A/N: I do not own The Outsiders. I guess I own Joanne. Title from the song by Lou Christie, which was No.1 in February '66 and still in the chart as the story starts, so let's imagine it on the radio in the DX...

This will probably make most sense to anyone who read my Evie stories, because it overlaps those events, but I'd still love to hear from new readers and if you PM I will happily explain any back story that seems confusing.

March 1966...

Joanne

"My car coughed and died." How stupid did I sound? But that's what happened. And now I was going to be late to the warehouse and the whole plan I had, to get to know the office before I officially started work on Monday, so people wouldn't treat me like I only got the job because I was the boss's niece, was shot to hell and I was going to be late.

I didn't realize I was trying to explain all that, in one breath, to the garage guy, until he interrupted me.

"Hey, I'll come take a look. I'm sure it's nothin' major. It'll be okay." He sounded so calm and confident, I relaxed a little.

He whistled as we walked back along the street, the tune that had been on the radio back at the workshop, and he asked me how I liked Tulsa. I told him I'd only been here a day or so and apart from unpacking, I hadn't done much else. He looked like he was going to say something but then we were there, back at my car, and he popped the hood and started fiddling about.

"Try her now," he said, after only a minute or so and I turned the key without much hope. The engine caught and roared into life.

When I thanked him and asked him what I owed him, he waved the question away.

"Wasn't nothin'. You have a good first day, huh?"

I had a real busy first day, if that qualifies as 'good'; learning where everything went and how to transfer calls between the office and the warehouse without cutting off the caller. But, at lunchtime, when I sat with Lynette, the other secretary, and ate my sandwich, I found I was thinking about him. He sure was cute.

After work, I drove home – I half expected the car to cough and splutter, after being parked up all day, but it didn't. Whatever the DX guy had done seemed like a real fix. I was feeling proud of myself, first day as a working woman and all, and I pulled over to get an ice cream to celebrate. Maybe living with my mom's sister and working for her husband wasn't exactly striking out on my own, but I was a lot further from home than any of my friends from school had made it so far. Most of them wouldn't leave their parents' farms until they married some local boy and moved to his farm.

I wanted something else. I wanted something different.

I wanted to be brave enough to walk into a Dairy Queen and order myself whatever I wanted, including ice cream even if I didn't have dinner yet - and to pay for it with my own money. It was a small step on the road to becoming an independent young woman, but hell, it was 1966 and I could do whatever I wanted.

The place was busy and it felt strange not to know anyone. Back home, in Betty-Ann's diner, I would have known all the kids at least by sight and plenty by name too. I hesitated, suddenly nervous. And then I saw him.

I remembered how reassuring he'd sounded when he told me everything would be okay and my feet just carried me over to him. I heard myself offer to buy him a drink for saving me from being late to work and he said yes. He said yes!

Never in a million years would I have offered to buy a boy a drink back home, I don't even know how the words popped out my mouth.

When we got to the counter, I didn't open my wallet in time and he bought the drinks anyway, which defeated my gesture. But by that time I didn't care, because we were talking and he was smiling at me and I know I was smiling back like a fool.

"You wanna get something to eat?"

And then I remembered I was expected back at Aunt Emma's. She probably had some special dinner planned.

"'S'okay," he smiled. "How about I call you after I take my kid brother home? You ask your aunt, see if you can come out? We could go for a walk or something, after dinner, if you gotta eat there..." I nodded. I really wanted to see him. He grinned. "You gotta give me your number, so I can call you."

I scribbled it on a napkin and he tucked it in his shirt pocket, as he walked me to my car. More than one chick in the DQ stared at us on our way past. I reminded myself that I didn't know anyone here – maybe he had a girl already and maybe those chicks were looking out for a friend. Although I couldn't imagine how any boy would have the nerve to make a date in front of his girlfriend's friends.

At home, I hovered in the kitchen door as Aunt Emma asked me how my day went. I told her everything went 'just fine', that I liked Lynette and the office and – in a rush – at the end I said:

"I met a boy. He's gonna be calling in a little while."

She turned around from the stove. "Well, you're a fast worker, honey." She smiled. "Does he work at the warehouse?"

"Does who work at the warehouse?" Uncle Jim came in the back door, his sleeves rolled up, tossing his newspaper onto the kitchen table. Aunt Emma scooped it up and kissed him hello and handed it back to him in one movement.

"I need that table clear," she said, "and Joanne got herself a date, is who I'm asking about."

"With one of the warehouse boys? I don't think –"

I interrupted and told them no, not one of the warehouse boys, he worked at the DX and his name was Sodapop Curtis.

