I do not own the Outsiders. I own the main character, however. You should read the book before reading this. Sorry at the OC characters.

My heart was beating as I walked around the old park. Willy had told me to meet him here, but he hadn't shown up. I wasn't surprised. Even if Willy was a born mastermind, he couldn't keep track of the time if he tried.

My hands were getting clammy. My brother had always told me not to be alone after dark. According to him, hoodlums like him could easily attack girl like me. I believed him. My own mother had gotten attacked by a hood like him. I had never seen her again after the event.

A figure moved and I grabbed my switchblade. "Whose there?" a boy called out and I stiffened.

My brother had always warned me not to fall for this trick. Most of the time it wasn't a trick, but, as he always told me, it was a trick used often to make people, in the dark, give away their whereabouts. This is why I stayed quiet as the figure approached me.

I knew he couldn't see me clearly; he was heading about five yards away from me. Very soon he would see me clearly. I wondered what my father would do in this situation. Probably greet him cheerfully and then get stabbed in the back. My father hadn't grown up in the same neighborhood as me. It would be a bad idea to follow his example. My brother would probably jump the poor guy. Another bad idea. Willy would retreat. That was definitely out of the question! I was my brother's sister. I was no coward.

The second the stranger moved, I moved. We both put our blades about an inch from each other's throats. I could see him clearly now. He had a bored expression that reminded me of my brother's expression he used specifically for cops. He had green eyes that seemed to know the pain of the world and not the good of it. His dark greasy hair was combed back like a hoodlum.

We stared at each other for what seemed to be eternity. Both of us were tense and ready to jump into action at any moment. "What are you doing in our territory, Soc?" he drawled lazily even though my knife was at his throat.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I told him curtly. "The last time I checked, I am not a 'Soc', whatever that is."

I could tell that he thought that I was bluffing from the disbelieving expression on his. "Ponyboy!" a rough, man's voice shouted.

The boy winced. "Ponyboy!" the voice called out again.

Seconds later a man appeared. I couldn't study him since my eyes were focused upon the boy, but I sensed that he was surprised, as any sane person should be, at the sight he saw. "Darry!" a happy-go-lucky voice yelled. "I told you that Pony had to be alone at the park again to figure it out!"

A handsome boy emerged. I still didn't look away from the first boy. "You really like your trouble, Ponyboy," the handsome boy said in awe.

The man growled at me, "Remove that knife from his throat, now."

I remained calm, on the outside. "Not until he does," I replied coolly.

The man nodded. "Ponyboy, remove your blade," he ordered.

I stared at the boy as he stared at me. Very slowly and cautiously we moved our pocketknives from each other's throats. I pocketed it; it would do me no good now. I couldn't take on three guys easily. There was a deep silence the first boy sharply broke it. "Who are you?" he sneered. "Socs aren't allowed in our territory."

"I told you," I said slowly, acting like I was patiently talking to a very slow person, "that I have no idea who 'Socs' are."

The man folded his arms. "You aren't from here," he said, his voice dark.

I snorted. "Is it so apparent?" I asked sarcastically.

"Linda," a familiar voice complained, "don't act so nasty to everyone you meet. Your brother said only to be nasty to hoodlums."

I scowled as I snapped, "Well, I think I have a right to be nasty, then. After all, a hoodlum just put a knife to my throat and his gang just came to the rescue."

The handsome boy snickered. I glared at him. He shrugged good-naturedly and said, "Ponyboy's no hoodlum. Here, we're called greasers."

My makeshift, blond guardian stepped out of the shadows and stood next to me. "Hullo," he said cheerfully to the crowd, "new neighbors. I'm Wily Willy. Pleasure to meet you."

The 'greasers' considered him for a second before the handsome boy smiled and introduced his group, "I'm Sodapop Curtis. The big one over there is Darry and the rascal is Ponyboy. They're my brothers."

I glanced at Willy and said sharply, "I'm going now."

"Sorry about her," Willy apologized while I stomped away. "She's just a little frustrated since she can't find her-"

"Shut your trap!" I shouted over my shoulder.

"Fine!" Willy loudly grumbled back.

As much as I wanted to deny it, I couldn't find the person I was looking for. I felt like he was hiding from me, but I didn't understand why. I hadn't seen him for almost nine years now. Even though I never saw him, I was always in contact with him through long letters. That was before they stopped coming and I convinced Father to let me search for him.

