EPIPHANY.

It had been one of my English vocabulary words a few weeks prior. I remembered looking it up in my brother Ponyboy's dictionary. I probably could have just asked him what it meant, he had been in the same English class the year before, but I hate it when he makes me feel stupid for not knowing something when he does.

epiphany n., from Late Latin epiphania, from Late Greek, plural, probably alteration of Greek epiphaneia appearance, manifestation, from epiphainein to manifest.

There was some definition that had something to do with a Christian holiday, but I was pretty sure that wasn't what Mrs. Richards, my English teacher, was looking for. I scanned down further and found a few meanings that looked reasonable for an English Literature class, and copied them down onto my homework.

epiphany: a usually sudden manifestation or perception of the essential nature or meaning of something (2): an intuitive grasp of reality through something (as an event) usually simple and striking (3): an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure b: a revealing scene or moment.

It turned out that the answer on our vocabulary quiz was a bit simpler.

epiphany = a life-changing moment or experience. I got it right on the quiz, but I don't think that I truly understood at the time what people meant when they said they had a "life-changing moment." Being a pretty decent reader for my age, I was fascinated by the epiphanies (now that I know the word I might as well use it…) the characters in the books I read were always having. Something big would happen, and suddenly their lives would change. In an instant the reality of their situation would come into focus, and, in a split second, they had come of age. I guess I liked reading those kinds of books so much because my own life seemed so uneventful. Boring, even. Sure, like every other kid I had my ups and downs, but for the most part, life just went on as usual for me and my family. I have three older brothers and I guess you could say I was living a pretty sheltered life, for a kid growing up on the streets of South Tulsa, anyway. Ours was a tough neighborhood but our house had always seemed a bubble, a safe haven from the rest of the world. It wasn't much, but it was comfortable, and, to me, it felt safe.

I mention those life-changing moments because I think I had started to kind of wish that I would have one. On the brink of becoming a teenager, I guess I felt it was about time that I started being able to look at the world with a new perspective, an added dimension - Just a little something to nudge my life over that line from ordinary to interesting.

The old adage "be careful what you wish for" never rang so true to me as just a few weeks later, when my wish came suddenly, horribly true, and my life truly did turn upside-down in just a moment. I'm not sure what I had had in mind for my own epiphany, but it sure wasn't what I actually got.

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It was a Thursday night, October second, my twelfth birthday. Coincidentally, it was also the weekend of my parents' twentieth anniversary. We were having a special birthday dinner for me, and my parents had plans to go out later in the evening for a movie. On their actual anniversary, Friday, my oldest brother Darry had a football game. They never missed one of Darry's games. He was a freshman wide receiver at the University of Tulsa, just as Dad had been in his day. Darry's games felt like our games, and the whole family was expected to turn out to cheer him on, along with most of my brothers' friends who were usually hanging around with our family anyway.

My family was far from being Darry's only devoted fans - he had quite a following of girls who came out to the game cheering him on and hoping he would ask them out afterward. I never really saw him as handsome but I guess the college girls sure did. But as much of a jock and a popular kid as he was, Darry was actually a big homebody; generally all he wanted to do after his games was come home and talk with Dad and my brother Soda about what had happened during the game.

As for me and football games, I liked wandering around the crowd with all the other players' younger siblings, watching the cheerleaders. I appreciated the attention I sometimes got at the games for being Darry's little sister, but, honestly, I didn't get much of what happened out on the field. Football was pretty much a mystery to me. Real football, anyway, not the unruly games of tackle I watched my brothers and their friends play in our back yard. At the college games (and Darry's countless high school games I had attended), all I saw was a bunch of tough guys fighting each other in fancy equipment. Just a more dignified version of the gang fighting that went on in our neighborhood, it seemed to me. I watched Darry mostly, and I knew his job was to catch the ball and run with it for a touchdown, but that was the extent of my football expertise. For all I knew, my biggest brother was cool, and that made me feel cool by association. Darry and I were buddies, in as much way possible for a nineteen year old and his then eleven year-old kid sister…

