“W..well, I’m a ballerina..so I spend a lot of time in the studio..my teachers are strict..especially with what I eat. They freak out on me if I even think of eating a potato chip..” Beats of sweat had started to form on her forehead and run down the sides of her face. “I…I love it, though.”
"It's a real nice place, though- if it weren't for them social issues. There's good ol' Ponyboy and Two-Bit and Soda--" his voice began to crack up, "And Steve and Darry..." He clenched his teeth. "I miss em'"
Dally began to stir. "I had to have died this time," he muttered. "Nupe, s-still alive," Johnny replied, his voice crackly. He looked at Dally. "Would you want to go back?" he asked, a bit quietly. Dally thought for a moment. "I... I don't know..." he trailed off, thinking about it. Dally looked at Alexander. "Why'd ya hafta get rid of the little frog dude, Hammy? We still haven't gotten any answers whatsoever 'bout where the hell we are," He stared at him with his hard and ice cold eyes.
Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing and forgiving. It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weaknesses. — Ann Landers