A chill went down my spine as I noticed that I was completely alone and in darkness. My brother would skin me alive if he knew I was doing such an idiotic thing. I almost screamed when a car engine penetrated the silence. It was a red Mustang. I flinched; I had a feeling that this meant bad news for me.

To hide my nervousness, I continued walking in the pitch black. The car stopped and five boys emerged from it. I didn't slow down my gate until they surrounded me. When I knew from their expressions and my commonsense that they weren't here to be nice, I stopped walking and folded my arms, glaring.

"My, my," one of them murmured in a voice that made me want to slug him, "what are the likes of you doing in this neighborhood?"

"Right back at you," I snarled.

Another one of them told his buddies, "We were looking for grease and got a gem."

In a bored tone my brother had taught me, I wondered aloud, "I wonder which one of you idiots could have the sense to not bother and surround complete strangers and force them to listen to your tedious words. I heard that it was against the law to do so."

"Ooooh, touchy," one of them cooed.

With all my strength, I tried not to lose my temper. "Move," I commanded through gritted teeth.

The first one that had spoken stepped forward and drawled, "And whose gonna make us?"

"I will," I said haughtily and I slapped him as hard as I could.

He laughed in such an irritating way that I wanted to do it again. Instead, I shoved him, quickly stepped through the broken circle, and headed at a quick pace home. At least I tried to. The one that had laughed grabbed my wrist and prevented me from leaving. He was a boy with soft dark brown hair and dark blue eyes. If I didn't hate him so much, I would've considered him attractive. I couldn't stand it much longer, so I punched him, hard. He laughed again and I snarled, "You're insane."

"No," he replied, putting his free hand to his bleeding nose, "I'm Robin Moller." "Linda!" I heard Willy yell as he and his new friends walked over to me.

The moment the group, excluding Willy, saw the boys that had surrounded me, they flew into a rage. In less than ten seconds, they were attacking the boy ferociously. The boys fled. Robin winked at me, hand still on his bleeding nose, and joined them, luckily freeing my wrist.

Willy had joined his new friends on chasing the boys to their car and was now jogging back with them. Sodapop gave my hand, the one I had punched Robin with, a long look before asking, "What did you do to your hand?"

I looked at it and saw that it was covered in blood. "Linda," Willy complained, lifted his hands to the heavens as if asking why, "I told your father that I wouldn't let you do anything unladylike on this trip! We've been here for a day – twenty-five blasted hours – and your hand looks like you just dipped it in blood!"

I shrugged, examining my hand curiosity, and replied coolly, "Then don't tell him…and a day is twenty-four hours."

"Shoot!" he cried in annoyance. "I don't care!"

"What'd you do to it?" Sodapop inquired again.

"Punched that-that…guy," I answered, not finding a bad enough word to call Robin.

"You're in a better mood now," Darry commented dryly.

Willy laughed, explaining, "She just slugged someone…Gets it from her brother, she does."

"Can we go home now?" I complained to Willy.

He rolled his eyes but consented. Finally!

I woke up the next morning and quickly changed from my dressing gown into a grey skirt and white blouse. Then I went downstairs and made breakfast which was the normal toast with jam, scrambled eggs, apple juice, and cereal.

Just as I finished my meal, Willy ran downstairs, pulling on his shirt as he ran, and gorged down his whole breakfast in about thirty seconds. "'ome om!" he yelled, mouth full of food as he dragged me out of the house.

"Where are we going?" I shot back.

He gulped down the rest of his food and replied, more clearly this time, "To the Curtis'. They live in front of us, ya know."

"Great," I muttered.

When we arrived, Willy swung open the door, without knocking, and hollered a greeting to the house's occupants. I rolled my eyes in annoyance. As we entered the kitchen, I saw Ponyboy and Darry sitting around a table, eating eggs. Ponyboy was looking at the stairwell in surprise. "Why did Soda just leave?" he asked Darry.

Darry ruffled Ponyboy's hair and replied, "Because a girl just came in and he ain't dressed decently."

"What girl?" Ponyboy wondered, looking around.

Darry lightly whacked Ponyboy on the side of his head and Sodapop, who just came down the stairs, said, "The one right in front of you, dimwit."

Ponyboy looked at me. "You're a girl?"

"Last time I checked," I said dryly.

Ponyboy looked at me differently. "Oh. Sorry."

Darry looked at Willy and me imploringly, questioning, "So who is that person you're lookin' for?"