I was kind of a shy kid, and was always a little embarrassed with the focus being on me. Once my family took me to a restaurant and they sang "Happy Birthday" and I nearly died of embarrassment. Even at home it felt weird to be the center of attention at dinner. But I loved ice cream cake, and so once a year I sucked up the attention during the whole "Happy Birthday" business in order to get the cake. Seriously, I could down that whole ice cream cake myself, given the chance. My cake of choice was vanilla, with chocolate cookie crumbles (which I, in my earlier years, had referred to as "ants") in the middle – and blue gel icing, which always read "Happy Birthday, Samantha!" My name is Samantha Scout Curtis, though nearly everyone calls me Scout. Mom was always the one who got the cake, hence the Samantha.

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That birthday was one of the most amazing days of my life. If I could choose a day to live in forever, I very well might pick that one. Maybe it is just because it is what I consider the last day of my "normal" life that I remember every detail of the day, but I can play it minute by minute like a movie in my mind even now.

Dad woke me up, which was a great start to the day, considering my normal school-day wake-up call was one of three teenaged brothers jumping on me from out of nowhere and torturing me into consciousness. Then Dad gave me a special gift, because he said twelve was a special birthday. It was a silver chain necklace with a starfish charm on it. It really meant a lot to me because it had a memory attached to it.

The past summer our family had gone to the beach in Texas for two weeks, to visit my Mom's brother's family. One day while Dad and I were alone walking on the beach we found a starfish. We sat down to look at it, and he told me a story about once when he and my mom were on their honeymoon. They were at the beach and they saw a starfish and they decided since it was the first star they had seen that day that they should make a wish. When I asked him what he had wished for, he looked at me, pulled me in toward him, and said "You, kiddo. I wished for you and your crazy brothers." He could be kind of sappy sometimes, for a big tough guy. We both made a wish on the new starfish, but I don't know what he wished for, because everybody knows if you don't keep your wish a secret, it won't come true.

What surprised me even more was that when I showed the necklace to Mom later that day, she seemed surprised, like she hadn't known about it. I always felt like Mom and Dad talked about everything. It made me feel like Dad had kept a secret from her just so he could have one with me. It felt special. I don't know – maybe she did know… I never got to ask. But every time I think about that starfish I feel like it is something just between my Dad and me.

I went to school as usual that day – school for me was no big deal. I liked seeing my friends, the social aspect of it -and luckily the work never seemed hard, but honestly, I would have rather been doing other things. It's a good thing the work was easy, because with the amount of daydreaming and doodling in notebooks I do in school, if I actually needed to pay attention, I would be flunking out. As it was I got mostly A's and the occasional B… not so much for poor academics as lack of effort. Sometimes I just felt like I couldn't be bothered. Actually, all of us kids made good grades except for my middle brother Soda, but Soda was just Soda and school wasn't his thing. He could barely sit still in his seat, much less focus and pay attention. In Soda's world, there was just too much else going on in his mind to put much of his boundless energy into school.

After school, my neighbor Ben's older brother gave Ben and me a ride home, which was great since I hate riding the bus and I'm not allowed to walk home unless one of my brothers is with me, and both of them had other plans for after school. Ben is three months older than me and we have been friends since we were babies. His brother Kevin is a year younger than Darry, and they get along okay, but aren't as friendly as Ben and I.

When I got home, Mom and I went food shopping and she made my favorite, her special chicken pot pie for dinner. Darry got home from football practice early and while he and I played catch outside (he was always trying to teach me how to play REAL football but I just liked throwing and catching), my other brothers helped Mom with dinner.

After catch, I hung around the kitchen and watched Soda and my youngest brother Pony make mess after mess of things while poor Mom cleaned up after them. Finally she got tired of it and shooed the boys out the door. She wouldn't let me help cook, since it was my birthday, but she let me sit up on the counter and watch while we talked. We didn't talk about anything important – school, boys, my brothers… but it was nice to have Mom to myself, without Dad or the boys.

