beautiful more and more each day from just plain smiling all the time. She was happy and understood everyone.

Lolli looked at me again and examined my face. "Oh, you got flushed up a little, huh, Ponygirl?"

I blushed more and rubbed my cheek. "I'm okay, Lolli. Just a little spooked, that's all."

She sighed, "I can see you tremblin', Pony."

"You can?"

"Look!" Lolli pulled out her pocket mirror and I saw my reflection. "Are you sure they didn't make any moves on you or something?"

I sucked in my cheeks, trying to hide that I wanted to cry. "Yeah."

"This is why you shouldn't be on the streets long," Stephanie snickered, crossing her arms. "I swear, the next time you get yourself into an event with the Socs"-she pointed at me, annoyed-"I'm not getting involved. I almost broke a nail!"

Stephanie Randle was seventeen, tall and slender, with thick hair-sprayed brown hair that fell in long, complicated locks. She had dark-brown eyes that usually, if not most of the time, slanted down at me. She was self-confident, smart, and Lolli's best friend since grade school. I only liked her because of that, but Steph was pleasing to others in town for having the speciality of designing hair. In fact, Steph knew hair upside-down and backwards, and could style and twist and twirl anyone's hair, no matter the type, into something truly appealing. She and Lolli worked at the same hair salon-Steph part-time and Lolli full-time-and their salon got the most customers than any other in town. Whether that was because Stephanie was so good with hair or because Lolli attracted boys like honey does flies, I couldn't tell you. I liked Steph only because she was Lollipop's best friend. She didn't like me, though. She thought I was a tagalong and a kid, especially because Lolli always took me with them when they went places, if they weren't being taken by boys. And that bugged Stephanie. At first I thought Steph only wanted to hang out with Lolli (because you know how girls can get), but after a while, it seemed and was true that Stephanie just didn't want me around. It wasn't my fault, though; Lollipop always asked me, I didn't ask her. After all, I'm Lolli's kid sister; didn't sisters always pass time together? Then again, thinking about Dana, not all of them do. Sometimes I thought Stephanie just didn't know about the quality of having a sister. She was an only-child.

I wanted to roll my eyes. "Okay."

"Whooey!" Tiny-Bit entered the conversation. "Man, that was the most action I've gotten all this week. I pretty much enjoyed myself out there"-Tiny-Bit flipped back her hair-"what about y'all?"

Lollipop grinned. "Of course you did, Tiny. That's like your hobby."

Tiny-Bit giggled, "Yup."

Tiny-Bit Mathews was the brightness of our bunch. She was tall and gorgeous, and had long, reddish golden-brown hair that twisted in endless curls, and for which she was proud of. She had blue-gray eyes and a pretty smile. Honestly, Tiny-Bit had that one-million-dollar grin; she was always laughing and joking around and playing fun. Tiny-Bit could lighten the spirits of everyone by doing so. She couldn't stop making funny remarks and using her cunning charm to save her life. You couldn't calm down that girl-she naturally had a lot of energy. Tiny-Bit was wild and daring and did almost everything boys did. Tiny-Bit was famous for shoplifting and her jewel-handled switchblade (they were fake jewels and she ripped off the blade from some guy). More importantly, she liked to swipe things from stores for the kick of it. That's why we called her Tiny-Bit. She owned a tiny bit of everything from each store here in Tulsa without having to pay a cent. The nickname stuck like glue that even Tiny-Bit forgot her real name was Kiara. She was eighteen-and-a-half and still a junior in high school and she never learned anything. She just went for kicks and to be with friends she had made in the lower classes. I liked her real well because she stayed true to herself and kept us laughing at ourselves as well as other things. She reminded me of Lucille Ball-maybe it was the wittiness.

Tiny-Bit pulled out what she happened to save during the former madness. "Here's your book, Pony."

I took the book and thanked her. Then Dakota appeared beside Tiny-Bit; she was in the process of catching her breath as she spoke. "Damn, they had some nerve. One of 'em kicked dirt on me, that little . . ." She brushed off her blouse, muttering some adjectives at the Socs.

