Chapter Text
It was the summer of 1967 in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
Ace Evans was a sixteen year old girl, walking around the streets of her hometown by herself. She had her signature tank top on, her hand me down jean shorts, her orange socks. She was walking alone because her two older brothers were out working— they needed to work because their “parents” wouldn't use their money to pay any of the bills. They’d use it on drugs, alcohol, and only God knows what else.
There was a honk.
Ace kept walking— her pace picking up as she rolled her eyes; shoving her hands deep into her jean shorts pockets. She knew the sound of that car was way too fancy to be a greasers, it didn't sound broken down or like it needed to be fixed. Ace hung her head, focusing on her shoelaces and the ground ahead of her.
Another honk.
She ignored it once more, but when the fancy Cadillac car pulled up beside her, she couldn't just keep her head hung low and keep walking.
“Where is a lady like you walking to, huh?” An annoying laugh came from the mouth— it was Bob. Bob Sheldon. God, Ace hated him more than she hated half of the other people in Tulsa.
“Nowhere.” She said— looking up at the group.
Bob, Chet, Trip, Paul, and Randy were there.
Soc, soc, soc, soc, and soc.
No greasers were around, not that she could see.
“Yeah, girl, nowhere is right.” Trip smiled, going over to her side— rubbing her shoulder.
“Get off’a me, man.” Ace said, grabbing Trip’s hand and pushing it away from her.
“Fiesty.” Chet whispered, circling around her while the boys laughed. All except for one, Randy didn't laugh, no, he didn't think anything was funny.
“C’mon, you wanna show us what's under there? You a real girl, ain't you?” Trip asked— pushing closer to Ace; tugging at the fabric of her top. His voice was slurred, so that's what was going on. They were drunk, of course they were.
“Jesus, Terrance, you'd really stoop this low?!” Ace shouted— trying to get away from the boy, trying to push past him.
“Where are you goin’?” Bob asked, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her towards the ground.
When she fell, the concrete and rocks scratched her arm and shoulder. Ace hit her head against the ground too— a ringing forming.
“Hah!” Paul laughed, standing over her— poking Ace in her side with his foot. Ace remembered him, he used to be Darry’s best friend. God, she just wanted to stand up and spit in his face!
“Jesus Christ, you guys.” Randy said, pushing past all of his friends; he seemed like he was being the only reasonable one.
“Will you stop bein’ so goddamn rude?” He shouted; running a hand nervously through his dark hair.
“Who are you talking to, Randy?” Bob said, looking at him. He just got an annoyed look— when he didn't get a response, he pushed Randy’s chest.
“He’s lost his damn mind!” Bob shouted in the other boy’s face.
“What? You in love with a grease now?” Trip asked, staring at Randy; laughing.
“Of course not! You guys are bothering this poor girl for just walking around on her side of town! At least she stayed here instead of infecting our side!” Randy yelled, sticking up for the girl, even though he’d never met her, not even once in his life. Well, maybe he recognized her from the drive-ins, but he didn't worry about that. Randy was more worried about just getting her out of trouble immediately.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever man.” Bob rolled his eyes, letting go of Randy and looking at the rest of his friends.
“Let's get outta here.” Paul said, they left Randy standing there with the girl sitting on the ground.
The Cadillac drove away quickly, the people in the car yelling profanities at the two.
Randy sighed, turning around to look at Ace.
“Are you okay?” He asked— but the girl just stood up and scoffed.
“What's it matter to you? You trying to start in on me now?” Ace asked; crossing her arms.
“What? No!” Randy said, sounding genuinely offended that she would think of him like that.
“No, I just. They're being weird, they're drunk.” He said.
“Yeah, you're telling me?”
“Listen, okay… I know they're assholes, and I’m friends with them, but I’m not like that.” Randy explained, rubbing his clammy hands against his khaki’s.
“Then why the hell are you friends with them?” Ace asked, looking into his eyes.
“I’m friends with Bob. He's fine when he's not drunk, I guess. I need somewhere to fit in.” Randy was being surprisingly truthful, like he could trust the girl.
“You’re Randy Adderson, ain't you?” She asked, tilting her head slightly. The older boy nodded.
“You're friends with Cherry.”
“I mean, yeah, kind of…” He whispered, looking at the girl with a confused look.
“Ponyboy knows you too.” Ace said.
“Yeah…” He whispered, rubbing his neck awkwardly.
“Do you wanna be friends?” She asked, looking at him expectantly.
“...Sure.” Randy replied, smiling at her lightly.
“Will you be at the drive-ins Friday night?”
“Probably.”
“Cool, see you there, Randy! Have fun walking back to the West side!” She laughed, skipping away.
Randy stood there watching as the girl ran down the streets of the East side— he was completely confused, but she was already too far to ask any questions.
That entire interaction was the weirdest one he's ever had, but it made his day slightly better.