Dad was home by then and the boys sat around in the living room while he and Darry talked about the next night's game and what else was happening with the guys on the team. Pony and Soda were playing some sort of card game that they had just invented and each of them was accusing the other of cheating. This was a common problem, as Pony always played by the rules and Soda generally followed what one might call a 'loose interpretation' of said rules. Its funny those two get along so well, being so different.

Eventually we all sat down to dinner and for some reason we were all just in a strange mood. By the time dinner and cake was finished, we were all laughing and good-naturedly picking on each other, even Ponyboy, who is usually pretty reserved. At one point he made a joke and seemed shocked even with himself. We all stared at him and he turned beet red, which only made us all laugh more. I guess I am usually pretty quiet too, but there was just something that night that made all of us so comfortable and uninhibited.

In our neighborhood, this kind of family bonding was rare: most families had only one parent or if there were two parents they were never home anyway. Making ends meet was tough for everyone and in most families with two parents they both worked, but in our own family, Dad's income was going to have to be enough. He and Mom had jointly made a decision that she would stay home with us kids. I guess I never really realized how much that meant until later.

Thinking back to that night, it is also so weird that it was only our family at home. It was extraordinarily rare for there not to be at least one other person at our house at any given time besides our family. Usually it was either Soda's friend Steve or Pony's friend Johnny, but pretty much everyone on our side of town knew about my Mom and Dad's so-called "open door policy" and you just never knew who might show up. Sometimes we didn't even know the person 'til they appeared at the door, mentioning a name of a friend who had suggested our house as a place to find food, a couch, or just a listening ear. They were always welcomed and our Mom set a place for them at the table or brought out blankets for them to sleep on the couch.

I like most of the guys who hang around with my brothers, but I am so glad that night was just us. It almost feels like it was a gift for just Darry, Soda, Pony, and me. It was my first and only birthday that I remember with just my family. I don't even know where everyone else was that night, and I never thought to ask. I bet they would remember too, because I think all of their lives changed that night almost as much as ours did.

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Oh, man, how I can beat around the bush… In that way, I am so much like Pony. He just turned 14. His full name is Ponyboy. He can never just get to the point. My Dad was a creative guy when it came to naming his kids. Soda's whole name is Sodapop, though I never call him that. Dad wanted to name me Scout, and my mom wanted to name me after her dad, Samuel. I turned out to be a girl so I became Samantha Scout…a compromise.

I guess my Dad really won out in the end though, since nobody but my Mom ever called me anything but Scout, except in school, where they insist that legally I have to be called Samantha. Still, even there, only adults who don't know me call me Samantha. The people who do know me never call me Samantha unless I am in trouble. If I hear someone call the name Samantha in a normal tone of voice, I rarely realize they are talking to me.

Of my brothers, I get along best with Soda. He is sixteen and the most compassionate, caring, carefree person that I have ever met. Not to mention handsome. Darry and Pony are good looking but Soda is the one people stop to look at. He's my own brother but still, every once in a while, I am caught off- guard by how beautiful he is, not only physically, but with a personality to match. He just makes everyone around him smile, without even trying. Soda is like a movie star and a politician combined, but living a greaser's life, and totally satisfied with that. I trust him more than anyone that I know because I know he would never judge anyone in his world without giving them a fair shot at becoming his best friend. Soda loves everyone until they somehow give him reason not to (which usually is by hurting his family or friends since no one ever had any reason to hurt him; he is just too loveable.)

Back to my birthday… cake was finished, and presents were opened… the boys sat around the television watching something that was interesting to teenage boys, involving shooting and cars, while Mom and Dad came and sat with me in my room.

"Samantha, did you have a good birthday?"

I hugged my mom. "Perfect. Thanks for the shoes." I was just starting to play basketball on the high school team. I had been wearing a pair of Darry's old (very old, like from when he was 7) basketball shoes and had been dying for new shoes but didn't want to ask. Pretty much nobody in our family asked for anything outright from our parents – money was tight for everyone on the South side, but with four kids and one paycheck, even us kids understood about priorities.

