Before The Storm

Cooper-Rose Curtis is twelve years old in 1960's Tulsa Oklahoma. Her parents died a few years ago, so she lives with her older brothers as a Greaser. Cooper gets into rumbles, and has her own little war with the socs (pronounced 'so-shes').
(inspired by the book The Outsiders. Read the book before you read this)

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1. Chapter One

        I stepped out into the bright sunlight, just as the world was new. The sunlight warmed up the grass as the grass tickled my bare feet. Darry says that I’m eventually gonna cut up my feet running ‘round barefoot, but I do it all the time anyways. Once, I stepped on a piece of glass, but it didn’t hurt, ‘cause the calluses on the bottom of my feet are so thick not even a shard of glass can pierce them. I ran across the front yard and stopped at my favorite tree. I love to climb trees. I like to be taller tan everyone else. I’m always the shortest, and the youngest. I turn thirteen next month, but I’m in high school with my brother, Ponyboy, who skipped a grade. I skipped three. I’m also the youngest of our gang. They had to accept me, ‘cause I’m Darry, and Soda’s kid sister and I know how to keep my mouth shut and stay out of trouble real good. Plus, I’m a good fighter, so they keep me in case of a rumble. I think the main reason they keep me around, is so the Socs don’t jump them, cause, let’s be honest, who would jump a little girl? Sometimes I think Steve Randle, Soda’s best buddy, want to get rid of me, ‘cause I don’t look like an innocent little girl anymore. The rest of the gang likes me just fine, I’m like everyone’s little sister, and I act older than I am. Usually. If you ask Darry, he’d say that no matter how old I get, you’d always think I’m only nine. I don’t always act young. Besides, sometimes it’s good to act younger than you really are. Once, I was walking with Soda, and we almost got jumped, but I played a scared little girl, and they let me go, but when they grabbed Soda, I took a stick and beat the tar out of them. He still owes me for that. The Socs are the West-Side rich kids. It’s short for Socials. I can’t spell it, but they’re always runnin’ ‘round drunk, wearing their Madras, and drivin’ their Mustangs.

  I sat in the big tree that has been in our front yard longer than Darry’s been alive. I loved to watch the sun rise. I heard the front door shut quietly.

“Hey, Pony!” I call. My brother looks at me. He always watches the sun rise with me. Ponyboy is my closest brother. He’s only fourteen, the second youngest of our gang next to me. He’s got hair that’s almost red in the summer, but light brown in the winter. He’s got greenish-gray eyes, and long hair. We look nothing alike. I’ve got long auburn hair that turns a bright red in the summer and hangs down to my rear, and I’m

really tall for my age, only a couple inches shorter than him, so most kids at school think we’re like, fraternal twins or something.  I was also born with Alexandria’s Genesis, a genetic mutation. My eyes were a blue-ish gray was also born with Alexandria’s Genesis, a genetic mutation. My eyes were a blue-ish gray when I was born, and by time I was seven months old, they had turned a deep purple. From a distance, they can look brown. 

“Hey, Coop.” Pony says. We sit in silence for a bit. The sun rises slowly, making the world a beautiful gold. Finally, I see a person walking towards us. I break out in a grin.

“Hey, Johnny!!” I call, hopping down from the branch. Johnny Cade. I really like Johnny. He’s the gang's pet, and the third youngest. He’s only an inch or two taller than Pony, therefore, not much taller than me. He’s got jet black hair, and big black eyes. Pony once said that he looks like “a little puppy that was kicked too many times and lost in a crowd of strangers”. Johnny looked at me and grinned. Johnny’s got it real rough at home, so whenever he grins, it’s as if the sun finally came out from behind the clouds.

“Hey, Coop.” He says.

“Wanna come inside?” I ask “Darry and Soda’ll be wantin’ breakfast in a minute.”

“Sure.”

 

  We step inside just as Sodapop comes running into the living room. Soda’s the handsomest of my brothers, and I mean movie star handsome. He’s got dark gold hair that’s a wheat color in the summer, and dark brown eyes, that’re always smiling, assuming eyes could smile.

“Johnnycake!!” He shouts, giving Johnny a bear hug. Sodapop’ll never grow up, and that’s fine with me, I like him fun and immature.

“Hey, Soda.” Johnny says. Soda looks at me and Pony,

“Breakfast, First-Ones-Up?” he asks, with a raised eyebrow, a trick he’d picked up from Two-Bit Mathews, one of our gang. I sighed and got to cooking.

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