After one bath, threes showers, and thirty minutes of scrubbing my face with soap, I'd come to two conclusions:

1. The red liquid Randy had poured on me last night, was indeed, fake blood.

And, 2. My skin was now stained a pastel pink, and probably wouldn't come out for a few days.

My brain mentally prepared itself for all of the names passing socs would call out at me as I walked through the town in quick steps to get to the Curtis house. Today, I was baking a batch of chocolate chip brownies with Darry, and I was beyond excited to spend some time with him. The oldest Curtis had been spending most of his free time picking up extra shifts at the roofing company he works for. Of course, I didn't blame him for wanting to work more and receive a steady paycheck. Honestly, I admired Darry's work ethic and sometimes envied how how easy and simple his life appeared. As everyone knows though, looks can be deceiving, and the words 'easy' and 'simple' were definitely the last ones I'd used to describe the small family's actual life.

During the time I've spent at the Curtis house I've noticed that the boys' parents were never around. At first, I assumed that they had just abandoned them, much Dally's parents and my dad. I wish that my theory was correct, but sadly it's far from the truth. Darry had opened up to me about how his parents had died in a tragic car crash on the nearby train tracks. He was able to graduate high school, but couldn't apply to colleges because he needed to maintain a steady job and support his brothers. Sodapop soon dropped out to try and ease the financial burden off of Darry, though it wasn't much help but still made a difference. Now, Ponyboy remains as the only Curtis brother left in school, and he's acquired the pressure of maintaining his grades along with graduating and applying for college.

I felt bad for the small family of three, and wanted to help them as much as I could. I spent most of my mornings and evenings with Darry in the kitchen, in addition to driving Ponyboy to school with Dallas in his new — stolen — car. Unlike the rest of the gang, it didn't come as much to me when Dallas decided to help out more. I was beginning to see a different side to the tough, New York teen, and I had to admit that my feelings for him were starting to develop more because of it.

"What's your deal?"

Darry's voice seemed to snap me out of whatever trance I was in as my thoughts dispersed back into the depths of my complicated mind.

"What?" I said, dumbfounded by my own lack of listening. Apparently, Darry must've been trying to get my attention for the past five minutes.

"What's your deal?" Darry repeated. He poured the pre-made brownie batter into a large plastic bowl, the tiny remnants flew into the air and dropped onto the counter messily.

"My deal?" I said again, clearly not understanding what he was asking. Man, I should really pay more attention when people are trying to talk to me.

"Yeah," Darry said with a nod. "What's going on between you and Dally?" I watched as he cracked open an egg on the counter, pouring it's yoke into the mix of ingredients.

I gave him a small, unsure shrug as I crossed my arms over my chest. "Nothing," I lied with ease.

Darry gave me a knowing look, clearing he wasn't taking the bait. "Sure," he said sarcastically, dragging out the word.

With a huff, I hopped off the counter I was sitting on and stood beside him, passing the necessary ingredients every now and then. "How would you even know if something's going on between us?"

"Please, Diana, I'm not as old as you may think I am," Darry chuckled. He took the fork out of my hands and began mixing the brownie batter. "Word travels fast in a small town like Tulsa."

"Apparently," I muttered with a roll of my eyes. It was that very fact that made me dislike the the town. I enjoyed the privacy and lack of communication that I had back in New York. In Tulsa, I felt almost vulnerable to all the secrets and rumors spread about me. Everything you do or say can spread across town like wildfire, and that was very dangerous for me, especially with the whole 'wanted criminal' thing I had going for me right now.

"Two-Bit always talks about how you guys are attached again the hip or something," Darry mused.

"Damn, Two, doesn't know how to shut his trap," I sighed. Darry laughed at that and continued to mix the batter until it transformed into a gooey, delicious chocolate that was just about ready to be baked in the oven. "And, I wouldn't say we're 'attached at the hip'."

"You sure about that?" Darry questioned, raising his eyebrows skeptically. "You two sure hangout a lot."

"Yeah, maybe, but it's not like that," I countered, but even I sounded wary of my own words. Was it like that? I wasn't really even sure myself.

Darry nodded along, still displaying a look of disbelief along his expression. After pouring a bag of chocolate chips into the brownie mix, he carefully placed the batter into the oven, cautious not to burn himself in the process. When the older boy finally stood back up, he set a timer and leaned his back against the side of the refrigerator. "Look, I'm not judging you if that's what you're thinking," he said. I wasn't thinking about that though. I knew that Darry had my back on almost anything, and supported me through most of my decisions. It was as if he was my own sibling; my own big brother. "I happen to think you and Dal are nice together."

"We're not together," I replied adamantly.

"I know," Darry sighed. "That's not my point though."

"Then, what is your point?" I pressed.

Darry shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're real stubborn, you know that?"

"Well aware," I chuckled knowingly, putting on a smug smile too.

"All I'm saying, is that you seem to make Dally happy and he seems to make you happy," Darry concluded. I didn't exactly know what to say or how to even respond to that. Ultimately, what he said was true. This is the happiest I've been in a long time, but whether or not that had something to do with Dallas was a completely different question that I didn't have the answer to right now.

I just sent Darry the most genuine smile I could muster up, and hoped he would take that as a 'thank you.'