Willy glanced at me. I sighed and decided to tell, but before I could answer, a voice called out, "Why's there a Soc in your kitchen, Darry?"

"She's not a Soc," Ponyboy told the boy who walked into the kitchen.

"Nice to meet you, un-Soc. I'm Two-Bit," the boy greeted me.

"I'm Linda," I replied.

"Who's the chick?" another boy said, emerging from the door.

I snapped, "I'm not a 'chick.'"

He ignored me and looked imploringly at Sodapop. "That's Linda," he explained. "Linda, this is Steve Randle."

"Linda," Steve processed my name and looked me up and down.

I glared at him and he commented, "Sounds like a chick's name."

I opened my mouth, but Willy quickly stopped me. "Don't Linda. Dally told you not to resort to violence on urge."

"That hypocrite," I muttered and noticed that all the boys were looking at Willy.

"Who's 'Dally'?" Ponyboy quietly asked.

"The guy we're looking for," I told him. "I've been receiving letters from him for ages, but they suddenly stopped coming."

"You're his girlfriend?" Steve asked in disbelief.

I looked at him in horror. "That is disgusting! He's my brother!"

"I hate to break this to you," Darry said slowly, breaking the long silence, "but he's dead."

"No!" I shouted as my worst fear and suspicion was said to be true. "Dally couldn't die! He just couldn't!"

With that, I bolted out of the house and to the park that I had met the boys at. For what seemed like hours, I sat on the swing set and tried to accept the obvious. Dally dead. It seemed impossible. Dally had been there when I was being hit by my mother and when Father had welcomed me to his family. Dally had been there when I had my tooth fall out; when I fell off my bike; when I was almost mugged; when I learned to read. Memories came to me. Dally teaching me how to defend myself and when he taught me how to read. "Sorry about Dally," Ponyboy said.

I almost yelped in surprised, but recovered in time. Ponyboy seemed to have materialized beside me. I looked at him then away again. At the moment, he looked a lot nicer than he had the last time I had seen him at the park. "He wasn't my real brother," I rambled, "just my half-brother. He practically raised me. My mother just cared about drinking. My father thought that I was dead for awhile. His father had abandoned us when I was born. Dally still took care of me, though. He taught me all the things I need to learn for life. After I found Father, he left and never returned. He always wrote though…always…until now. I should've known….It was obvious."
"I never knew Dallas had a sister," Ponyboy said in awe. "He didn't seem the type. He always acted like he didn't like anyone."

"Really?" I said, trying to forget that Dally was dead. "He was always so sweet to me. When I was down, he always cheered me up."

"Are we talking about the same guy?"

I laughed and said with a sigh, "Sorry about my reaction. I suppose we'd better head back."

We stood and left.

About a month later, on my request and constant begging, Ponyboy took me to spot where Dally had died. Ponyboy and his gang had become good friends with Willy. I liked to hang out with Ponyboy, since he was my age. I liked Sodapop, Darry, and Two-Bit, but detested Steve. He seemed to enjoy making my life a misery. Every time Ponyboy and I were talking about something alone, he would jump out of nowhere and call us 'lovebirds'. He stopped calling me a 'chick' and instead, to my immense frustration, called me 'the little dove'. Once, when I went into my kitchen to make breakfast, he was at the kitchen table and wouldn't move until I chased him out with a frying pan and knife in hand.

As we neared the street light, I noticed a red Mustang behind us. "Is it my imagination or are we being followed?" I wondered.

Ponyboy noticed this too and nodded. "Should we run or fight?" he asked.

In worried tones, I replied, "I don't think we have much of a choice."

I was right. Seven boys emptied out of the car and surrounded us. I recognized five of them as the Socs who had surrounded me a month previous. I glared at them and Ponyboy growled, "What do you want?"

"What I want to know," an unfamiliar Soc sneered, "is what a greaser like you is doing with our kind."

"Maybe we should teach this greaser a lesson that will keep him in his place," another one of them said, laughing.

I examined them. They were all tough looking. Two of them were blonds, three of them had black hair, one of them had red, and there was Robin Moller. I knew we didn't have a chance at a fight. I also knew that it was unlikely we could avoid one…unless we could talk them out of it.

"I'm not your 'kind,'" I informed them coolly.

Robin smirked and countered me, "Yes you are. My father knew your father and your father definitely is our kind."

"I'm not my father," I told him.

"You share blood."

I rolled my eyes. Ponyboy made the mistake of talking as he said, "Listen, Socs, you'll regret jumping us."

