Page 33 of Soul So Dark
“What do you mean?”
Dallas purses her lips with a huff. “I bombed one of her Spanish quizzes and when she handed it back to me, she asked why I wasn’t as good of a Spanish student as my brother.”
“What?” I scoff.
“Everyone heard it,” she adds softly.
Fucking cunt…
The last thing anyone with the name “Johnson” needs to be doing is ridiculing someone for how quickly they learn Spanish.
“Sounds like she’s just a shit teacher,” I shrug, “you’d be way better off if I was teaching you.”
“Yeah,OK,” she snickers, deflecting my response. “So, do you really just live with your brothers?”
“Yes,” I reply, letting her change the subject, “Adrian, my oldest brother, is 25, he runs my dad’s business, he’s a workaholic, will probably be riddled with arthritis by the time he’s 30, and thinks I’m the biggest disappointment on the planet. My other brother, Luca, is 22, and may or may not be part of a gang, on drugs, or both.”
A wide smile slowly spreads across her face, “You all sound like the Curtises.”
“Who the hell are the Curtises?”
Dallas erupts with the cutest flutter of giggles I’ve ever heard. “FromThe Outsiders.It’s a book,” then she shrugs, “and a movie.”
Pausing the game, she raises up on her knees and reaches up to the shelf beneath the photo frames. She plucks out a small book and hands it to me. The cover is worn, but still a shiny dark blue with the illustrated faces of a few mean-mugging boys on the front.
“Darryl Curtis is the oldest,” she explains, “and he’s a roofer that works all the time to take care of his two younger brothers so they don’t get sent to a boys’ home after their parents die. Sodapop is the middle brother who dropped out of high school and works at the gas station. A lot of times he ends up being the mediator between his brothers. And Ponyboy is the youngest who’s in high school and still has some shred of whimsy, but he tries hard to be a tough greaser.”
“Sodapop…” I glance between her and the book cover, “andPonyboy?”
“Yes,” she replies.
I shoot her a dubious look, but settle back onto the pillows and open the book. It’s not very long, and before I realize it, skimming the first few pages has turned into a few chapters. Dallas continues playing, the sounds of Lara Croft’s expedition punctuating the silence.
“Wait,” I finally say, sitting up a little straighter, “there’s a guy namedDallasin here?”
“Yes,” she deadpans, not looking away from the screen.
I crack a smile. “Isthatwhy Col calls you Dally?”
“Yes,” she replies with more of an edge.
It makes total sense now. It also makes sense why Dallas gets so bent out of shape about it. This dude, Dallas Winston, is a cold motherfucker with platinum blonde hair who has no respect for anyone or anything. Basically, the antithesis of Dallas Lutz.
I hesitate, debating whether to ask what I’m about to ask. “Is that why Aiden calls you Dally, too?”
Dallas casts me a sideways glance. “At least that’s all he does anymore, since Sydney moved here.”
And what a shit show that turned out to be.
“I almost feel bad,” she chuckles, “like he should keep bothering me instead of her. At least I’m used to it. Why won’t he leave her alone?”
“He loves her.”
Dallas freezes, then turns to me with eyes wide. “What?”
I crack a smile. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”
“But…”
