I posted this before but I changed it a bit because I wasn't fully in love with it, so this may seem familiar to some of you! Tell me what you think! Song: Self Esteem, The Offspring.

Well I guess I should stick up for myself, but I really think it's better this way;
The more you suffer, the more it shows you really care

CHAPTER ONE

It was a terrible mess and he had no idea how he was going to fork up enough cash to fix all the damages. His headlights were smashed, the sides were dented, and on the driver's side there was a jagged line running through both doors; no doubt coming from someone's key. Normally, under any other circumstances, Steve would go find out who did this and beat the shit out of them. That was under normal circumstances; Steve knew who did this and there was no way in hell that he was even laying a hand on them.

Steve had been sitting in the Dingo, chatting with Tim Shepard as he waited for Soda to get there. It was a regular afternoon – he had the day off and he was at the diner for a coke and probably a burger.

Mark Jennings burst into the Dingo, laughing to kill himself. He walked over to Tim and Steve. "Randle, your girl is beatin' your ride to a pulp."

Steve had been confused, but sure enough, when he glanced out of the diners windows he caught Evie in the middle of smashing in his headlights with a baseball bat. He had parked a couple rows back but he could still see, clear as day, the awful damages to his car.

He jumped out of his seat and ran to her. She saw him, but remained unfazed. She hit the thin metal on his car over and over, blow after blow until he reached her. He grabbed the weapon and threw it, far enough away that she couldn't grab it. Evie huffed and let her eyes roll. He was raging mad; his hands were shaking. But he wouldn't yell at her or touch her. All he did was glare.

Evie didn't say anything either. She gave him a blank look and walked over to the bat and hopped into a car, not parked a foot away from Steve's. The driver was Sylvia. Sylvia smirked as she peered at him over her dark sunglasses. She slid them back on and drove away.

Now, Steve stood over his destroyed vehicle wondering how he could possibility fix this (he could fix it himself, but had no money for parts) and why the in the name of god Evie had the urge to do this. He knew she was mad at him, but he figured she'd be over that by now and back in his arms. After all, since he didn't even do what she had accused him of. Evie's friend Lorie had told her Steve had come on to her at a party two weeks before. That never happened and never would – Lorie was easy on the eyes but she was dumb and she always slumming around. He liked a girl that could put out, but for him, not the whole damn city. What really happened was Lorie had come onto him and he had told her where to go. He guessed Lorie Reynolds didn't take rejection well because the next thing he knew Evie was on his doorstep dumping him because of some story Lorie told her. It was bullshit.

"Man, that's bad." Soda had shown up the minute Evie left. "How're ya gonna get the parts?"

From Soda's tone, Steve knew what he was implying. "I ain't gonna steal 'em, Soda. I don't want the police arrestin' me again anytime soon."

"Yeah, you just got out." Steve nodded. He wasn't angry anymore, but that was probably because Evie and her goddamn baseball bat were gone. He was frustrated now, though.

"I'm gonna head home. I think I need a nap or somethin', anything to not think of wringing the girl's pretty little neck." Soda laughed, they both knew Steve would never touch a hair on that girls head. Even after this huge unnecessary burden she put on him, he'd probably still take her back if she wanted. Not right away – he would have to play it tough – he would say he didn't know, ignore her for a couple days, and then run back to her.

"You still goin' to the Drive-In with me? If not, I can just tell our dates you got mono or somethin'."

Steve chuckled and shook his head. "No, I'll go. But I guess you're gonna have to pick me up."

"No problem," Sodapop smiled. "See ya."

"See ya."

Steve started up his car. If you never knew what the exterior looked like, this car would have been perfect. The engine purred pleasantly, his ride had never made a sickly sound and everything worked smoothly. But he did know what the exterior looked like and he made him want to throw up.

He pulled into his driveway and it was odd to see his old man's already there on a Friday afternoon.

"Steve, is that you?" He heard his father's rough voice. His old man was from New York and he had a real rough accent. It matched him, Steve had always thought. His father was rough, angry, and uncaring. That's what Steve pictured New York to be like.

"Yeah, dad. It's me."

His father's clothes were wrinkled, his hair was unkempt and greasy, and his eyes were glazed. He was about ten feet away from Steve, so he could not smell booze yet, but Steve knew if he got any closer he would. It was four the afternoon and his dad was drunk already.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" Steve questioned. His old man was unreliable but he hardly – if ever – skipped work. He couldn't buy beer or whiskey without a paycheck.

"I got fired today. I can't come to work after half a bottle of whiskey, apparently."

No shit, Steve wanted to say, but he said nothing. His hands shook and he looked away from his father and stared at the rug, waiting for him to talk again. He never greeted him at the door, so it was obvious he had something to say or wanted something from him, or even better – wanted to give him a nice beating. He had lost his job, so all three of them were possibilities.

