A/N: Okay, so here's my Steve story. I don't know how good it is--I've never written anything through Steve's point of view, but I wanted to try and this is what I got. Urgh, hope you like. Review please!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders.
His eyes burned angrily into mine. I refused to drop my gaze. Those three little words were coming again. I knew it. I braced myself, repeating over and over again that I didn't care.
"I hate you!" he hollered. Tell me something I don't know, I thought bitterly, staring at him and trying my best to look as if he didn't mean anything to me. He didn't stop there, though. I hadn't really expected him to. "You ain't nothing but a piece of shit. You ain't gonna amount to nothing! I don't never wanna see you again! Get out! Just get the hell out!"
"Fine," I said, trying to sound nonchalant, as if he didn't bother me one bit. I turned, and sauntered out the door, pushing the lump in my throat down. It was hard to pretend it didn't hurt, going through each day as if I didn't care, showing the world that tough cover--up. And it was getting harder. I mean, it's one thing for some guy at school to say he hates you and that you're nothing. It's something completely different when it's your father.
I had learned a long time ago that my dad didn't like me. I don't know why and I don't understand it, but that's just the way it is. It's not gonna change. I also stopped feeling sorry for myself a long time ago. I had figured out that no one really cares, that you're on your own in this world. All you can do is go about your own way and if the world hates you, screw them. Just screw them.
The weather outside was that of a typical winter day in Tulsa. The sun was shining brightly, but it was chilly. The wind whipped through my hair, designed to my perfection with gel in curls that can only be described as "complicated." I never took myself to be much of a looker--that's my best friend, Sodapop Curtis. I have other things going for me though. Brains, mechanical abilities, friends, ect.
Friends. God, I don't know what I'd do without the gang, especially Soda. First of all, I'd probably be sleeping on a park bench or something instead of on the Curtis' couch. Sometimes I think it's Soda that keeps me sane. I mean, his life isn't much better than mine. His parents, two amazing people, were killed in a car crash a few months back. Now, Darry, his older brother takes care of him and Ponyboy, his kid brother. Emphasis on the "kid" part. Ponyboy's only fourteen, compared to my seventeen and Soda's sixteen--almost seventeen--years, and I swear he tags along all the time, unless Soda and I have Evie or Sandy, Soda's girl, with us. He's probably the spaciest person and the world. He just doesn't think and I swear it could drive a guy to insanity.
It's funny, though. It's like Ponyboy and I are in a battle over Sodapop. I mean, why else would he tag along all the time? He wants to be with his brother, and I want to be with my best friend. One of the few times Soda and I are ever alone are at work--and how alone can ya get at a gas station? It's not like I ask for a lot, but I do sometimes wish the limited time I have with Soda wasn't ruined by his kid brother. Jeez, now I sound like I'm in love with Soda or somethin'. Well, I'm not. It's just...sometimes your best friend is like a brother. And Soda's one of the few good things in my life.
Then there's the rest of the gang, Two-Bit, Dally, and Johnny. Two-Bit the jokester, Dally the cold, hard hood, and Johnny the beat-up pet of our gang. I guess I shouldn't complain about my life. At least I don't get beat up by my old man, like Johnny. Not to mention, Johnny's really jumpy now, thanks to some Socs, the West Side rich kids. They jumped him several months ago and scared the poor kid half to death. He just hasn't been the same since.
Anyway, I was headed to the DX, the gas station where I work part-time. Soda works full time there, since he dropped out of school, but he was off this morning, so I was on my own. I don't normally work te counter or the pumps. Usually, I'm the mechanic. Thankfully, it wasn't too busy this day. I was on duty all day that day, except for a small lunch break. Soda was supposed to come in the afternoon, so I was surprised when I walked in after a quick bite to eat and he wasn't there.
My boss, Mr. Harrison, poked his head out of his office. "Damn," he said, "I was hoping you were Curtis."
"He ain't here?" I asked, surprised. That wasn't like Soda. Sure, he was late occasionally, but usually only five, ten on bad days. Fifteen to twenty minutes was not like him.
Mr. H shook his head. "If he ain't with you, he ain't here yet. Shit. Ah well, good thing it's slow today."
I nodded in agreement, my mind drifting to Soda. Where was he? When he hadn't show up by two, I started to worry. By the time we were closing, he still hadn't shown, and my mind was whirling. Where the hell was he? I started towards the Curtis house. My feet were moving quickly because I was a lone Greaser. I wasn't about to get jumped by some Socs. I guess I was also a bit jumpy 'cause Pony just got jumped yesterday.
I flung open the door to the Curtis' house. "Hey!" I shouted, kicking off my shoes in the doorway. "Soda, you here?"
I stopped dead in the front room. Soda was sitting on the couch, gazing blankly at the TV, which was off, and fiddling with his hands. "Soda, you okay?"
He looked up at me, as if in a daze. "Ponyboy's gone," he said softly. "He's gone."
A/N: Well, there it is. Hope it didn't suck too bad. / Anyway, sorry it's so short, but I was planning on ending it right there. Thought it'd make it all nice and dramatic...don't know if I did it right though. Ah, anyway, REVIEW!!