So hello! I'm back! (ish). And omg have I missed y'all so much! I hope you enjoy this and please please please lemme know if I should continue. Any criticism is welcome! And once again, The Outsiders is not mine. All rights go to Miss SE Hinton.
It was seven at night as I drove my tired ass home from the DX. I had just worked a long shift and nothing sounded better to me than a nice quiet house and a cold beer. My old man was out of town for whatever reason and I was glad that I wouldn't hear his bitchin' and hollerin' and apologies for awhile. I had a date with Evie and we were gonna double date with Soda and Sandy. I plan on inviting Evie back to the house and let's just say that this weekend was going to be pure bliss.
I pulled up to my house actually happy for once. I got out of my truck as I headed onto the broken porch. To my surprise, the door was slightly open. Thinking nothing of it, I went inside and straight into the kitchen. I opened our dirty fridge and got a nice cold beer out as I opened the sucker up with my shirt. Flinging the beer cap onto the counter, I took several long and refreshing gulps of the beer as I turned around.
"Howdy!" said a random kid sitting at the kitchen table. I jumped and spit the beer onto the floor.
In no time I got my switchblade from my pocket as I held it up, by pure instinct. "Who the fuck are you!?" I hissed at him threateningly. I finally got a good look at this intruder. He had a cowboy hat on, a dirty flannel with ripped jeans and boots. He didn't look more than twelve and five feet tall. He wasn't moved by my switchblade as he grinned, which revealed his buck teeth.
Good grief, he could've opened my beer with those.
"STEVIE!" he shouted as he ran towards me and hugged me. I was annoyed, confused and disgusted all at the same time. Kinda like when I see Two-Bit.
"Get the fuck off of me," I gruffly pushed him off. He didn't even wince at the tone of my voice. "Now who the fuck are you? And how did you get in here?"
"It's me, Randy, cousin Stevie!" he replied back happily. I gave him a glare and looked him over. Boy was he lanky.
"I ain't got no cousins," I replied cooly. And it was true. Well, semi-true because I actually didn't know if I had any. I don't know anyone from my mother's side and I have never met my father's. I put my switchblade back into my pocket though. This kid was anything but threatening.
"Sure ya do!" this hyper-fucking-kid-who-was-giving-me-a-migraine replied back to me. I groaned. "Uncle Jack and my daddy are brothers!" Did I mention he had a strong, southern accent? I looked at him strangely.
"Did you just say your name is Randy?" I asked. He gave me a goofy grin and nod.
"Yessiree, Randall Randle Jr, Randy for short."
"Randall Randle?" I clarified. He nodded eagerly.
"Correct!" he replied happily. "I was named after my great grandfather Randolph!"
I just looked at him incredulously. I was in the goddamn twilight zone.
"Okay Randy, what in the absolute hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be on some farm riding a tractor or some shit?"
"Didn't Uncle Jack tell you?" I cringed at the term Uncle Jack. "I'M STAYIN' WITH YOU FOR THE WEEKEND!" he yelped as he proceeded to hug me again. I gave a grunt and pushed him off once more. There's nothing more I hated than being hugged.
"What the hell are you talking about, and quit hugging me, I hate that shit." I growled as I dusted myself off. Buck teeth boy's face turned dark for a moment before he returned to his goofy faced self. It was a quick transition, but I caught it. I watched him intensely. He never once faltered under my gaze though.
"My daddy is havin' some trouble, so Uncle Jack went down to help him," is all he told me. I studied him. I did know my father had a brother, but from what I understood, the old man didn't talk to him because he owed him some money.
Typical
"And how long do you plan on staying here?" I asked coldly. I was looking forward to having the house to myself and I did not want to look after a pipsqueak. I was pissed the old man didn't tell me shit about this, but then again, we rarely talk without arguing.
And when we do argue, I usually stroll right out the door and go down to Soda's.
"My daddy said just for the weekend!" Randy grinned. "It's nice meetin' ya Stevie!"
"Steve," I corrected, annoyed. "You call me Steve. Not Stevie. Not even cousin Stevie. I hate nicknames n'shit."
"Okay, Steve," he emphasized with a big ole grin on his face. My eyes narrowed at him, hoping I'd intimidate him a bit so he'd know that I wasn't in the mood to be fucked with. He just stared at me, beaming like an idiot. His face was full of freckles and sunburnt. As scrawny as he looked, he did have a small build on him.
Don't get me wrong, I was still infuriated about the fact that my old man just decided to ditch and dump me with a random ass country kid whose name is fucking Randall Randle. But in my head I was already planning to leave him with Ponyboy so I could take advantage of having the house for myself. No way in hell was going to look after him and let him ruin my weekend. He looked well enough to fend for himself. Speaking of looking after himself:
"How old are you?" I inquired.
"Just turned thirteen," he smiled proudly. Jesus, does this kid's mouth ever hurt from smiling this fucking much? I groaned and took a long swig of beer.
No way in hell was I going to have a tag-along this weekend.
And that's it! Looks like Stevie might be getting his own type of Ponyboy for the weekend. ;) I hope y'all enjoyed, and like I said, let me know if you guys are interested in Randall Randle and Steve adventures for the weekend, haha. I've had this little idea for awhile and originally I was going to make it a one-shot, but I might make it into a three-shot instead. It's too long to be a one-shot and too short to be a real, chapter fanfic. Anyway, thank you so much for reading!