A/N I'm back!

Steve Randle. My brothers best friend, my enemy.

I didn't want to hate Steve. I didn't want him to hate me. But Steve makes it too hard for me not to hate him. He's always calling me a tagalong kid. He's always raging on me. It's not fair, I didn't do anything to him. Not to begin with anyway. Now I'm considering it.

What? He started it. I'm just finishing it. I'm going to tell Soda soon. Then Soda will know what an ass his best friend is. Steve tells me to never be a tattletale, but what does he know? Other than how to be bitter?

I'm a pretty quiet person, but just because I'm quiet doesn't mean I can't give good insults or death stares. I give the best death stares in the neighborhood. Not that I use them too often.

The bottom line is that Steve is a jerk, and it's got to stop. I don't want to live like this.

…

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon. The slight breeze rustled through the leaves, make them move ever so slightly.

Ponyboy was sitting in his room, his cheeks flushed with the heat. He was sitting with his homework, writing an English essay. He wrote the last line, then pushed the paper away from him and sighed.

Soda took that exact moment to come bursting in.

"Hey Pony, you want to go to the movies?"

Steve's shadow came looming behind Soda in a menacing way. Pony looked at Steve's face behind Soda's, where the teenager was gesturing rudely that if he said yes, it was not going to be fun for him.

So Ponyboy did the smart thing.

"No thanks Soda." He said, gesturing to one of his many books.

"I think I'm just going to stay here, and read Gone With The Wind."

Soda smirked and cocked his head.

"Haven't you read that book a million times by now?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah," Ponyboy admitted, "but it's my favorite."

Steve rolled his eyes. The kids a nerd.

Then, seeing the conversation was about to end, he slipped back down the hall, knowing that it was just going to be him and his friend going to the movie house.

Soda shrugged and left.

Ponyboy sighed internally. This was stupid. He couldn't hang out with his brother because Steve would kill him if he did. That's what Ponyboy hated. Not getting a choice. It was almost like Steve was picking his life choices for him. And in a way, he was.

"I hate Steve" he growled quietly.

…

When Soda and Steve came back, I was reading on the couch. There hadn't been much to do, and I had been reading all day. But I was almost finished, and to me that meant a day well spent.

"Hey Ponyboy!" Soda grinned.

"Hey Soda," I responded

From behind Soda, Steve was giving me a hard glare.

What did I do now?

I resumed talking to Soda.

"What did you watch at the movies?"

Soda smiled wider. "We watched a teen beach movie."

Uhhh. I hate teen beach movies.

"Great," I lied.

"Sounds interesting."

I turned back to my book.

Soda left to go take a shower, but Steve remained. I could feel his stare. I looked up from my book, annoyed.

"What Steve?"

"Can't you ever stop annoying me?" he asked, scowling.

I was confused.

"What?"

"He never stopped talking about you," he said.

"It was all "Ponyboy's grades", and "Ponyboy's toughness."

"And that's my fault because….?" I asked, bewildered.

Secretly, I was thrilled about how high Soda thought of me.

"YOU'RE ALWAYS IN THE WAY!" Steve screamed.

I flinched, hoping the loud shower drowned out the noise of Steve screaming from Soda.

I was getting mad.

"How is that my fault?" I demanded, glaring.

"Just, keep out of our way," said Steve.

I was about to respond, about to say it wasn't my fault that Soda offered to take me places, not my fault that Soda talked about me, but Soda came out of the shower.

Steve sent me a threating look, and I returned to my book.

Oh, how I hate him.