According to Wikipedia, The Outsiders is a coming-of-age novel by S. E. Hinton, first The book follows two rival groups, the Greasers and the Socs who are. this book? You can publish your book online for free in a few minutes! to Wikipedia, The Outsiders is a coming-of-age novel by S. E. Hinton. According to Wikipedia, The Outsiders is a coming-of-age novel by S. E. Hinton, first published in by Viking Press. Hinton was 15 when she started writing.
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Winner of the Massachusetts Children's Book Award. Penguin Young Readers Group; May ; ISBN: ; Read online, or download in secure. The Outsiders online book. Posted on December 2, by Mrs. Boyer · http:// ronacondare.tk Read The Outsiders eBook onlie. The book is wrote by.
They'd decided to stay and see the movie anyway. Itwas one of those beach-party movies with no plot and no acting but a lot of girls inbikinis and some swinging songs, so it was all right. I looked fearfully over my shoulder and there was Two-Bit, grinning like aChessy cat. Then I looked at Johnny.
His eyes were shutand he was as white as a ghost. His breath was coming in smothered gasps. Two-Bitknew better than to scare Johnny like that. I guess he'd forgotten. He's kind ofscatterbrained. I couldn't tell if Two-Bit was drunk or not.
It's kind of hard to tell with him heacts boozed up sometimes even when he's sober. Two-Bit stared at her admiringly. Where'd you twoever get to be picked up by a couple of greasy hoods like Pony and Johnny? They're worth ten camels apiece at least. Say somethin'in Arabian, Johnnycake. Against wisecracking greasers like you,probably. We thoughtwe were doing good if we could get him to talk at all. Incidentally, we don't mind beingcalled greaser by another greaser.
It's kind of playful then. I hope he don't getjailed again. Timothy Shepard and Co. Curly Shepard spotted Dallas doing it Does Dally have ablade? Tim'll fight fair if Dally don't pull a blade on him. Dally shouldn't haveany trouble. So are chains andheaters and pool sticks and rumbles.
Skin fighting isn't rough. It blows off steam betterthan anything. There's nothing wrong with throwing a few punches. Socs are rough.
Theygang up on one or two, or they rumble each other with their social clubs. Us greasersusually stick together, but when we do fight among ourselves, it's a fair fight betweentwo. And Dally deserves whatever he gets, 'cause slashed tires ain't no joke when you'vegot to work to pay for them.
He got spotted, too, and that was his fault. Our one rule,besides Stick together, is Don't get caught. He might get beat up, he might not. Eitherway there's not going to be any blood feud between our outfit and Shepard's, If weneeded them tomorrow they'd show. If Tim beats Dally's head in, and then tomorrow asksus for help in a rumble, we'll show.
Dally was getting kicks. He got caught. He pays up. No sweat. He sure put things into words good. Maybe hewas still a junior at eighteen and a half, and maybe his sideburns were too long, andmaybe he did get boozed up too much, but he sure understood things. Cherry and Marcia shook their heads at his offering of cigarettes, but Johnny andI reached for one. Johnny's color was back and his breathing was regular, but his handwas shaking ever so slightly.
A cigarette would steady it. I jumped up. Y'all want some? She was finishing the Coke Dally had given her. I realizedthen that Marcia and Cherry weren't alike. Cherry had said she wouldn't drink Dally'sCoke if she was starving, and she meant it. It was the principle of the thing. But Marciasaw no reason to throw away a perfectly good, free Coke. He flipped me a fifty cent piece. We went to the concession stand and, as usual, there was a line a mile long, so wehad to wait.
Quite a few kids turned to look at us you didn't see a kid grease and a Socycheerleader together often. Cherry didn't seem to notice. He's okay. And I don't like to talk about it either Johnny getting beat up, I mean. But Istarted in, talking a little faster than I usually do because I don't like to think about iteither. I had walked down to the DX station to geta bottle of pop and to see Steve and Soda, because they'll always download me a couple ofbottles and let me help work on the cars.
I don't like to go on weekends because thenthere is usually a bunch of girls down there flirting with Soda all kinds of girls, Socstoo. I don't care too much for girls yet. Soda says I'll grow out of it. He did. It was a warmish spring day with the sun shining bright, but it was getting chillyand dark by the time we started for home. We were walking because we had left Steve'scar at the station. At the corner of our block there's a wide, open field where we playfootball and hang out, and it's often a site for rumbles and fist fights.
