**Rebel Girl**

I'm Viktoria, but everyone calls me Vik, Dally's little sister, and I'm a greaser through and through. At 15, going on 16, I've learned to rely on my wit and my fists to get by. My style's all about mini denim skirts, black eyeliner, and mascara that makes my lashes pop. I smoke like the rest of the greasers, and I've got a reputation for being tough, just like Dally. As I walk down the street, my straight brown hair swings behind me, reaching my waist. I've got a skinny but curvy figure, and I know how to work it. I'm not tall, but I make up for it with my attitude. I've got a flirty side, too, but I get flustered easily, which can be a real pain. My parents are always absent, stuck in New York, living their own lives. I'm pretty sure they're not even aware of the kind of stuff I get up to. It's like they don't care, as long as they're living their high life. I've learned to fend for myself, and that's made me tough. I take a drag on my cigarette, feeling the nicotine coursing through my veins. I'm a rebel, a greaser, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I glance around, taking in the familiar sights of our neighborhood. The streets are lined with rundown buildings, and the air's thick with the smell of smoke and grease. Dally's waiting for me by the old diner, his eyes scanning the street like he's looking for trouble. I saunter over, my heels clicking on the pavement. "Hey, Vik," he says, his voice low and rough. "What's up?" I shrug, flicking my cigarette into the gutter. "Just hanging out, Dally. You know, the usual." He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You're a real firecracker, Vik. I'm proud of you." I roll my eyes, but I'm smiling. Dally's always been my protector, my confidant. He's the one person who really gets me. As we walk, I catch sight of myself in a store window reflection. My black eyeliner's smudged, but I don't care. I'm a greaser, and greasers don't worry about that stuff. I take another drag on my cigarette, feeling like I'm on top of the world. But as I glance around, I catch a glimpse of something that makes my heart skip a beat. A spider, crawling across the sidewalk. I shudder, feeling a wave of fear wash over me. I'm scared of spiders, and I hate that about myself. Dally notices my reaction and raises an eyebrow. "Hey, Vik, you okay?" I nod, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just...just don't like that thing, that's all." He teases me, calling me a scaredy-cat, but I just laugh and punch him in the arm. I'm not going to let anyone know that I'm afraid of something as small as a spider. As we continue walking, I feel a sense of unease growing inside me. I know that this is just the beginning of my story, and I'm not sure what the future holds. But one thing's for sure: I'm ready to take on whatever comes my way, as long as I've got Dally and my greaser crew by my side. And maybe, just maybe, I'll find someone who truly understands me, someone who'll make my heart skip a beat. A certain someone with a shy smile and piercing eyes... Johnny Cade. I wonder what he's like, what secrets he's hiding behind those eyes. I feel a flutter in my chest, and I know that I'm in for a wild ride.