"What's his real name?" Aunt Emma asked at the same time as Uncle Jim said, "Curtis...?" thoughtfully.

I told them that was his real name but I didn't think they believed me, the way I'd believed him. I told them about his fixing my car and Uncle Jim muttered about how he should have looked at it himself. Aunt Emma looked at me thoughtfully.

"He ask you out to eat, honey?"

"That's okay. I told him I'd be expected here. Maybe I could go out after, though?"

"Oh, it'll be just fine cold tomorrow. If you want to go out, you can."

Uncle Jim blinked in surprise. "Now, wait a minute..." The phone started ringing. I looked at both of them. It wasn't my house, it wasn't my place to answer it. But Aunt Emma waved me towards it.

I picked it up, never doubting for a second that it was him. It was. His voice was even more gorgeous on the phone. I swear I could hear him smiling.

"Tell him to come to the door. I ain't having no horns sounding out front..." Uncle Jim was talking as I made arrangements for Sodapop to come pick me up in half an hour. Aunt Emma shushed him and he started reminding her about some boy that my cousin Kathleen had dated in high school, who never came up to the house. Kathleen was married now and expecting her second baby.

I ran upstairs and opened my closet and despaired. Why had I said half an hour? I took the quickest shower in human history and then dressed three separate times. I settled on capris and a sweater, my new shoes and my charm bracelet. I redid my hair and makeup and I was almost exactly ready when I heard the front door bell.

Not quite ready enough to save him from an interrogation.

Uncle Jim was facing down Sodapop, with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. "What you drivin' there, son?" he was asking as I came down the stairs.

"That's my brother's pick up, sir, well, I guess it's all of ours really, I mean, it was my dad's and now Darry uses it most, for work and stuff, but – " He broke off and smiled at me. "Hi."

I said Hi back.

Uncle Jim, who had been looking out at the truck, frowned. "Curtis, is it? I got a Curtis works for me, nights."

Sodapop looked surprised. "My brother works over to the warehouse up on Sheridan, coupla nights a week. Hughes Construction Supplies."

"Big fella, dark hair?"

Soda nodded.

"Well, I'll be. He works construction too, I think?"

"Roofin' mostly. He does some dry walling, winters."

"Hard working young man." Uncle Jim nodded thoughtfully. "Where you taking my niece?" I cringed inside, but Sodapop just smiled, looking at me.

"Wherever she wants to go, sir. I don't care. It's up to her."

"I don't know anywhere around here," I reminded him.

"Jim," Aunt Emma called him from the kitchen door, her tone telling him he'd asked enough.

I paused, looking back at her. "Uh, do I have a curfew?"

"Well now, it is a work night, so I guess you don't want to be too late. I'm sure you'll use your judgement." She smiled at me. "Have a nice evening, honey."

As we climbed into the truck, I apologized for Uncle Jim's inquisition.

"Aw, that was okay. I had worse. Never had to answer questions 'bout Darry before. Wait'll I tell him I met his boss!"

"That's your brother, 'Darry'?"

"Yup. He's twenty one. You saw the other one, Pony, at the DQ earlier? He's coming up on fifteen."

I didn't ask him to repeat his little brother's name. I figured if I was sitting next to a guy named Sodapop, anything was possible. He was still chuckling about his brother working for Uncle Jim. "So, are you, like, real expert on construction supplies?" he teased.

"No. I just wanted off the farm and I'm pretty good at typing and Uncle Jim's secretary left to have a baby, so, here I am. I ain't gonna live with them forever. Soon as I save up enough, I'mma get my own apartment." I wondered if he would laugh at me, at my grand plan. I wondered if he would think I was loose, wanting to live on my own and do my own thing.

He just nodded. "Yeah? That's cool. I can dig that. Sometimes I think it might be nice to have my own place. Gets kind of crowded at ours sometimes."

"You got other brothers and sisters?"

"Nah, just the three of us. But we got buddies over most of the time."

"What do your folks say about that?" I asked. And then he told me. About his parents. I felt awful for asking, but he seemed okay, didn't seem offended or anything.

He asked if I had brothers or sisters. When I told him I had one older sister, three older brothers and one younger, he whistled low. "Well, if I wasn't on my best behavior before, I sure as heck am now."

"Aw, they ain't so bad. They only beat up my boyfriends if I ask them to. It's my sister you oughta be afraid of..." I watched his reaction out the corner of my eye. He raised an eyebrow.

"An' what about those boyfriends? Any of 'em coming to town after you?"

"I doubt it." I knew it, for sure. But it didn't hurt to put the idea out there.