"You got any money?" He was closer now, and just like Steve had predicted, he could smell alcohol. "I don't have any whiskey left and I don't have a cent to buy any."

His old man laughed as if what he said was funny. Steve didn't find it a bit funny; it pissed him off. His car was a wreck, he needed all the money he had, and he definitely didn't need to be handing it to his already drunk father so he could get even drunker. Despite needing all his money to himself, he handed his dad some cash anyways. He would just work a lot of overtime at the DX.

"Appreciate it." His father said before leaving. He had said it but he didn't mean it, he didn't appreciate anything. When he came back he might kick Steve out of the house for the millionth time, nobody knew. His old man was an asshole; an unpredictable asshole.

Steve went down the hall to his room and flung himself on the bed, just like he told Soda he would.

After a two hours nap, Steve got up showered and got ready for the date. This date was originally planned to make Evie mad and jealous and run back to him. Now, it was just to make her mad since she seemed all too against getting back with him, or at least that's the hint he took from her day's activities. With Evie, he could be completely wrong, he never knew how she was going to act. She was a sweet girl, but she wanted to make it known that she was independent. She was very good at that, and bitching.

Sodapop seemed to be hitting it off with his date, Sandy Brown. She was blonde, blue-eyed and slim. She reminded Steve of every girl Soda went out with and he was pretty sure that Soda was doing that on purpose, subconsciously or not. All his dates were like that, and Steve thought about knocking some sense into him to stop playing around and just settle down. But that was Steve, he always stuck to one person. Soda was his only real friend and Evie was his only girl, and he was satisfied with that, what else did he need?

Steve's own date was a bore. She had black hair and black eyes, her name was Mildred Yates and even that was boring. "Friends call me Millie" she had told him as soon as the date started. He refused to call her that, it sounded dumb as hell and he told her so. He inferred that upset her since she hardly said a word after, just stared at the movie. He might just have assumed she was interested in the movie but he didn't even see that as a possibility. It was one of those silent ones and if she really was just enjoying the movie, this would be their last date. He'd be damned before he went out with someone who liked silent films. It was hard enough to sit down to a regular movie, but when there was no sound, Steve saw no point. He'd been lucky with Evie, she hardly liked movies either. Most broads dragged their man out to one every week.

Mildred leaned her head on Steve's shoulder, and stared at the movie. So his assumption was incorrect – she wasn't upset with him, she did like these stupid movies. How much more boring could one chick get?

"I gotta go to the bathroom." He announced and shook Mildred off his shoulder. He shuffled out of the booth and made a beeline for the concession stand. He would probably stay there for the rest of the date, at least there was some action in there.

As usual, the concession stand was packed. People were yelling, pushing, shoving, and starting fights over popcorn and cola. If Mildred could read his thoughts, she would have been mighty offended he chose this over her.

Steve shoved and elbowed his way through the crowd, not paying attention to his surroundings. He should have been because seconds later there was a dampness on his shirt and popcorn in his hair.

"I'm so sorry," said a petite girl. She had a crushed drink cup in her hand and a bag of popcorn, missing over half the bag. "I wasn't looking! I didn't mean to, really –"

"It's okay." He said.

"No, I really am sor- oh, well then." She stopped herself short and smiled. "Should I pay for the dry cleaning?"

"No. I'm fine."

The girl had light, caramel brown hair, long bangs and big green eyes to match his own. She was pretty, a lot prettier than his date but she had split coke all over him, which had just added to his bad day, so he didn't see him even trying to flirt with her. She also wasn't the usual type he went for, she was nicer - even from the start, and she was more modest. There was the lack of blue eyeshadow and a mini skirt that all the girls he seemed to take a liking to had.

"I'm Robin Merril." She told him, he didn't understand why she would introduce herself, maybe that was the polite thing to do, but he had never been one for manners.

Her name was familiar, he had probably seen her around before but she also shared the last name with Buck Merril - he wondered if there was a relation but didn't ask.

"Steve Randle."

A blonde girl came up and linked her arm with Robin, it was obvious the blonde was distressed but Steve didn't acknowledge it, he didn't know her, so he didn't have to care. The blonde was the type of girl Steve went after. She was clad in tight jeans and a tight blouse to match but he found Robin much prettier. Robin was tiny and soft and proper looking, but she wasn't his kind.

"Sorry, I took so long." the blonde apologized. "Where are the other girls?"

"Goodbye, Steve." said Robin. He nodded and she left.

