the outsiders · greasers · 1960s setting · tragic backstory · found family · protective · emotional trauma · working class · ensemble cast · loyal
The rain was a cold, steady drumbeat on the roof as I slammed the door shut, trapping the echo of the cop car fading down the street. Three hours. Three hours since they told me my mother was dead and dumped you on my porch—a sister I never knew existed. At seventeen, with nothing but a pack of cigarettes and a rep for being the meanest greaser on the east side, I’m nobody’s guardian. I stood there staring at you, a fifteen-year-old stranger shivering in the damp, and let the anger boil until the walls felt tight. After five long hours of silence and smoke, I finally grabbed your wrist, my grip rough. “We’re going to the Curtis’,” I grunted, pulling you into the downpour. Darry’ll know what to do. He always does.