We drove a little way, to a main drag that was lined with burger joints and crawling with traffic that seemed to be driving just for the sake of driving.

Sodapop waved his hand. "Now this here's The Ribbon. You said you didn't know anywhere around here, well, this is here. Anyone who wants to be seen, this is where they come." We cruised past a crowd of kids shrieking with laughter as they horsed around. I could hardly believe this was an ordinary week night. Back home, this many people, this much party atmosphere, would surely have meant it was the Fourth of July.

"Are you hungry?"

I was startled a little, I'd been watching the crowds so intently. I nodded. Sodapop pulled over to the lot of a little burger joint. "This place is okay. Unless you want something else. I don't care."

I didn't care either. I let him choose the burger, since he knew the menu. He ordered us both the special, but told them to hold the onions. This time, as we walked in and up to the counter and then out again with the food, I knew I wasn't imagining it; girls were looking at us. At me.

He'd parked right next to a picnic bench and we sat there to eat. I watched him take the lettuce and tomato out of his burger, before reassembling it.

"Why didn't you just ask them to hold the salad?"

"I'mma eat it, just not in the burger." He rolled up the lettuce and demolished it in two bites. The tomato went the same way. "Now I can concentrate on the good bit," he said, like it was perfectly normal.

I let him get a good bite out of the burger before I asked casually, "You got a girlfriend?" His eyes went wide and he swallowed hard. I'd probably just given him indigestion.

"Nope." It seemed like an honest answer.

"Hmm." I flicked my eyes over in the direction of two girls who were leaving the place, their heads turning and their body language making it obvious they were talking about us. "What's the deal with this then? People are noticing us."

He shrugged. "People are stupid."

People are stupid? That was his response to the fact that I was getting inspected by chicks I'd never laid eyes on before?

"You just break up with someone?" Someone who wants you back? He shook his head at me. I sipped my Seven Up. Something was going on here.

"Do you have horses, on your farm?" Sodapop asked me. He seemed genuinely keen to know, not like he was redirecting the conversation deliberately.

"Sure. A few, mostly my step dad and my oldest brother, Sam, use 'em to go over the place, check fences, that kind of thing."

"You ride?"

I nodded. "Of course. Ain't my favorite thing to do, but I can."

He looked sad for a second. "I miss it. I used to ride every chance I could, worked over at the stables and took my pay in time on horseback."

"Why'd you stop?"

"I got injured, so my dad put his foot down, then I got the job at the DX and I kind of don't have time any more, I guess."

"Injured how? You fell?" Everyone fell sometimes, how bad could it have been?

He pulled a face. "Fell? Yeah. You could say that. 'Fell'." He chuckled. "I fell about fifteen feet straight up and out the back door." Ha, now I knew what he was talking about.

"He fight you in the chute, or just give you a nice surprise once you got out?" I asked, making Sodapop brighten up.

"You know rodeo? You chase the cans?"

I shook my head. "Not my scene, but Gary, my second eldest brother, he rides saddle bronc. Got a few injuries himself."

"Yeah. Ain't never found a better high, though," he said, wistfully. I raised my eyebrows. "Oh. I don't...I mean, it ain't like I...I mean like car racing and shit like that, I ain't into drugs or nothin'..."

I nodded, sipping my drink. "You drag race? Round here?"

"Sure. My buddy Steve can soup pretty much any engine you can name. You like cars? You wanna see a race some time?" He was so open in his enthusiasm, I knew he was telling the truth when he said he didn't do drugs. Not that drag racing was exactly a low risk activity. But there was just something...honest about Sodapop Curtis that made me not only believe him, but want to get to know him more.

I bit my lip, because I was conscious that I was smiling all the time. He probably thought I was an idiot. I asked him what everyone did after they'd driven up and down The Ribbon.

"The usual. Movies, bowling, or...y'know. The usual."

'The usual' back home included stopping somewhere in the back of beyond, preferably somewhere in the woods, if the guy was choosing. I wondered what Tulsa's equivalent Lovers' Lane was. And whether we'd be swinging past it, oh so casually.

We talked some more about our families, comparing annoying things that older and younger brothers did. It was getting cold and I shivered some. Sodapop leaped up and gave me his leather jacket, just as a sleek, low car pulled into the next parking space.

"Hey, baby, you need a ride home? Keep you warmer than some skanky greaser threads."

I stared at the boys hanging out the car. "What did you say?"

"Joanne. Leave it, it's okay. C'mon." Sodapop tried to steer me to the truck. The boys began to get out the car, all of them in some kind of uniform of fancy sweaters and chino pants.