We were passing it,kicking rocks down the street and finishing our last bottle of Pepsi, when Steve noticedsomething lying on the ground. He picked it up. It was Johnny's blue-jeans jacket theonly jacket he had. Suddenly he stopped and examined it more carefully. Therewas a stain the color of rust across the collar. He looked at the ground.
There were somemore stains on the grass. He looked up and across the field with a stricken expression onhis face. I think we all heard the low moan and saw the dark motionless hump on theother side of the lot at the same time. Soda reached him first.
Johnny was lying face downon the ground. Soda turned him over gently, and I nearly got sick. Someone had beatenhim badly.
We were used to seeing Johnny banged up his father clobbered him around alot, and although it made us madder than heck, we couldn't do anything about it. Butthose beatings had been nothing like this. Johnny's face was cut up and bruised andswollen, and there was a wide gash from his temple to his cheekbone.
He would carrythat scar all his life. His white T-shirt was splattered with blood. I just stood there,trembling with sudden cold. I thought he might be dead; surely nobody could be beatenlike that and live. Steve closed his eyes for a second and muffled a groan as he droppedon his knees beside Soda. Somehow the gang sensed what had happened. Two-Bit was suddenly therebeside me, and for once his comical grin was gone and his dancing gray eyes werestormy.
Darry had seen us from our porch and ran toward us, suddenly skidding to a halt. Dally was there, too, swearing under his breath, and turning away with a sick expressionon his face. I wondered about it vaguely. Dally had seen people killed on the streets ofNew York's West Side. Why did he look sick now? He gave the limpbody a slight shake. You're gonna be okay. I got so scared I had seen Johnny take a whipping with a two-by-four from his old man andnever let out a whimper.
That made it worse to see him break now. Soda just held himand pushed Johnny's hair back out of his eyes. It's okay. He had beenhunting our football to practice a few kicks when a blue Mustang had pulled up besidethe lot.
There were four Socs in it. They had caught him and one of them had a lot ofrings on his hand that's what had cut Johnny up so badly. It wasn't just that they hadbeaten him half to death he could take that. They had scared him. They had threatenedhim with everything under the sun.
Johnny was high-strung anyway, a nervous wreckfrom getting belted every time he turned around and from hearing his parents fight all thetime. Living in those conditions might have turned someone else rebellious and bitter; itwas killing Johnny. He had never been a coward. He was a good man in a rumble. Hestuck up for the gang and kept his mouth shut good around cops. But after the night of thebeating, Johnny was jumpier than ever.
I didn't think he'd ever get over it. And Johnny, who was the most law-abiding of us, nowcarried in his back pocket a six-inch switchblade. He'd use it, too, if he ever got jumpedagain. They had scared him that much. He would kill the next person who jumped him. Nobody was ever going to beat him like that again. Not over his dead body But when I cameback to reality and looked at her, I was startled to find her as white as a sheet.
Not all ofus are like that. I'll bet he's jumped afew people. It was true. Dally had jumped people. He had told us stories aboutmuggings in New York that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. But not all ofus were that bad. Cherry no longer looked sick, only sad. The rich kids, the West-side Socs. I'll tell you something, Ponyboy, and it may come as asurprise. We have troubles you've never even heard of.
You want to know something? Marcia and Two-Bit werehitting it off fine.
Both had the same scatterbrained sense of humor. But Cherry andJohnny and I just sat there, looking at the movie and not talking. I quit worrying abouteverything and thought about how nice it was to sit with a girl without having to listen toher swear or to beat her off with a club. I knew Johnny liked it, too.
He didn't talk to girlsmuch. Then he gave Johnny a lecture ongirls and how a sneaking little broad like Sylvia would get him into a lot of trouble.
As aresult, Johnny never spoke to girls much, but whether that was because he was scared ofSteve or because he was shy, I couldn't tell. I got the same lecture from Two-Bit after we'd picked up a couple of girlsdowntown one day.
I thought it was funny, because girls are one subject even Darrythinks I use my head about. And it really had been funny, because Two-Bit was halfcrocked when he gave me the lecture, and he told me some stories that about made mewant to crawl under the floor or something.