A little over an hour had passed, and the chocolate chip brownies were cooked and cooled, ready to be served to the hungry and eager boys who waited in the living room. I walked alongside Darry as he placed the baking pan onto the coffee table, which sat in front of the couch. Although there was a serving spatula placed beside the tray, Two-Bit's manners were diminished as he just reached into the dessert and carelessly pulled out a piece, dropping chocolatey crumbs onto the table and floor.

"Come on, man!" Johnny groaned with a disgusted look on his face after witnessing Two-Bit casually put his hands on the brownies.

Two-Bit spoke with food in his mouth, "What?" He exclaimed, not aware of his actions.

I rolled my eyes at his obviousness. "You just manhandled those brownies."

"So?" He chuckled with a silly smile on his face.

Darry sighed as he walked over to his recliner, sitting down and pulling today's newspaper out from his back pocket. "I don't care how you eat, just clean up the mess when you're done," he said, already checking out of the conversation to read the daily news.

"These brownies are pretty good," Ponyboy complimented, already finishing his first slice.

"Yeah, what's the special ingredient?" Sodapop chimed in.

Two-Bit smirked and his light brown eye's narrowed mischievously in my direction. "Yeah, Diana, what is the ingredient?"

I raised a brow at his strange behavior. "Vanilla extract?" I said unsurely, even though that was the actual ingredient.

Two-Bit grinned like the cheshire cat. "Or was it.. you know," he said slyly, sending me a wink.

I huffed, crossing my arms in annoyance. I knew what he was insinuating before he even mentioned it. "Don't take it there, Two," I warned.

"What're they talking about?" Sodapop asked Ponyboy, who merely laughed knowingly and pushed his brother away. "Was vanilla extract not the secret ingredient?" Sodapop questioned again.

"It was," I confirmed.

"Yeah, if Dally is code for vanilla," Two-Bit muttered. My eyed widened and I shot him a pointed glare.

"Wait, what?" Johnny said, his face contorting in an expression of utter confusion.

"Are you telling me.. that you baked Dal into a batch of brownies?" Sodapop questioned stupidly. He had to be joking.

Ponyboy instantly burst into laughter, while I brought my palm up to my face and shook my head. "Soda, that's not even possible."

"Yeah, man," Two-Bit agreed. "I was just saying that the ingredient was love."

"I don't get it," Sodapop stated.

Johnny nodded along. "Why would it be love?"

My face burned to above thousand degrees, and my cheeks were redder than a tomato, especially because of the fake blood that still stained me.

"You idiots!" Ponyboy laughed loudly. "They obviously like each other!"

"We do not!" I exclaimed pointedly.

"Yeah, right," Two-Bit said through laughter. "You're blushing hardcore right now!"

"That's the fake blood, dumbass!" I defended myself. Although, truthfully, I wasn't quite sure if it really was the blood.

"Hey," Darry spoke up for the first time in awhile. He glanced over the newspaper he was holding and pointed a finger at me. "Language."

"Seriously?" I groaned.

"It's so obvious now," Sodapop realized. It was like a lightbulb finally went on in his head.

"Nothing is obvious," I said with an exasperated huff.

"You smitten kitten, you!" Two-Bit said teasingly. His lips morphed into a toothy grin as the rest of the boys — minus, Darry, who had resigned to reading the newspaper again — laughed at his antics and accusation.

"Don't make me beat that smile off of your face," I threatened Two-Bit. He put his hands up in surrender, but continued to laugh with a wide grin.

"Whatever you say," Two-Bit sighed, his laughter, along with the rest of the boys' finally began to die down. It seemed that the topic of my feelings for Dallas Winston would be an inescapable conversation today. "So, I came up with an idea after what happened last night," Two-Bit announced in a more serious tone.

"Oh, no," Johnny sighed.

"What's your great idea this time?" I asked. Hopefully it was better than the time he proposed to host a geese fight in town. Unsurprisingly, Steve and Sodapop had joined in on the idea, saying 'it sounded like fun.' According to the boys, the winner got to keep the geese, so some random kid went home with four that day.

"Well, after that prank Bob and Randy pulled on you, I got to thinking," Two-Bit continued.

"That's never good," Darry added quietly, so that only I heard his joke. I feigned a laugh and just put on a smirk.

"What if, you, me, and Steve trash their locker room right before the last football game tomorrow?" Two-Bit offered confidently. My eyebrows rose in amusement because that wasn't a bad idea.

"Two, I think that's the best idea you've ever came up with," I admitted honestly. He smiled, brushing off his shoulder in a proud manner.

"No it's not," Darry interjected. He stood up and rolled the newspaper up tightly, pointing it at the two of us. "I usually don't care what you idiots do, but I'm telling you this is a bad idea."

"How's it bad?" Two-Bit asked.

"I know every guy on that team," Darry explained. "I'm friends with half of them, and when they find out that you three trashed their locker room right before their biggest game, you're dead meat."

"I'm not afraid of jocks," I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"I'm not saying you should be," Darry said. "I just think you guys should think long and hard before you make your final decision." The older boy grabbed the half eaten brownie tray and strolled into the kitchen to clean up.

Two-Bit and I immediately shared a look, and it only took a split second before I said, "See you Monday."