One of the Soc punched him in the jaw. Both Ponyboy and I grabbed our blades. If either of us had been thinking, we wouldn't have done so, but when you are greatly outnumbered by Socs, you don't usually think before you act. "Wait," Robin stopped his friends and us, "we can prevent from getting bloody easily. Remember the mission?"

"Right," one of them said, wishing it was otherwise, it seemed.

"What mission?" I snapped at Robin.

He gave me an innocent look as he ordered, "Come with me."

I glanced at Ponyboy who was giving the Socs a look of heavy dislike. "Not him," Robin said, noticing my look.

Ponyboy shrugged at me, making it my choice. I evaluated the situation and decided that it was our best chance. I nodded. Robin grabbed my wrist and dragged me away from the crowd.

In a very grave voice, Robin told me, "I want you to go out with me."

Even though I was quite surprised, I hid it. "The day I die," I growled.

Robin glanced over my shoulder at Ponyboy. "It might be the day he dies."

I gasped, in spite of myself. "That's illegal!" I cried.

Robin reconsidered his words and admitted, "Maybe not kill exactly, but harm, definitely. You can't go to the police because we'll deny it."

I stared at him in shock. "I'll be at that park with friends tomorrow night. If you're going to do it, meet me there. Afterwards, I'll give him back."

"That is definitely against the law!" I protested.

He shrugged. "I won't get caught."

With that, he strode off and left with his friends, who were dragging Ponyboy. I ran after them, but was too late. "Darn it!" I muttered.

I sat down at the spot where my beloved brother had died and where my new friend had been kidnapped. What on Earth was I going to do?

Willy found me an hour later. I was still stunned, but when he asked what was wrong, I was able to tell him. He stared at me for a minute before dragging me to the Curtis' house. Once there, he told the gang for me, since I was still in shock. Then I remembered something Dally had told me: If you are threatened, do what you're told until you can get revenge without being harmed.

Meanwhile, the gang was talking about the situation. Darry suggested, "Maybe we can go to that Soc's home and kidnap him until they release Pony."

"But the police…" Sodapop disagreed.

Two-Bit shook his head, wondering, "If we can't go to the police and the Socs can, what good are those annoying cops?"

"I'll do it," I said dully.

"What?" Willy asked and they all turned to me.

With more confidence, I repeated, "I'll do it. I'll go on this one date with that jerk."

Willy refused firmly, "No."

"Out of the question!" Steve cried and I gave him an odd look, but decided to ignore his outburst.

"Why not?" I inquired.

"Because-because," Willy seemed lost for words as he stuttered, "because we don't know his objective. What'll I tell your father if you get into trouble, like usual?"

I scowled at him. "That idiot isn't going to do anything to me. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself!" I snapped.

Two-Bit recommended, "How 'bout we vote?"

"All in favor say 'aye,'" Sodapop commanded with mock superiority which made me know why Dallas had liked them so much: they had humor in tough situations.

"Aye," Two-Bit said lazily.

"Aye," Darry hesitantly consented.

"Aye!" Sodapop cried out with a grin.

"Aye," I decided.

"You don't count!" Willy growled, glaring at me.

I shrugged. "You're still out numbered."

Scowling, Steve stomped out of the room. "What's wrong with 'im?" Two-Bit said curiously.

"He don't like defeat," Sodapop explained.

I wondered if that was true as I considered Steve's great opposition to the situation.

"You don't have to do this!" Willy cried as I headed towards the park.

I rolled my eyes. "William, I hate to break this to you, but I kinda do," I replied, heavily annoyed.

The walk to the park seemed to take forever. I had taken time practicing keeping cool. It wouldn't be very good for Pony or me if I lost my temper. I didn't know what Robin's reaction would be, but I didn't want to risk it.

"Right on time," Robin said once I had reached the park.

I glared at him and evaluated him. He was wearing a red madras shirt and his brown hair heavily combed. I knew that my preparation not to lose my temper was going to be in vain. This was going to be a difficult night.

Robin took my hand and pulled me to his red Mustang. I didn't ask where we were going. Instead, I stared at the floor, trying to keep my temper in check. Soon I found myself watching a movie at a place called the Nightly Double. "What's your motive?" I finally asked him.

He shrugged and replied, "Revenge. Ponyboy Curtis and one of his friends killed a boy of our kind awhile ago. We Socs couldn't do anything about it, though. Dallas Winston had a fight with my brother and won. Steve Randle once held me and my friends off when we were jumping him and we never got our revenge. Curtis is your friend, Winston is your brother, and Randle is…fond of you."