If I had to pick the real character of our group, it would be the divine devil herself-Dakota Winston. She was a nightmare dressed like a daydream, practically. Her hair was almost white it was so blonde, falling in teased waves that curled a little past her shoulders. She had blazing, icy-blue eyes, cold of a hatred for the whole world. Dakota had spent the first years of her life on the wild side of New York and had even been locked in juvy at the age of ten. She grew up adapting to the roughness and developed a hard boundary around herself. Dakota was tougher than the rest of us-fiercer, sneakier, sassier. Dakota had a sly sweetness to her too, so she always got her way and what she wanted. Dakota had quite a bad reputation (and a temper) and could give anyone a run for their money. Dakota's been penalized down at the police station many times but she'd never change her ways. She fought with girls, blackmailed boys, slept around, got drunk, lied, cheated, stole, snuck around, broke in places, and got caught by the cops for all of the above. She fought and acted just like a hood and earned being known as the toughest girl in town, though she still managed to have a somewhat girly side to her. Dakota was also the girl that boys cheated with, even though she did have a boyfriend. Nevertheless, she was as wild as the girls in the downtown outfits, like Tammy Shepard's group.

In New York, she blew off steam in group fights, but here, organized groups are rarities. They're just bunches of friends who stick together, and that goes for both girls and boys. The warfare is between the social classes. I didn't like her, but she was smart and knew how to take care of herself and you had to respect her.

Last and least was Juliette Cade. If you can picture a little brown puppy that has been bullied too many times and is lost in a crowd of strangers, you'll have Juliette. She's the youngest, next to me, smaller than the rest, with a petite frame. She was so quiet I didn't even realize she was beside me. Juliette had big dark eyes in a tanned face; her hair was jet-black and heavily straightened with bangs swept to the side [A/N: the tumblr fringe look], but it was so long that it fell to the same length as the rest of her hair. She had an anxious look in her eyes, was always shy and reserved and kept quiet most of the time. She wasn't that outgoing, and she got nervous around people, particularly boys. And the assault that she got from the Socs worsened matters where Juliette had really trapped herself in a shell. She was our group's pet, everyone's kid sister. We watched out for her ever since then. Her father was always beating her up, and her mother ignored her. Juliette's mother rarely came home, but when she did, you could hear her yelling at Juliette clear down at our house. I think Juliette hated that worse than getting abused by her father. She would have run away a million times if we hadn't been there. If it hadn't been for the group, Juliette would never have known what love and affection are.

Dana ordered us to start walking along home. Thankfully I had gotten my book back, or else I wouldn't be going anywhere.

"The girl's okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay now," I responded awkwardly. I changed the subject. "I didn't know you were out of the cooler yet, Dakota."

"Well, they couldn't keep me hostage for long. A girl's gotta get her space. I had good behavior too, so they let me go," Dakota said proudly.

We were a few blocks from my house when Tiny-Bit brought up: "Nice-lookin' book you got there, Pony."

"Really?" I asked, turning over the cover so she could see. "You're interested in To Kill a Mockingbird?"

"Nah, I don't read," Tiny-Bit replied. "Sounds tuff though."

Tough and tuff are two different words. Tough is the same as rough; tuff means cool, like a tuff-looking Corvair or a tuff sense of style. In our town both are compliments, but their meaning varies a little between males and females.

Steph flicked her tsk's at me. "Sounds dangerous. And if you were lookin' for somethin' dangerous, than you should've just kept yourself walking all by your lonesome out on the streets."

I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Stephanie to bring something up like that.

I muttered, "Well, isn't that just a good idea. I didn't think of that one."

"You don't ever think," Dana interrupted, "Not at home or at school or anywhere where it counts. You must think at school, with all those good grades you bring home. And you've always got your nose in a book-"

"At least I don't always have my nose in people's business," I told her. It came out a little too harshly than I had expected.

Dana stopped in her walking, turned to me, and crossed her arms with an annoyed look. "But do you ever use your head for common sense?"

I just looked away, kind of embarrassed that none of the group was talking, and pursed my lips angrily. "You wouldn't know, Dana, now would you?" I grumbled, more to myself, and just kept walking until I entered our front lawn.