I should have been in seventh grade but I had been promoted a grade early so I was in eighth grade. Me being in eighth grade meant I would have been in the same grade as Ponyboy, who, despite our two-year age difference, had been only a year ahead of me. He had missed some school as a young kid when he got really sick with some virus they couldn't identify and missed a lot of school. Luckily he had been put up a grade too, also due to his academics, so he was a freshman in high school. We didn't usually get along that well, so I was glad we weren't in the same grade.

Girls' basketball was a new sport in the high school, and in an effort to field a bigger team, they had decided to let the eighth graders play, as well. I guess growing up with a bunch of overly competitive boys had worked out for me, because it turned out that not only could I run fast, I could maneuver well too. Being only in eighth grade (and young at that) I had made starting guard on the high school team. Mom and Dad worried at first since I was a lot smaller than the other girls, and younger, but so far I was holding my own. And so far I was the top scorer on the team, much to Dad's delight.

"I knew I had another athlete in the family." Dad seemed really proud. Soda wasn't much into sports and Pony was not sure whether he wanted to be a runner or a smoker. The latter was preventing him from reaching his full ability in sports, though even as a smoker he was pretty good. Yet Darry and I were the real athletes in the family. I liked feeling like I was making my Dad proud. I was lucky to be able to play, only a year prior the high school had begun offering girls' basketball as a sport. It was starting to catch on in such a basketball-crazy state as Oklahoma.

"I'll be your basketball star," I promised my dad.

"I know, baby," said Dad. "I know you will." He stood up. "Love you, Scout. Be good for Darry tonight." He kissed me on top of my head.

I laughed. I was never trouble for Darry. Or for anyone else, for that matter. I'm pretty easygoing – starting trouble is not really my style. There are generally enough people around me causing trouble that that I usually get my share without even trying. My brothers were endlessly dragging me into their mischief, and being younger I usually followed along pretty willingly.

"Well, it's my job to say that! Maybe I should tell the boys not to give YOU any trouble?" He winked at me. He was not entirely kidding.

"Probably," I agreed. Mom laughed. Good night, Samantha, " she said, as she turned and walked into the living room to break up another argument between Soda and Ponyboy.

With that Dad tucked me into bed. "Happy Birthday, kiddo." Dad said, as he turned to leave.

"Good night," I said, as Dad walked out of my room and shut out the lights. "Happy Anniversary. Have fun." They deserved a night out to see a movie – honestly I couldn't remember the last time they had a night out together without at least one of us kids. I made a mental note to talk to my brothers about making them go out more often, without us. Who knows, maybe we'd send them out on a hot date, spark some romance and get another little brother or sister out of it! Lord knows, I mused, it might be nice to not have to be the baby anymore. (File under wishful thinking for a twelve-year old with parents turning the corner on forty.)

I was thinking about that when I fell asleep, smiling.

A little later I felt Darry come in and check on me. I was just barely awake as I felt him tuck in the sheets around me and pull the window down… it WAS getting cold.

"Dar…" I mumbled.

"Hey, birthday girl… Go to sleep!" He said

"Thanks… I was cold but I didn't know it yet," I said. At the time, that comment made perfect sense to me. Darry seemed to find it amusing, though, and laughed softly.

"Sleep tight Scout."

"'kay. 'Night." I turned and snuggled into my pillow. Man, it was cold! Definitely uncharacteristically chilly for October in Oklahoma.

"'Night." He shut the door behind him.

A/N: Thanks for reading my first chapter. Trying to fit in all the background was tricky, so I apologize if the organization of the chapter was a little off. Things stay in order a little more neatly from here on in. I hope you will stick with me.

Also, I know there is another Scout Curtis on fanfiction. I actually started writing my Scout before I read any of Erinskie's stories, and after I did come upon her (excellent) work I emailed her, she read some of what I had written, and she very graciously did not object to my Scout story being published also. I hope that you will keep reading my story and I assure you, you will see that our visions for the character are quite different. I appreciate kind, constructive reviews. Clearly I do not own any of the characters that already existed in the book, and I thank S.E. Hinton profusely for introducing such rich characters to expand upon. Happy reading!