"Ha ha. You're so funny," Dally said rolling his eyes, "Don't listen to him," He said turning to me.

I just chuckled and shook my head.

"So you're new around here, right?" Dally asked once the movie was over.

Soda had invited Shelby and I back to his house, so that's where we were going. Everyone was walking ahead of us, talking and laughing loudly. Dally and I trailed behind.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," I replied.

"So what brings you to Tulsa? I mean I love it and all, but there's really nothing to do here,"

I grimaced, remembered that horrible night, "It's a long story. I actually never had plans to come here. Shelby and I were originally going to go to Santa Fe, but I had to leave Cincinnati fast and this was the only option at the time," I explained.

"Santa Fe, huh? Why there?" Dally asked.

"Oh man," I chuckled softly, "Why not there? Picture this, a city made out of clay," I started.

Dally nodded, listening intently.

"It's always warm there. You'll never have to face a cold day again. And get this, they don't care who you are. It doesn't matter if you're poor or rich, greaser or Soc. To them, you're family," I said.

"So you're not staying in Tulsa?" Dally asked.

"God no. I'm getting out of here as soon as I can. Like I said before, I had to leave Cincinnati as fast as possible," I said.

"Oh," Dally replied, looking slightly hurt, but he quickly shook it off. "If you don't mind me asking, why'd you have to leave?"

"I guess right now it's just easier to show you," I said.

I lifted up my shirt to reveal a large scar that I had. It was on my right side and ran from the middle of my rib cage down to the start of my hip. It was still a deep shade of purple, since it wasn't fully scarred over yet.

"This is why I left," I said, looking Dally in the eyes.

He looked shocked, a mixture of anger and sympathy painted on his face, "Did someone do that to you?" He questioned softly.

I nodded, avoiding eye contact. I quickly put my shirt down and smoothed it over.

"But that's in the past," I said trying to fake a smile.

Dally walked closer to me. I backed up slightly, wary of what he might do next.

"Look, Grace," He started, putting his hand on my cheek. His hand was comforting and warm.

I closed my eyes, almost like I was in pain. And truth be told, I was. It had been so long since someone other than Shelby, had shown me any ounce of kindness.

"As cheesy as it may sound, I can tell there's this connection between us. I'll be there for you," Dally said.

"We've only just met,"

"Sometimes that's all it takes,"

I looked up at him, tears welling in my eyes. 

"You don't want me, Dally," I said, backing away from him.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because. I'm damaged goods."

"You think you're the only one whose had a rough past?" Dally asked.

"I don't want to be a burden on you," I said, wiping away a fallen tear.

"Oh please, you wouldn't burden me. Listen to this; I practically had to raise myself. My old man was nothing but an abusive drunk. My mom left him when I was younger, and I don't blame her. I spent most of my time on the streets because I was scared to go home. It wasn't until I got word that he had died of alcohol poisoning, that I even stepped a foot back into that house," Dally said.

"That must've been awful. I'm so sorry that you had to go through that. I never knew my parents. My whole childhood was foster home to foster home," I said.

"See?" Dally asked.

"See what?"

"You're broken. Just like me, and that's okay."

"You're right. I guess we do have that in common," I said.

Dally pulled a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it.

"Want one? Calms the nerves. I didn't mean for you to get all worked up," He said holding out the carton.

I gladly grabbed one and took a long drag on it, inhaling the pungent smoke. I blew it out, watching it billow in the air and disappear into nothing. We stood there in silence, finishing our cigarettes. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable, in fact, it was quite comforting. I looked up at the dark sky, scattered with thousands of brilliant little stars.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Dally looked up, following my gaze, "Now that you mention it, yeah, I guess it is."

"We should probably get back. The guys'll think we eloped to Mexico," Dally said.