Freshman and Sophomore
By S.M. Scott

A/N: I do not own the Outsiders

Chapter One
First day of High School

(this whole story is all from Tania's P.O.V)

So, this was the big day.

I was finally there. I was fourteen last May 23rd, and I was in high school. The wery first time I walked up to West Brentman High School, I thought I was going to die from the worry that nobody else would like me. I saw some of the Social-Class jocks already. One or two of them, noticing I was a girl (maybe) looked up momentarily, as though hoping there might be something to check out, but, upon seeing my plainness, their expressions turned to disgust and they pretended I wasn't there. Expensive bastards.

Anyway, the girls I still had some hope in, but unfortunately, before I had walked into my first ever welcome assembly, I already had a bad experience trying to extend the hand of friendship to one. She was blonde, and the other one was very dark-haired. One of them said, "If you ever speak to me again, I will kick your ass." The dark-haired one sniggered and they both walked away, still laughing all the way. Even I began to think I sounded ridiculous.

Anyway, I went to the auditorium, and there was a crazy jungle world of students there whose population made high school hell. There were Socs, the middle class, the nerds, the jocks, the cheerleaders, the school orchestra nerds, the underachieving criminals of tommorow, the overachieving nerds, the wierdly religious ones who believed every future day set by mankind for the Judgement Day would come to be the end, the prepsters, the burnouts, the dirty Mexicans, the actually decent Mexicans, the black kids, the strict vegans, the students who hardly ate anything at all, the student council, the typewriter's commitee, and last, but not least, the greasers.

I was totally lost in this sea of pubescent insanity. I couldn't even find the row where my homeroom sat on Mondays. My homeroom teacher's name was Rhonda Kimball, that was about as much as I knew. She was also going to be my math teacher, my sewing teacher, she was even going to teach me biology. Where was she? I walked up to a bunch of Socs and asked them, "Do any of you know where Mrs. Kimball's homeroom row is? I'd be very appreciative if you knew where to find her."

But one of those guys told me to fuck off, and he and his friends sniggered. Why were they all being like this? I couldn't understand. If this was the way high school everywhere is, then no wonder so many teenagers turn to drugs. I was about to run to the girls' bathroom and cry like there was no tommorow, when all of a sudden...

I knocked into someone else and all of my new notebooks fell to the ground. I fell down, too, come to think about it, and those horrible Socs sniggered. I was sure I wanted to die right there, let the end come whenever. "You know, you have got to learn to be more careful." I looked up and it was Ponyboy. He helped me with all of my notebooks, though. "Thank you, Ponyboy." I told him. "By the way, do you know where to find Mrs. Kimball?"

"Well, yes. I'm in her homeroom class, too. She's at row B at the far right." I thanked Ponyboy again. I could hear one of the Socs say, "Greaser! The Lightstone girl knows she's too good for you 'cause you're garbage!" How dare they make out to my shyness to be plain snobbishness? Mr Harper, their homeroom teacher, wasn't putting up with that nonsense. "Mr. Randolphsen, you have already earned yourself a detention and the first day of the school year has barely begun. Quiet down or you'll spend a week in detentions." I hated those Socs. I still felt quite humiliated and wished I could just shrink to the floor. But no such luxury could be afforded.

Principal Alfred Garrens had appeared on the stage in front of the microphone. "Welcome back, students of West Brentman High who are Sophomores, Juniors, or Seniors preparing for graduation. Mr. Keith Matthews, PIPE DOWN!" This in the direction of Two-Bit, who clapped once and yelled, "Yeah, Satan!" The Principal continued. "And an open-armed welcome to all the fresh, new faces of the Freshmen beginning their High School career in this academy of excellence."

"Twisted Boxers!" another greaser had the nerve to yell. His name was Snake Wesley and he had dark red hair which he kept very slickly greased. His real name was Bill Wesley, but everyone called him Snake in his gang. Snake could be mean, but mostly, he stood by his friends and would have broken his fingers and lied through his teeth for them.

Snake was a tough guy, and lived in another broken home. His mother was always bringing one man or another home, and they were all what my own mom would have called "Children instead of men," and she would have insisted Mrs. Wesley get a grip on herself had she still been alive to meet her. She might also have told me to stay away from Snake as a precaution. Snake also had a younger sister named Lily, but I don't write much about her. I don't even know what became of Snake's real father, just he ran off one night when his mother yelled at him to get out. She was pregnant with Lily at the time.

"Detention after school, Mr. Wesley." The Principal said. "All please stand for the pledge of Alliegience and our National Anthem." Two-Bit had his own special tribute for the National Anthem and ended up in detention with Snake for it. As we all sat down, we each got our timetables handed to us. Mine looked something like this:

Student Name: Tania Abigail Lightstone Grade: 9

Gender: F Homeroom Teacher: Rhonda Kimball

Weekday Schedule:

Per. 1: Math (Algebra level 1) 204 Rhonda Kimball

Per. 2: Music 114 Eugene Greshner

Per. 3: Sewing 116 Rhonda Kimball

Per. 4: Gym Gymnasium Coach Douglas Windthrop

Lunch break

Per. 5: Biology 240 Rhonda Kimball

Per. 6: History 205 Eleanor Milton

Per. 7: English 215 Anthony Syme

Per. 8: Health and Safety 110 Coach Douglas Windthrop

A/N: End of Chapter One.