But he had been talking about girls likeSylvia and the girls he and Dally and the rest picked up at drive-ins and downtown; henever said anything about Socy girls. So I figured it was all right to be sitting there withthem.
Even if they did have their own troubles. I really couldn't see what Socs wouldhave to sweat about good grades, good cars, good girls, madras and Mustangs andCorvairs Man, I thought, if I had worries like that I'd consider myself lucky.
I know better now. Two-Bit gallantly offered to walk them home the westside of town was only about twenty miles away but they wanted to call their parentsand have them come and get them.
Two-Bit finally talked them into letting us drive themhome in his car. I think they were still half-scared of us. They were getting over it,though, as we walked to Two-Bit's house to pick up the car. It seemed funny to me thatSocs if these girls were any example were just like us.
They liked the Beatles andthought Elvis Presley was out, and we thought the Beatles were rank and that Elvis wastuff, but that seemed the only difference to me. Of course greasy girls would have acted alot tougher, but there was a basic sameness. I thought maybe it was money that separatedus.
Part of it is, butnot all. You greasers have a different set of values. You're more emotional. We'resophisticated cool to the point of not feeling anything. Nothing is real with us.
Youknow, sometimes I'll catch myself talking to a girl-friend, and realize I don't mean half ofwhat I'm saying. I don't really think a beer blast on the river bottom is super-cool, but I'llrave about one to a girl-friend just to be saying something. I think you're the first person I've ever really gotten through to. Did you ever hear of having more than you wanted?
Sothat you couldn't want anything else and then started looking for something else to want? It seems like we're always searching for something to satisfy us, and never finding it. Maybe if we could lose our cool. That was the truth. Socs were always behind a wall of aloofness, careful not to lettheir real selves show through. I had seen a social-club rumble once.
The Socs evenfought coldly and practically and impersonally. They were engaged in somewild conversation that made no sense to anyone but themselves.
I have quite a rep for being quiet, almost as quiet as Johnny. Two-Bit always saidhe wondered why Johnny and I were such good buddies. Nobody but Soda could really get me talking.
Till I met Cherry Valance. I don't know why I could talk to her; maybe for the same reason she could talk tome. I hadnever told anyone about Soda's horse. It was personal. Soda had this buckskin horse, only it wasn't his. It belonged to a guy who kept itat the stables where Soda used to work.
Mickey Mouse was Soda's horse, though. I was about tenthen. Sodapop is horsecrazy. He's always hanging around stables and rodeos,hopping on a horse every time he gets a chance. Mickey Mouse was a dark-gold buckskin,sassy and ornery, not much more than a colt.
He'd come when Soda called him. Hewouldn't come for anyone else. That horse loved Soda. He'd stand there and chew onSoda's sleeve or collar. Gosh, but Sodapop was crazy about that horse. He went down tosee him every day. Mickey Mouse was a mean horse: But not hard. He may have belonged to another guy,but he was Soda's horse. He was areal valuable horse. Pure quarter. I couldn't tell her that Soda hadbawled all night long after they came and got Mickey Mouse. I had cried, too, if you wantto know the truth, because Soda never really wanted anything except a horse, and he'dlost his.
Soda had been twelve then, going-on-thirteen. He never let on to Mom and Dadhow he felt, though, because we never had enough money and usually we had a hard timemaking ends meet. When you're thirteen in our neighborhood you know the score. I keptsaving my money for a year, thinking that someday I could download Mickey Mouse back forSoda. You're not so smart at ten. I was startled. I'll bet you watch sunsets, too. Maybe Cherry stood still and watched the sun set whileshe was supposed to be taking the garbage out.
Stood there and watched and forgoteverything else until her big brother screamed at her to hurry up. I shook my head. Itseemed funny to me that the sunset she saw from her patio and, the one I saw from theback steps was the same one.
Maybe the two different worlds we lived in weren't sodifferent. We saw the same sunset. Marcia suddenly gasped. We all looked and saw a blue Mustang coming down the street. Johnny made asmall noise in his throat and when I looked at him he was white. Marcia was shifting nervously. I wondered why Johnny was a nervous wreck, buthe never was that jumpy.
Cherry started walking down the street. Act normal. Marcia sighed in relief. You don't talk muchabout him. He's big and handsome and likes to play football. I feel like I know Soda from the way you talk about him;tell me about Darry. Dreamy, like you? I burst out bitterly: He's hard as a rock and about ashuman.