Lolli said, "Just leave my kid sister alone, Dana. It isn't her fault that she likes reading books and it isn't her fault that the Socs like to mess with us."

Lollipop always sticks up for me. Following that, Dana always lays off me when Lolli tells her too. Well, most of the time-Dana often kept her grudges.

"Next time get one of us to go with you, Pony," Tiny-Bit suggested. "Any of us will."

Dakota cleared her throat. "Speaking of going out, I was planning on hitting it up at the Nightly Double tomorrow night. Anybody wanna come and hunt some boys?"

Steph shook her head. "Me and Lolli are being picked up by Eddie and Scott for the game."

She didn't need to look at me the way he did right then. I wasn't going to ask if I could come. I'd never tell Lolli, because she really likes Steph a lot, but sometimes I can't stand Stephanie Randle. I'm serious. Sometimes I hate her.

Dana sighed, just like I knew she would. She never had time to do anything anymore. "I'm working tomorrow night."

Dakota looked at the rest of us. "How about y'all? Tiny-Bit? Juliepie, you and Pony wanna come?"

"Me and Juliette'll come," I said. I knew Juliette wouldn't open her mouth unless she was forced to, but she nodded in agreement. "Okay, Dana?"

"I guess, since it ain't a school night," Dana replied. She was good about letting me go places on the weekends, but on school nights I could hardly leave the house.

"I was planning on getting tipsy tomorrow night," Tiny-Bit said with a giggle. "If I don't, I'll walk over and join you girls."

Steph was looking at Dakota's hand. Her ring, which belonged to a boyfriend of hers, was yet again missing on her finger. "You're taking a break from Sawyer again?"

Dakota shrugged. "Yeah, but this time it's for good. That hoodlum was two-timin' me again while I was in trouble with the cops."

I thought of Sawyer and Eddie and Scott and Tiny-Bit's many hookups. They were the only kind of boys that would look at us respectively, I thought. Tough, loud boys who put too much grease in their hair and smoked and swore too much. I liked Lolli's boy Scott just fine, though. His hair was natural blonde and his voice was deep, like his ocean-blue eyes. He grew up in a rough household and was our kind-greaser-but he was a real nice boy. Still, lots of times I wondered what other boys were like. The boys who were bright-eyed and had their madras in all different colors and acted as if they'd like to bully us if given a chance. Some were afraid of us, and remembering Dakota Winston, I didn't blame them. But most looked at us like we were trash who seeked attention. They were Soc boys, after all. They came by in their Mustangs and Corvairs and yelled "Grease!" and other nasty things at us that guys shouldn't say to women. They never left us alone. I wondered about them. The boys, I mean . . . Did they cry when their girls were assaulted, like Eddie did when Steph got beat, or did they run out on them the way Sawyer did Dakota? But maybe their girls didn't get assaulted or harassed or pushed around on the streets.

I was still thinking about it while I was doing my homework that night. I had to read Great Expectations for English, and that girl Piper, she reminded me of us-the way she felt marked lousy because she wasn't "ladylike" or anything, and the way that boy kept looking down on her. That happened to me once. One time in biology I had to dissect a worm, and the razor wouldn't cut, so I used my backup switchblade. The minute I flicked it out-I forgot what I was doing or I would never have done it-this boy right beside me kind of gasped, and laughed, "So it's true. Greasy girl is a hood." That didn't make me feel so hot. I got badly uncomfortable and embarrassed because there were a lot of Socs in that class-I get put into A classes because I'm supposed to be smart-and most of them thought it was pretty funny. I didn't, though, and they started making jokes about it later on. He was a cute boy, though. He looked really good in blue.

We deserve a lot of our trouble, I thought. Dakota deserves everything she gets, and should get worse, if you want the truth. Dakota breaks laws that she should be in jail for, but since she's a woman the police let her off easy, even though she has a mile-long record and counting. And Tiny-Bit-she doesn't really want or need half the things she swipes from stores. She just thinks it's fun to swipe everything that isn't nailed down. I can understand why Lollipop and Stephanie go to late night parties and clubs so much, though-both of them have too much energy, too much feeling, with no way to blow it off.