"I feel your pain," I said sarcastically and countered his points, "Ponyboy and Johnny were attacked and they acted in self-defense. It was a fair fight between Dally and your brother, and so what if Steve Randle is a lot tougher than you? Being a jerk and sneak isn't going to change that."

"Really?" he replied haughtily and put his arm around my shoulders.

I instantly shrugged away and slapped him. Angrily, I stomped out of the car, head held high. I could hear Robin Moller laughing at me. I really hated that guy.

The walk home was long, but I didn't notice in my fury. "I told you that it was a bad idea," Steve Randle said.

I looked at him in surprise. How did those greasers appear out of nowhere so well? "How do you know that it ended badly?" I questioned, suspicious.

"I followed you," he said innocently.

"Oh."

For some reason, I wasn't angry; I suppose that it was difficult to be very mad at one person and then slightly mad at another. It took me awhile to discover that Steve wasn't being aggravating. "Are you feeling alright?" I asked.

He shrugged and said, "I'm fine."

I gave him a wary look before deciding to ignore it. "Are you gonna get your own revenge?" he inquired.

I sighed and admitted, "I have no idea. If I did, I don't know how."

"Well, if you don't," Steve stated cheerfully, "I'll have my revenge. That Soc has no right to go 'round, kidnappin' people."

"What are you going to do?" I wondered tentatively, not sure I wanted to know.

"Murder him."

I stopped in my tracks. "You wouldn't!" I cried. "You'd go to jail!"

Steve chuckled and commented, "I didn't think that you cared."

I glared at him, continued walking, but didn't respond. Steve snickered, "I can't believe he said that I was 'fond' of you. What an interesting word to use."

I rolled my eyes. Then, an idea donned on me. I didn't like it, but it was tempting. "Steve, is there someone following us?" I asked.

"Yep," he replied, "your boyfriend."

I lightly whacked him on the arm. "Good because I have an idea."

"I'm all ears," he told me.

I nodded and, turning slightly red, whispered something in his ear. He suddenly started laughing very, very hard. I grimaced at him. "I don't like it, but it's the best I can think of! Stop laughing!" I hissed.

He obeyed, but still grinned. "Where are we gonna do it?" he asked.

"The park," I answered coolly, still a little red.

Steve grabbed my hand a quickly dragged me there. "Why am I doing this?" I groaned.

"Revenge," Steve replied in good humor. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"More like a billion thoughts against this crazy idea," I muttered.

Steve laughed, pulled me close, murmured in my ear, "Too late," and kissed me.

I quickly jerked away. "Done," I whispered in relief.

"He saw it!" Steve said softly and gleefully.

"Great, can we go now?" I muttered.

Steve nodded, grabbed my hand, and took me to the Curtis' house. Once inside, I yanked my hand out of his grasp. The gang greeted us. Seconds later, Ponyboy ran in, saw Steve and me standing next to each other, and ran back out, very pale. Ponyboy hesitantly came back in and, face still pale, looked at Steve and me.

"What is it, Pony?" Sodapop asked while I said, "Are you alright?"

He quietly told me, "Right after Moller got you, I was let go."

"What happened afterwards?" Two-Bit inquired. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I-I s-saw," Ponyboy stammered, pointed at Steve and me, not able to say our names, "k-kissing!"

Everyone turned to look at me and Willy cried, "That's equivalent to seeing a ghost. Steve must be dead and that's his ghost!"

"Good goin'," Sodapop told his friend.

"It was nothing like that," I reassured the white Ponyboy. "It was just to get revenge on Robin Moller."

Ponyboy was relieved. I turned to Willy and told him, "As long as you don't tell Father, you can tease me to the end of the world. It was worth getting at Moller."

Willy laughed and informed me, "I'll take you up on that."

I rolled my eyes. As I walked out of the room, I walked into another chapter of my life, as exciting as the previous one.

Ha, ha, ha! Even though I wrote it, that part always makes me laugh very hard, which isn't the greatest thing, because I'm not supposed to make noise after 9:00 PM. Linda really, really hates Robin Moller. And so do I. If you haven't guessed yet, he's the villain of the story and makes me laugh. He loves tormenting Linda. Steve also makes me laugh at his reactions.

Read and review! If you have any questions, put them in your review and I will put them on this page.

Thank you,

Princess Mariana