He's got eyes exactly like frozen ice. He thinks I'm a pain in the neck. He likesSoda everybody likes Soda but he can't stand me. I bet he wishes he could stick mein a home somewhere, and he'd do it, too, if Soda'd let him. I knew my ears were red by the waythey were burning, and I was thankful for the darkness.
I felt stupid. Compared toJohnny's home, mine was heaven. At least Darry didn't get drunk and beat me up or runme out of the house, and I had Sodapop to talk things over with. That made me mad, Imean making a fool of myself in front of everyone. And you can't blame them. Two-Bitslapped me a good one across the side of the head, and hard. If you wasn't Soda's kid brother I'd beat the tar out of you.
You know better than to talk to Johnny like that. Johnny was my buddy. Thingswere rough all over, all right. All over the East Side. It just didn't seem right to me. Like it or lump it.
I guess they didn't know what to say. Wehad forgotten they were there. Then the blue Mustang was coming down the street again,more slowly. They were Socs all right. One had on a white shirt and a madras ski jacket, and the othera light yellow shirt and a wine-colored sweater.
I looked at their clothes and realized forthe first time that evening that all I had was a pair of jeans and Soda's old navy sweatshirt with the sleeves cut short. I swallowed. Two-Bit started to tuck in his shirttail, butstopped himself in time; he just flipped up the collar of his black leather jacket and lit acigarette.
The Socs didn't even seem to see us. Johnny was breathing heavily and I noticed he was staring at the Soc's hand. Hewas wearing three heavy rings. I looked quickly at Johnny, an idea dawning on me. Iremembered that it was a blue Mustang that had pulled up beside the vacant lot and thatJohnny's face had been cut up by someone wearing rings The Soc's voice broke into my thoughts: You call reeling and passing out in the streets 'alittle'?
Bob, I told you, I'm never going out with you while you're drinking, and I mean it. Too many things could happen while you're drunk. It's me or the booze. We can look meaner than anything when we wantto looking tough comes in handy.
Two-Bit put his elbow on Johnny's shoulder. Justwait a minute. I can't stand them I mean You're a nice boy andeverything Or at least that Ihad on a decent shirt. Just don't forget that some of us watchthe sunset too. We walked on home, mostly in silence. I wanted to ask Johnny if those were thesame Socs that had beaten him up, but I didn't mention it. Johnny never talked about itand we never said anything. He took a piece of paper out,of his pocket andtore it up. Probably a phony one, too. I must have been outa my mind toask for it.
I think I'm a little soused. Two-Bit was smart. He knew the score. I wanted to have another smoke and to watch the stars. Ihad to be in by twelve, but I thought I had plenty of time. Maybe get rip-roarin'drunk. I dunno. See y'all tomorrow. I was freezingit was a cold night and all I had was that sweat shirt, but I could watch stars in sub-zeroweather. I saw Johnny's cigarette glowing in the dark and wondered vaguely what it waslike inside a burning ember Mustangs are tuff.
It wasn'tfair for the Socs to have everything. We were as good as they were; it wasn't our fault wewere greasers. I couldn't just take it or leave it, like Two-Bit, or ignore it and love lifeanyway, like Sodapop, or harden myself beyond caring, like Dally, or actually enjoy it,like Tim Shepard. I felt the tension growing inside of me and I knew something had tohappen or I would explode.
But I gotta do something. It seems like there's gotta be someplacewithout greasers or Socs, with just people. Plain ordinary people. I loved the country. I wanted to be out of towns and away fromexcitement. I only wanted to lie on my back under a tree and read a book or draw apicture, and not worry about being jumped or carrying a blade or ending up married tosome scatterbrained broad with no sense. The country would be like that, I thoughtdreamily.
I would have a yeller cur dog, like I used to, and Sodapop could get MickeyMouse back and ride in all the rodeos he wanted to, and Darry would lose that cold, hardlook and be like he used to be, eight months ago, before Mom and Dad were killed.
SinceI was dreaming I brought Mom and Dad back to life Mom could bake some morechocolate cakes and Dad would drive the pickup out early to feed the cattle. He wouldslap Darry on the back and tell him he was getting to be a man, a regular chip off theblock, and they would be as close as they used to be. Mymother was golden and beautiful The stars had moved.