"Ice it more, Lolli," I heard Dana mumbling, "You're gonna put me to sleep once I get some relief."

I looked through the door. Lollipop was putting ice on Dana's arm. Dana is always pulling muscles; she's a waitress at a busy restaurant, and she's always trying to carry two towers of plates and glasses back and forth from the kitchen and the dinery. I knew Lolli would put her to sleep, because Lolli can put about anyone out when she sets her head to it. She thought Dana worked too hard anyway. I did, too.

Dana didn't deserve to work like an old woman when she was only twenty. She had been a real popular girl in school; she was head of the gymnastics team and she had been voted for Prom Queen. But we just didn't have the money for her to go to college, even with the athletic scholarship she won. And now she didn't have time between jobs to even think about college. So she never went anywhere and never did anything anymore, except exercise at the gym and go to cafés with some old friends of hers sometimes.

By the time I had to go to bed, some Socs were riding around our streets-home of greasers-shouting goodnight insults. We had just as much right to use the streets as the Socs did, and we had no intention of ever hurting them.

While closing the curtains to avoid the glow of the headlights, I asked, "Why do the Socs hate us so much? We leave them alone."

Lollipop, who had previously jumped into bed at this time, yelled sleepily for me to turn off the light and get to bed. I did.

Lying beside Lolli, staring at the wall, I kept remembering the faces of the Socs as they surrounded me, that red madras shirt the blond was wearing, and I could still hear a thick voice: "You roll around in trash to get that?" I shivered.

"You cold, Ponygirl?"

"A little," I lied.

Lolli lifted the covers a little bit higher and threw one arm across my back. She mumbled something drowsily. "Listen, kiddie, when Dana hollers at you . . . she doesn't mean anything. She's just got more worries than somebody her age ought to. Don't take her serious . . . you dig, Pony? Don't let her bug you. She's really proud of you 'cause you're so intelligent. It's just because you're the baby-I mean, she loves you a lot. Savvy?"

"Sure," I said, trying for Lolli's sake to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"Lolli?"

"Yeah?"

"How come you dropped out?" I never have gotten over that. I could hardly stand it when she left school.

Lollipop sighed. "Because I'm dumb. The only things I was passing anyway were fashion design and gym."

"You're not dumb."

"Yeah, I am. I wasn't good enough to continue through it . . . Hey, if we shut up about this, I'll tell you something. Don't tell Dana, though."

I nuzzled my head into the pillow, relaxing. "Okay."

"One day . . . someday . . . I think I'm gonna marry Scott."

I opened my eyes a little. "Really?"

"Yeah," Lolli said, hope in her voice, "after he turns nineteen and we get better jobs and everything. I might wait 'til you get out of school, though. So I can still help Dana with the bills and stuff."

I smiled sleepily. Surely a girl like Lolli would hope of marrying her teenage love. "Tuff enough. Wait until I get out of school, though, so you can keep Dana off my back."

"Aw, don't be like that, Pony. I told you she doesn't mean the things she says . . ."

"Are you in love with Scott? What's it like?"

"Hhhmmm." She sighed happily. "It's real wonderful."

In a moment her breathing was light and regular. I turned my head to look at him and in the moonlight she looked like some Greek goddess came to Earth. I wondered how she could stand being so pretty. Then I sighed. I didn't quite get when she meant about Dana. Dana thought I was just another mouth to feed and somebody to holler at. Dana love me? I thought of those hard, pale eyes. Lolli was wrong for once, I thought. Dana doesn't love anyone or anything, except maybe Lolli. I didn't hardly think of her as being human. I don't care, I lied to myself, I don't care about her either. Lolli's enough, and I'd have her until I got out of school. I don't care about Dana. But I was still lying and I knew it. I lie to myself all the time. But I never believe me.

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I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter! I had a lot of fun writing it! Also, how do you like the gender-bent names and situations? I tried my best to twist it up into female perspectives and such. Comment below what you think! c:

Thanks for reading and stay gold!

~Amanda