Hey all! First attempt at an Outsiders fic. First chapter is mostly just setup, not much of any of the characters. I promise starting in the next chapter there WILL BE GREASER BOYS! (=D)
Disclaimer: Really, must I? I'll do it since this is a new fandom for me. Not S.E. Hinton. Just happen to own a copy of the Outsiders. Don't even own the title. Happen to have the All-American Rejects song on my Ipod, though...
Dirty Little Secret
Fact of the day: did you know if police are on your tail, they actually can't follow you into a church? It's one of those things that's a good thing to know if you're a street kid in New York. It's one of those things that can keep you out of trouble with the fuzz. Luckily, I was one of the kids who knew that little bit of trivia.
I sprinted up the stone stairs, dodging the confused onlookers, and slid into the closing door, nearly running over a couple kids who evidently had the same idea I did. The police were on the warpath, rounding up stray kids and sending them to the cooler, or to the nearest home. There was no way in hell I was going back to the cooler. I hadn't done anything this time. Well, unless you count living on the streets, drinking, smoking, and stealing whatever you could to survive. Which I don't.
The lady that always stood near the doors and welcomed people stared at us. I raised an eyebrow at her. I knew the type. She would either let us stay or attempt to shove us back outside, like a good, responsible civilian. I hoped today it would be the former.
The greeter sighed and waved us through. I shot a grin at her and pushed through the crowd, forcing my way further into the church. Once I was a safe distance from the door, I flopped down on the nearest bench and put my feet up with a sigh.
I ignored the stares from all the well-dressed churchgoers and settled further into my seat. This church had great benches. Or was it pews? Either way, they were comfy and no death glare was getting me to move.
When I couldn't take the stares anymore, I ducked my head and folded my hands. To anyone else, I would probably look like the model street-kid taking a moment to pray. Sadly, that wasn't the case.
I looked across the floor from underneath my half-closed eyelids, searching for a familiar face. From my position, all I could see was the shoes of dozens of different people. It wasn't very helpful unless you knew what you were looking for.
Finally I caught a glimpse of worn orange sneakers headed in my direction. They were worn and ragged, the worst spots patched up with the odd bit of duct tape. The duct tape, of course, was either originally orange or colored orange by what looked like sharpies. I could recognize those shoes anywhere.
The owner of the shoes sat down next to me. I unfolded my hands but didn't open my eyes all the way quite yet. "Hey Taffy." I tipped my head back until I was touching the wall and arched my back, stretching out after a more uncomfortable night.
"Hey 'Rica." Nobody called me Erica anymore. It was always either Rica or Michaels- my last name. Anything else got the speaker a punch to the nose. "You made it out?"
"What's it look like?"
"Ooh, touchy today." She elbowed me hard, and I shoved her without looking. A second later I heard a thump as she fell hard off the bench.
"Smooth." I told her, finally opening my eyes to see her sprawled out on the floor. Her dark brown hair splayed out around her, framing her slender face. Her eyes were a warm brown, and her skin was relatively smooth underneath all the dirt. She wore a tattered tie-dye shirt- we called her Taffy because of the bright colors and her sweet nature- and skinny jeans, the hippie theme completed by the peace necklace around her throat. At the moment said necklace had flown up to perch on her nose. She stared at it cross-eyed for a moment before hauling herself up.
"Nice hit." she told me as she pulled me off the chair and we started walking. "I haven't seen anyone else so far. Maybe we're the only ones that got lucky."
"Got any bail?" She stopped and stared at me dubiously. "Right." We kept walking.
"We can't be the only ones that got away. There weren't that many cops, were there? So it's not very likely we're the only ones left. Besides, most of them'll be out soon. Fingers is the only one who's done something real stupid lately." Taffy told me as we slipped out the back door of the church.
"Right. Anyone young enough for the homes?" I asked. Taffy shrugged.
"We all are. Probably just the kiddies, though. I'd say eight and younger?" She was probably about right. Nearly all of the people in our gang were under eighteen, the legal age for adulthood. Taffy and I were two of the oldest, both being fifteen. Any older and you were either in the cooler for worse stuff or too easygoing for your own good. That or you went crazy.
Technically, we would all be under the government's protection. But everyone knew that if you were older than ten, you were probably out of luck. Not many people wanted to adopt teenagers. They were all about the little kids. That's why if you had little brothers and sisters, you wanted to protect them, no matter what the cost. A lot of kids can't take it when their last bit of family is taken away.
