Hinton owns The Outsiders. I only own Jeff Vincent.
I want to thank K. Nefertiti and TheNightimeSky for all of their help. Also, another thanks for The North Saint Louis Board for helping and tolerating me.
"Eight-year-old Angela sighed and trudged around the house, looking for something to do. When would Sylvia get back from Texas? It was a warm and sunny afternoon and she wondered who she could spend the day with.
Would Denise be home? Nah, she was at Sharon Pierce's house for a sleepover. Angela stomped to her bedroom and walked over over to her tiny window. She peered across the busy, traffic-filled street for a minute. Getting bored, she rolled her eyes and stared at the rundown dingy houses where pieces of newspaper scattered the neighbors green lawns.
"Why are people so messy?" Angela snapped. She went over to her closet and pulled out her doll with a missing eye and chopped off hair thanks to their game of beauty parlor.
"Let's go play house with Curly." She skipped down the dark hall toward his room, her long, black ringlets bouncing off her back.
Angela stood outside his door and banged on it. "Curly!" she yelled, and jiggled the knob. Where was he? She thought about it, and realized that he was with his new friend, Jeff Vincent. Why did he always hang around him all the time? They really hadn't spent much time together since he moved down the street.
The dolls one blue eye and sweet smile stared back at her. A lump formed in her throat, a sudden pang of lonliness washed over her. Why was it that dolls couldn't talk or hug back? Gretchen was more of a companion than her own family, after all.
Angela walked away from Curly's door, her eyes filled with tears. She wasn't about to let anyone see her cry, not even Tim or Curly.
Angela blinked back her tears. "Will you play with me, Gretchen? We can play tea party by ourselves." She was about to say something else when the door slammed. Angela dropped her doll and dashed away from the door. Curly and Jeff bounded loudly up the stairs, and she groaned at the sight of him. Why was he always over here? Mama never told him to leave because she was always busy fighting with her stepfather, David.
"Beat it, Angela." Jeff's face twisted into an ugly scowl. He shoved Curly's door open. Angela ignored him and walked over to the dresser.
"What can I find in here to show Mom, huh?" Angela gave him a toothy grin. "Do you have any potato chips and lollipops in here?" She rummaged through the top drawer and pulled out a couple of candy bars. Curly glared at her. Mom and David would kill him if they ever discovered those along with the rest of his stash.
"Don't you even think about it or I'll call the Crazy Man!" He grabbed the candy out of her hand and tossed it back into the drawer.
Angela gulped. "Okay, I won't. I promise."
Curly slammed the dresser door shut. "Good, now go bother someone else." He pulled out a pack of Lucky Strikes and lit one up.
Angela placed her hands on her hips. "Okay, but on one condition; you gotta give me a weed." Maybe if she could get one from him, then she could prove it to everyone that just because she was eight, didn't mean she was some stupid ass kid. Many people thought kids were nothing but a bother.
Curly nodded and took a long drag off his smoke. "Why, Angel? So Mom and David can kill me?"
Angela shook her head roughly. "I ain't gonna tell them nothing!" She scowled and ran out of the room and down the hall, where she bumped into twelve-year-old Tim.
"Kid, watch where the fuck you're going," Tim snapped. She scrunched up her face. Why was he so grumpy?
Angela clenched her fists together. "What's your problem?"
"Go find something else to do, I'm busy," Tim said in a strained voice.
"Fine, I'll go see if Betty Ann will play!" Tears sprang to her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Tim just walked into his room and slammed the door behind him. Angela turned and fled downstairs.
Nancy Shepard emerged from the kitchen. "What is going on here?" she demanded.
"Mom, Curly said he's gonna sick the Crazy Man on me!"
Nancy crossed her arms and walked over to her. "Angela Marie, I suggest you kids quit giving your daddy a hard time." She wiped her hands on a dishrag. Angela scowled and kicked the wall.
"David ain't my daddy!" Angela shouted, kicking the wall.
Nancy threw the dishrag on the table. "Go to your room, young lady!"
"Do as your mother says," David ordered. He took a swig of beer. Tim and Curly always got away with everything. Because they were Mama's babies. Ever since their real dad Cecil ran off with his new girlfriend, Nancy became overprotective of her boys as they started getting into more and more trouble.
Angela mostly did her own little thing with her friends and rarely got into trouble. She lowered her eyes and stomped upstairs. Angela Shepard wasn't a baby. She could take care of herself.