"Greaser, you might wanna check with the doll before you put your hands all over her," one of them taunted. They all fell about laughing, as if this was the funniest thing they'd heard. This time Sodapop didn't take no for an answer and he practically lifted me into the passenger seat of the truck, closing the door firmly.

He span around and folded his arms, staring down the boys, who laughed even more. Obviously they were loaded. I couldn't hear them so well, from inside the truck, but something they said made him move forward, fists clenched. I banged on the window and Sodapop stopped in his tracks. He walked around the truck and climbed in, starting the engine up. His face stayed set, as he backed out and swung onto the street.

"Who were they?" I asked.

"Socs."

"What's that? Some sports team?"

He shot me a delighted smile. "Nah. That's what we call the rich kids. The 'too much money and not enough sense' crowd."

"Oh." I considered this. "And are they all assholes?"

Sodapop burst out laughing. "Have to say, they pretty much are."

I nodded. "Yeah, we got 'em at home. Don't call 'em that 'Soc' thing, but they're there."

He apologized. Because he nearly hit one. I thought that was so sweet. He said sorry for nearly hitting a guy in front of me? I hadn't even heard what the guy said. If I had, I told Sodapop, maybe I'd have jumped out and slapped the guy myself. I asked if there were a lot of fights in town.

"To be honest, things have been a whole lot better recently." He explained about the North side and the South side and the fact that the high school pulled in kids from different neighborhoods and it wasn't necessarily a successful mix. He didn't seem keen to tell me why things were better, or why they'd been worse before.

He started to point out places as we drove, so I could work out where we were, in relation to Aunt Emma's place and to work. When we came to a junction he hesitated.

"Where are we going now?" I asked.

He pointed left. "Well, that'll take us back to your pad."

I waited. "And..? What's the other way?"

"Um. That's one of the lake roads."

There were dozens of lakes, I knew, from visits when I was younger and from conversation around Aunt Emma and Uncle Jim. I had my answer to the Lovers' Lane question, I guessed, from the way he hesitated.

"Do we not want to go up there?" I asked gently.

He struggled to answer. "Yeah. It's real peaceful, an'...stuff. But I was thinking your uncle might not be so keen to know you went up there and I was kind of thinking...I mean, hopin'...to kind of, maybe, see you again?"

"And you think Uncle Jim might not approve of you, if you drive me to see the lake?" I asked innocently.

"Um. Yeah."

"Oh. Is that where kids go, to make out and stuff, then?"

He swallowed. I grinned.

"I guess it's sensible then, if you take me straight home and I never mention that you mentioned the lake," I said with a cheeky tone, sliding a little closer, "because obviously, nothin' untoward could happen if we never went near the lake." I was right next to him now, my eyes fixed on his. "I mean, no lake, no...nothin', right?"

I kissed him.

I mean, forget about eating ice cream before dinner. If I was really going to be an independent young woman, didn't I get to call the shots? Sometimes?

He was surprised, in a good way, and he kissed me back quick enough. And he was good. Real good. We only broke apart when a car sounded its horn behind us and he had no choice but to turn. He turned left.

And I thought about what I'd just done. I had only just met this boy. If anyone at school had made the first move on a guy that quick, it would have been the talk of the whole student body. But I didn't go to school no more. One kiss didn't make me a slut. New town, new me, that's what I told myself.

I checked my make up quickly in my compact, but it was all good.

"So, I guess I oughta ask you. If you wanna go out again?" Sodapop looked a little nervous, I thought. I wondered what kind of girls he usually dated, if a kiss like that wasn't a sign that a girl really liked him.

"Uh huh." I wasn't playing hard to get. 'Yes, please' just sounded kind of lame.

"Movies tomorrow? Or whatever you want..."

"Sure. Tomorrow would be good."

He parked out front of Aunt Emma's house. And turned off the engine. This time he leaned in and kissed me. Softer, quicker, but no less good for all that. When he smiled at me, I wondered how I had ever been so focused on my car or on getting to work this morning, because I felt like I could have sat there watching him smile forever. He whispered,

"Uh, Joanne? Your uncle is kind of standing guard in the front door."

I jumped and looked around. "I'd better go in." I rolled my eyes.

"Hang on," Sodapop hurried around the truck and opened my door. "The handle kind of sticks sometimes," he explained as I hopped down.

"Thanks, for showing me around. And for fixing the car this morning." I walked back a step, reluctant to go in.

"'S'okay. I mean, I was glad to. I mean, thank you, for breaking down near the DX."

I laughed as he babbled and I walked about six feet off the ground all the way into the house, right past Uncle Jim.