Then again, you didn't have to be blood related to be family. Any kids who wanted to be part of our gang were in. If they were too little to decide, we took them in anyway. Kids needed to stick together in New York. No matter what the cost, you stuck by your family. Well, your gang was your family. Most of the time, they were all you had left.
"Rica?" Taffy said. I belatedly realized that had to be at least the third time she'd said my name. I shook myself out of my thoughts quickly.
"Taffy?" I said, mirroring her tone. She rolled her eyes.
"You headed back to 31st Street?" 31st Street was one of our rally points, in the case that something like this ever happened. I hesitated. There was something else I wanted to do first.
"Go ahead. I'm gonna check this way real quick." She stared at me, one eyebrow raised. I stared back at her, daring her to question me.
She shrugged and held up her peace necklace. "Fine." I clinked my matching necklace against hers and we split up.
As soon as Taffy was out of sight, I doubled back and snuck over to the nearest library. Reading was one of those things that weren't very popular among our crowd. Some kids had stayed in school long enough to learn how to read, some hadn't. If you got out early, someone taught you the basics, like how to recognize certain streets. For most kids, it was enough.
I slipped into the library and crept over to my usual chair. It was back in the corner, away from most of the crowd. There was just enough light to read by, and the corner was usually a bit warmer than the rest of the room. The chair itself was one of the comfiest things I'd ever sit in. Was I one of the toughest kids on the street? Was I the leader of one of the most respected gangs in the city? Did I sigh in happiness whenever I fell into that chair? You betcha.
There was a book wedged into the corner of my chair that time. The Outsiders, by S.E. Hinton. I had never heard of it. That didn't mean all that much, considering, though.
Out of habit I checked the copyright date. If it was old enough, I could probably just take it without checking it out. 1967. Last time I checked, it was only April. April 1966. This was way weird.
Oh well. It looked like a decent book. I settled into my chair and flipped open to the first page. "When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I only had two things on my mind: Paul Newman, and a ride home…" I was hooked.
The names and faces fluttered by, some eerily similar to people I actually knew. I knew that this story wasn't real, couldn't be real, but some of the names! The name Dallas Winston was still legendary in parts of New York. And now- according to this book- he was dead. Gone. It was kind of a slap in the face to the way half of the gangs on the street thought of Dallas.
True, it didn't take place in New York. True, Dallas was the only name I recognized, and he did have a pretty good reputation. Yet his description was too accurate to make it a coincidence.
I tucked the book into my jacket, wedging it between my side and my arm. It wasn't very subtle, but it'd do to get me out of here. Something was telling me to keep this book. I'd learned to go with my gut on these kind of things.
I was nearly out the door when a call stopped me. "Did you forget this?" I spun around and focused in on the speaker: one of those old librarian types. (Nothing against librarians- most I know are actually pretty decent) She was standing by my chair. Sitting in the exact spot I had been in thirty seconds ago was a big blue backpack. It was an awfully nice backpack. But I wasn't going to stoop to stealing some random kid's backpack. At least, not in a library.
"Not mine!" I called, turning on my heel and heading toward the door.
"Erica Michaels?" I froze. That was my name. That was my name, and Librarian Lady had just read my name off of that backpack. That was my name, and somehow my name was on that backpack which in most circles obviously meant that the backpack belonged to me.
"Oh, that backpack. Yeah, that's mine." I snatched the backpack from her hands before she could change her mind and start questioning me. I headed out the door, slipping my stolen book into one of the outside pockets.
Once safely outside, I darted around the corner and leaned against the wall, opening the backpack.
Whoever put the bag together knew me pretty well. In the biggest pocket I found a decent pair of jeans- just in my size, which was more than a little creepy- and a tie-dyed T-shirt. You can't imagine how good it felt to be in a different pair of clothes after God knows how long.
Behind Pocket Number 2 I found a decent amount of money, a pack of Camels (yes!) and assorted other supplies. Food, soda, that kind of thing. Enough stuff to keep me going for a little while.
The third pocket caught my interest. There was simply a notebook and a few pens. Taped to the cover of the notebook was a note with my name printed on it. Erica Michaels. Nobody ever called me that. Ever. Not in years. And now twice in one day. It was too freaky of a coincidence. So of course, I had to open it up and check it out.
Erica-
Take the 10:37 train out of the city. There'll be three empty boxcars. Take the middle. Close the doors partway, and make sure nobody sees you.
Once the train leaves, you should be safe. Just make sure to keep an eye out for guards whenever it stops. There shouldn't be too many; there isn't anything too valuable on board.