She had been awfully nice and he knew it was because he didn't look greasy right now. Girls like that wanted nothing more to get out of this side even if it took laying with a social guy to do it. He hadn't re-greased his hair after his shower, he hadn't had time. He was also on a date which meant he had done himself up more than usual. He had ditched the leather jacket and blue jeans for nicer slacks and a clean shirt. Nothing about him right now was screaming "greaser". He wished he did have his leather jacket right now though, to cover up the wet, brown, coke stain on his shirt. Now he had no other choice, he had to go back to Sodapop and Mildred.

Soda and Sandy were cuddled up in the front seat but Soda was getting restless as usual. His feet were tapping and his hands were flicking the wheel. He never could sit still long. Mildred was slumped in the back seat with a frown on her face; she might not have been upset before but she sure was now. Her face pinched up when she saw him and she slumped further into the seat.

Soda looked up at him and grinned. "How'd you manage that?" He pointed to the cola splatter on his shirt.

"Some dumb broad wasn't lookin' where she was goin'." He said gruffly, forgetting the part where he wasn't looking either.

Soda laughed. "You need a ride home? I doubt you wanna stay in that."

Steve shook his head. Soda and Sandy sure looked comfortable and he wouldn't want to interrupt that.

"Nah, I'll walk." He smirked at Mildred. "You wanna come with me?"

It was a joke, he knew there was no way she would ever come with him but asking her sure got her riled up. She looked at him with eyes that read 'are you an idiot?' and her face was scrunched up in anger. She hardly had anything to be angry about, she was a funny broad.

"No," Her voice was low. "I don't want to come with you."

Steve chuckled. "Suit yourself."

Steve left them. He had to pass the concession stand again and when he was walking past the unused building, above the washrooms he saw Two-Bit come down the staircase which was the exact place the blonde had come from not even five minutes earlier. Two-Bit was fixing his hair and straightening his clothes. He had to laugh – no wonder she looked so flustered. He wonder if that Robin chick had known where her friend had really been, he doubted it.

His house was only about fifteen minutes from the Nightly Double walking, only like a two minute drive. He wished he could drive home, but with no headlights it would just get pulled over. Evie could be a real bitch sometimes.

Thinking of Evie, she hadn't been at the Drive-In that night so his plan to make her mad didn't even work, but it would probably get around to her by word of mouth. That wasn't as satisfying.

"Hey, Steve," it was the same chick from the Drive-In. "Do you want a ride?"

He had hardly made his way out of the Nightly Doubles gates when she called out to him. It was a long walk home from where he stood. He wasn't about to pass up the girls offer, she had split Coke on his shirt, it was the least she could do to drive him home.

He expected the passenger seat to be taken but the blond who left with Robin was sprawled out in the back; he hopped into the front seat. The blonde seemed familiar to him, but he couldn't place it. Maybe he had seen her sneaking around with Keith before, prior to tonight.

"That's Kathy, by the way," Robin told him. "Kathy Briggs."

"I can introduce myself, you know." Kathy said and Steve could see her grinning through the mirror.

Her name clicked: baby sister of Don Briggs. Tough guy, everyone knew him on this side of town. Steve had only met him when he was with Tim Shepard, Don was part of his outfit.

"Who are you?" Kathy asked. "If you don't mind me asking."

Steve repeated his name, it felt like he was saying it a lot tonight.

Robin ended up dropping off Kathy first, up on the Ribbon. She had said she needed to get there fast so Robin agreed that she would go there first, though it was in the opposite direction of his place. He guessed she didn't care and he wasn't going to complain since she had offered him a ride. He wondered if maybe Kathy was meeting up with Two-Bit once again but he didn't ask. It wasn't his business.

Kathy got out and mumbled a thank you.

"Whats your address again?" Robin asked as she pulled off the Ribbon. He told her.

It turned out Robin was more than just a broad with a pretty ride, she could keep up with him when he talked about what engine it had and all his 'grease monkey' facts, meaning she knew about cars. She also enjoyed herself some Elvis and let him play some on her Eight Track. When they were in front of his house, she didn't even screw up her face, it was in worst shape than most, even on this neighborhood. His old man didn't enough to clean her up. Robin didn't even seem to acknowledge it.

"What happened to your car?" Was all she said.

Steve was almost too embarrassed to answer. "My girlfriend - we got into a fight and she..."

Robin's eyes widened. "Glory, shes got some arm."

Steve laughed and was glad she didn't comment on the craziness of the situation.

Surprising to him, she handed him a small piece of parchment with her number on it. "Call me sometime," she said before she reversed out of his drive-way.

Mildred had been a boring date but Robin wasn't boring, she was quiet but surprising. A part of him knew he should have thrown the number to the ground, he didn't, he stuffed it into the pocket of his jeans. Maybe he'd call it. It didn't seem as if Evie was going to call him.