You've Really Got A Hold On Me ~ Darry Curtis × O.C

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[A/n: this was the chapter that had created the idea for the fic so I really hope you enjoy xx]

1965 ◇ Outside The Curtis House

Gracie climbed out of Sally's car and shut the door behind her. It was a quiet night in Tulsa. This was a good thing to Gracie beacause quietness meant no trouble, which meant that she wouldn't have to be worrying about the gang tonight.

"Thanks for the ride, Sal" she rested her elbows on the car door, smiling tiredly at her friend.

"No problem. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?" Sally returned the smile before blowing Gracie a kiss, which she jokingly caught.

As Sally sped away in her red car, Gracie opened the gate of the Curtis house and walked up to the front door. She knew that Darry would be home from work by now.

Pushing open the front door, she could hear the sound of the radio coming from the kitchen. "Who's that?" Darry's deep voice called out from where he was washing the dishes.

"It's Gracie," she called back. She hung her old jacket and handbag on the coat-rack beside the door, leaving her in her butter-stained work uniform.

The girl trudged into the kitchen, a yawn escaping from her lips. Darry noticed this and turned aroud, giving her a look which she recognised far too well. "I know what you're gonna say, please don't. I'm far too tired to argue with you now,"

"Well you wouldn't be if you cut down your work hours," he grumbled, but quickly shut up on the subject when he noticed how Gracie's eyes were burning a hole into the side of his head.

She rolled up her sleeves and walked over to the sink that was filled with suds. Without speaking, Darry stepped away, drying his hands with a tartan tea towel before starting to dry the dishes that were already dripping onto the draining board. He knew how relaxing Gracie found it to submerge her hands in the warm, soapy water. It was an unspoken rule between them: she washes, he dries.

"Who did you lie to?" Darry spoke a few moments later, drying the plate he held in his hands in circular motion.

Gracie creased her brows in confusion
How did he know about that? She thought. Almost as if he could read her mind, Darry continued to speak.

"Soda told me you came in here today and puked like a drunk, he said you were sick but..." he turned to face her. "You're barely ever sick. So who did you lie to?"

Gracie took a deep breath, he knew her too well. Her face heated up out of embarrasment at the thought of admiting to Darry how she dragged him into her lie. "Shelly Oaks,"

Darry let out a low chuckle, not expecting that answer. "My god, I haven't heard that name in years,"

"Same here... until she walked into the salon this morning," Gracie rinsed off a glass before leaving it on the draining board.  The sound of the radio softly  humming swirled around her ears as one of the rat pack sang, though she couldn't tell which one.