I went to sleep, too, listening to you rattle on and on. You'd betterget home.
I think I'll stay all night out here. Gosh, but it was cold. The porch light was on. Maybe they were asleep and I could sneak in, I thought. I peeked in the window. Sodapop was stretched out on the sofa, sound asleep, but Darry was in the armchair underthe lamp, reading the newspaper.
I gulped, and opened the door softly. Darry looked upfrom his paper. He was on his feet in a second. I stood there, chewing on my fingernail. Do you know what time it is? I shook my head wordlessly. Another hour and I would have had thepolice out after you. Where were you, Ponyboy? I went to sleep in the lot And you were asleep in thelot?
Ponyboy, what on earth is the matter with you? Can't you use your head? Youhaven't even got a coat on. I forgot! That's all I hear out of you!
Can't you think of anything? I'msick and tired of hearin' you stick up for him. Nobody should ever holler at my brother. Darry wheeled around and slapped me sohard that it knocked me against the door. Suddenly it was deathly quiet.
We had all frozen. Nobody in my family had everhit me. Soda was wide-eyed. Darry looked at the palm of his hand where it hadturned red and then looked back at me. His eyes were huge. I was running away. It was plain to me that Darry didn't want me around.
And Iwouldn't stay if he did. We ran for several blocks until we were out of breath. Then we walked. I was crying by then. I finally just sat down on the curb and cried,burying my face in my arms. Johnny sat down beside me, one hand on my shoulder. My breath was comingin quivering sobs. You're scarin' me. What happened? I never seen you bawl likethat. He hit me.
I don't know what happened, but Icouldn't take him hollering at me and hitting me too. I don't know He didn't use to be like that Now he just can't stand me. I walk in that house, and nobody says anything. I walkout, and nobody says anything. I stay away all night, and nobody notices.
At least you gotSoda. I ain't got nobody. Dally didn'tslug you tonight 'cause you're the pet. I mean, golly, Johnny, you got the whole gang. I was beginning to relax and wonder if running away was such a great idea. I wassleepy and freezing to death and I wanted to be home in bed, safe and warm under thecovers with Soda's arm across me.
I decided I would go home and just not speak toDarry. It was my house as much as Darry's, and if he wanted to pretend I wasn't alive,that was just fine with me. He couldn't stop me from living in my own house. Then maybe I'll be cooled off enough to gohome. They couldn't get worse. I was wrong. The pool was empty now in the fall, but thefountain was going merrily. Tall elm trees made the park shadowy and dark, and it wouldhave been a good hangout, but we preferred our vacant lot, and the Shepard outfit likedthe alleys down by the tracks, so the park was left to lovers and little kids.
Nobody was around at two-thirty in the morning, and it was a good place to relaxand cool off. I couldn't have gotten much cooler without turning into a popsicle. Johnnysnapped up his jeans jacket and flipped up the collar. I started to say something about the film of ice developing on the outer edges ofthe fountain when a sudden blast from a car horn made us both jump. The blue Mustangwas circling the park slowly.
This is ourterritory. What are Socs doing this far east? But I bet they're looking for us. We pickedup their girls. That scared me. A cool deadly bluff could sometimesshake them off, but not if they outnumbered you five to two and were drunk. Johnny'shand went to his back pocket and I remembered his switchblade.
I'd sure show them I could use it if I had to. Johnny was scared to death. He was as white as a ghost and his eyes were wild-looking, like the eyes of an animal in atrap. We backed against the fountain and the Socs surrounded us. They smelled soheavily of whiskey and English Leather that I almost choked.
I wished desperately thatDarry and Soda would come along hunting for me. The four of us could handle themeasily. But no one was around, and I knew Johnny and I were going to have to fight it outalone. Johnny had a blank, tough look on his face you'd have had to know him to seethe panic in his eyes.
I stared at the Socs coolly. Maybe they could scare us to death, butwe'd never let them have the satisfaction of knowing it. It was Randy and Bob and three other Socs, and they recognized us. I knewJohnny recognized them; he was watching the moonlight glint off Bob's rings with hugeeyes.
Hey, greasers. Bob was eyeing Johnny. Next time you want a broad, pick up yer own kinddirt. I was hating them enough to lose my head.