When the train stops for the fifth time (it should be the day after tomorrow) get off. Walk around, meet the people. You should be able to figure out what to do.
Don't show anyone this note. Don't show anyone the book. Don't give anything away. Do be careful. Best of luck.
The note wasn't signed. I stared at it, reading without comprehending. This guy- whoever he was- wanted me to leave?? In all honesty, I'd never been outside New York City. Then again, I'd always wanted to get out of this stupid street life…
I shoved everything back in the pack and trotted down towards 31st Street. I met up with Taffy a few blocks away. She had glimpsed the cops headed her way and decided to make a break for it. I stopped her and dragged her into the nearest alley.
"I'm leaving," I breathed, inches away from her ear. I clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her yelp of surprise. When I was sure she'd keep quiet, I slowly took my hand away.
Soon I felt her whispered words in my ear. "I'm coming with you."
"I have to do this alone. You need to keep the others under control."
"I don't want you to leave." In the darkness of the alley, her deep brown eyes glowed. I thought I heard a sniffle, but I couldn't be sure over the din coming from the street.
"I'll come back. Soon. I promise. I just need to get away for a while." I said, not unkindly. I put a hand on Taffy's chin and made her look at me. "I wouldn't abandon my best friend, Taff. I couldn't."
A snippet of memory flashed through my head- of someone who had abandoned me. My other best friend. The one who was my partner-in-crime when I was eight and he was ten. But that was over now. Taffy was my best friend. She was my partner-in-crime. I couldn't afford to forget that.
"-do you leave?" Taffy was saying. I shrugged away the memory and returned to the present.
"Tonight. I'm hitching a ride on a train." On an impulse, I pulled Taffy into a hug. I breathed in, memorizing her smell of taffy and smoke. She hugged me for a moment, and then we broke apart. I clinked my necklace to hers, and she pulled a spare necklace from her pocket.
"Just in case," she told me, at my questioning look. She grinned at me, and I smiled back despite myself.
We left the alley and parted ways, she going towards our main hideout, I headed in the direction of the train station.
The train was there, just as the note had said. I hopped in without a backward glance. Only when the train started to move did I risk one last look of my beautiful city. The skyscrapers towered over me, but soon they sped by and I was in the suburbs. I craned my neck for one last glimpse of the Big Apple and the glistening buildings.
In a way, I wasn't really leaving the city of lights and skyscrapers. I was leaving the world on the ground level, the one where kids ruled. A world filled with hunger and sadness; yet, with friendship and hope.
The train sped around a bend, and my city was gone. I was on my own.
****
I passed the next day or so uneventfully. I read my stolen book at least twice more, smoked a few cigarettes, and watched the countryside with the interest of a girl who had always lived in a concrete jungle. The world was so big. Everything was so open. I was starting to get why people loved the country. And then, I got bit by five gazillion bugs and started to change my mind.
Soon, another night had passed, and the train was slowing to a stop. This was my spot. As the train slowed even more, I shoved my things back into my backpack and glanced out of the car.
Three men in uniform were walking down the length of the train. I swore quietly and hid behind the door. The chattering group passed without a backwards glance, although one tripped on a rock and nearly fell into my car.
As soon as they had passed, I sprinted out from behind the door, leaped off the train, and hit the ground running. I heard shouts behind me, but I didn't bother to look back. I raced along the train, and hopped a fence as soon as I had a decent lead. When I hit the ground again, I turned down a street and kept running, taking every confusing turn that I could.
I heard footsteps behind me and ran faster, feet slapping loudly on the paved streets. I risked a glance back and almost ran into a wall. I had run into a dead end.
I pressed my back against the wall, ready for anything, when a figure appeared out of the shadows. "Come on!" he hissed, holding out a hand. I darted towards him, and he led me through another maze of streets. I tried to memorize my path, but I wasn't very successful.
We must have come closer to where the guards were searching because I heard their voices just a few yards away. Without a pause the boy- because he looked only a year or so older than me- spun me into an alley, and we pressed our backs against the wall.
When the guards wandered away, the boy whistled in relief, pulled out a pair of cancer sticks, lit them up, and passed one to me.
As I took a drag, he said, "Nice running. Name's Tim Shepherd. Welcome to Tulsa."
No idea when the next chapter will be up. I shouldn't even really be writing this. Need to be finishing my Twilight stuff. Oh well... Please review, and if you liked this, vote for Outsiders on my poll!
Question for the reviews: If you were to recast The Outsiders using actors/actresses under 25, who would you cast as Ponyboy?