I've been cussed out and sworn at, butnothing ever hit me like that did. Johnnycake made a kind of gasp and his eyes weresmoldering. Bob shook his head, smiling slowly. And a good working over. And we've got all night to do it. Give the kid a bath, David. I fought, but the hand at the back of myneck was strong and I had to hold my breath.
I'm dying, I thought, and wondered whatwas happening to Johnny. I couldn't hold my breath any longer. I fought againdesperately but only sucked in water. I'm drowning, I thought, they've gone too far Ared haze filled my mind and I slowly relaxed. The next thing I knew I was lying on the pavement beside the fountain, coughingwater and gasping. I lay there weakly, breathing in air and spitting out water. The windblasted through my soaked sweat shirt and dripping hair.
My teeth chattered unceasinglyand I couldn't stop them. I finally pushed myself up and leaned back against the fountain,the water running down my face. Then I saw Johnny. He was sitting next to me, one elbow on his knee, and staring straight ahead.
Hewas a strange greenish-white, and his eyes were huger than I'd ever seen them. Adark pool was growing from him, spreading slowly over the blue white cement. I lookedat Johnny's hand.
He was clutching his switchblade, and it was dark to the hilt. Mystomach gave a violent jump and my blood turned icy. Then I leaned back and closedmy eyes so I wouldn't see Bob lying there.
This can't be happening. This can't be They were drowning you, Pony. They might have killed you. And they had a blade They allran They put you in the electric chairfor, killing people!
I want a cigarette. I want acigarette. We had smoked our last pack. What are we gonna do? He shook me. Get ahold of yourself. I shook loose. Get somewhere. Run away.
The police'll be here soon. But Johnny, except for the fact that his hands were twitching, looked as coolas Darry ever had. And maybe a gun.
And a plan. Maybe a gun? A plan. Where in the world would we get these things? If not, why not? Imagine that you were a character in the book. Would you be associated with the Greasers or the Socs? Discuss the various attitudes toward fighting found in The Outsiders. Which attitudes do you agree with? Which attitudes do you disagree with? Do you feel that violence can ever be justified? Who is the narrator of The Outsiders? What point of view is it told in? What effect do you think this has on the story?
How do Ponyboy's relationships with Darry and Sodapop differ? Do you think Darry loves Ponyboy? Why does he treat Ponyboy the way he does? Johnny is portrayed as being particularly quiet and sensitive. Why do you think he is this way? How do the other Greasers treat him? Why is the "gang" so important to Johnny? How is his family situation different from that of Ponyboy and his brothers?
Dallas is portrayed as a particularly tough character. What makes Ponyboy admire him? Is Dally redeemed by his love and concern for Johnny? Ponyboy says, "I lie to myself all the time. And why do you think he does it? Do you ever lie to yourself? What does Cherry tell Ponyboy is the difference between the Socs and the Greasers? How does this differ from Ponyboy's perspective on the situation? Ponyboy says, "Johnny and I understood each other without saying anything.
Have you ever had a relationship with someone who you understood, or who understood you, without having to say anything? When and how did Pony's parents die? How were his and his brothers' lives changed by this? How do Johnny's prior experiences with the Socs affect his behavior in the park? Does the fact that he was defending his friend's life justify his actions? Why or why not? What is your definition of a hero? Do you think that Johnny, Ponyboy, and Dallas are heroes? Ponyboy says that he would rather have someone's hate than their pity.
Why do you think he says this? Ponyboy says, "Johnny didn't have anything to do with Bob's getting killed. Does he believe that this is true? Johnny leaves the copy of Gone with the Wind to Ponyboy. Why is this significant? How does it illustrate their friendship?
How does this apply to the characters in the novel? What does Johnny mean when he tells Pony to "stay gold"? Do you think it is obvious that the novel was written when the author was only sixteen years old? Support your answer with details from the book. We'd done that before. I was a really good pool player, especially for being just sixteen years old, and, what's more, I look like a baby-faced kid who wouldn't know one ball from another.
This, and the way Mark set me up, helped me hustle a lot of pool games. The bad deal is, it's against the law to be in this pool hall if you're under age, because of the adjoining bar.
The good deal is, the bartender and owner was a good friend of mine, being the older brother of this chick I used to like. When this chick and me broke up, I still stayed friends with her brother, which is unusual in cases like that.