This story is inspired by, but not based on, S.E. Hinton's novel The Outsiders. I have become obsessed with that book and Greasers in general (however I still don't like Grease that much…go figure.) POV will change from chapter to chapter. M'kay?

Disclaimer: I don't own the concept of The Outsiders or X-Men Evo. They belong to S.E. Hinton and Marvel respectively.

With that said, I present you with: Hair Grease, Car Oil, and Leather Jackets

First Contact

The movie hadn't been too hot. The acting was bad, the plot line was crummy, and I had had to go to the bathroom for the whole time. Needless to say, my bladder hurt like hell and I couldn't wait to get home.

A car passed by. "GREASER!" I heard someone yell from inside the Mustang. I didn't give it a second look. I don't care much for what people think. I'm a greaser. We're not supposed to care. And at any rate, I had my brothers, Henri and Emil. Them and the gang. That's all you really need in life. A family and a gang.

I flipped up the collar of my leather jacket. The wind was picking up and my neck was getting chilly. I turned a corner and went on walking straight. There was nothing like a long walk home after a dumb movie. The stars were out and they looked amazing. I'm not one to get into stars and stuff, though. That was Emil's area of expertise. I was into cars, bikes, and girls.

Henri wasn't really like Emil or me. He had a steady girlfriend, Mercy. She was nice. She wasn't greasy, but she was super cool. She had a light laugh and was really good looking. No one in our gang could quite say how she and Henri hooked up. It just happened, and most of the guys just assumed that that was the way it had always been. Henri and Mercy. They were like peanut butter and more peanut butter. It just made sense. He was 22 and the only reason he stayed behind with my brother and me was because he didn't want to go into the "family business." My dad and aunt were gone a lot so that left him to raise the two of us.

Emil was a little wilder. He was 15, making him two years younger than me. He didn't have a steady girlfriend, but he always had a girl on his arm. He would date a girl for about a month. Then he would break up with her. It annoyed Henri to death (not as much as me, but we'll get to that.) He was known as the 'cute' one out of the three of us. He hated Socs, but that never stopped him from dating a few of those girls. His actions usually lead to a fight between him and a couple of Socs, but he had a switch, and Emil was not afraid to use it. Despite his reputation for being the most confrontational of the LeBeau boys, Emil loved to watch the stars. He always said there had to be something more out there than greasers and Socs and girls. He just had to find it.

I was more like Emil than Henri…only worse. While Emil would date his subjects, I was more of the "love 'em and leave 'em" variety. Henri was always on my case about it. "Girls are not toys, Rems," he would say, "You can't just toss them to the side when you get bored." I never paid him much attention, though. It didn't matter to me. I wasn't responsible like Henri nor was into finding something more than a greasy life like Emil. I was happy where and how I was.

I finally got to our neighborhood and found all the guys in my front yard. There were my brothers, Piotr (Pete), Bobby, and John St. John (John John). They were the best friends a guy could ever ask for. They were different, and yet, we were all the same. Whether it was the life we had to live, or the fact that we all had to lean on each other, I will never know.

Pete was the newest member of our little coalition. He was 18 and huge. Pete easily towered over Henri, who had been, up to Pete's arrival, the tallest of us. He, his parents, and sister moved here from Russia. He had an accent, but it started to dissolve as he hung out with us. He was quiet and shy. However, he told me that once he got out of high school, he was going to get a job and get his family out of the slums.

"I love you guys," he had said, "but I don't want my sister to grow up with violence and smoking."

I had laughed when he said 'smoking.' But I could see where he was coming from. There is a lot of underage smoking here, me being a prime example. I could see why he didn't want his sister to grow up this way. Illana was a nice girl. If anyone didn't deserve this life, it was her.

Bobby's story is a rather sad one. His parents hated each other. When Bobby was 7 and his brother, Ronny, 5, his parents got a divorce. The custody was split. His mom got Bobby and his father Ronny. Unfortunately for Bobby, his mother could not afford to keep him and herself financially stable. She ended up buying a house in our neighborhood and Bobby joined us for the friends. His father and brother, on the other hand, lived on the West side. His father was a bank broker and therefore, Ronny was a Soc. Bobby and Ronny didn't talk much. Bobby wanted to reconcile with his brother though.

"No reason why we can't be brothers…just because I'm a greaser and he's a Soc. It shouldn't matter."

I doubt Ronny felt the same.

Then there's John St. John, better known as John John. He didn't have a story. He was 19 and living here because he wanted to. He liked our 'gang' and liked to get into fights. Nothing more to him.

"Hey, Rems," said Bobby as I opened the gate to join them. He was smoking a cigarette despite his age of 16. He flicked away the ashes and took a long drag on it. I saw the ember glow a bright orange and die as he blew out the smoke. "Me and Pete were thinking of going out later, you in?"

I had to think about it. Henri wouldn't be happy if I came home late. But on the other hand I didn't care.

"Yeah, I'm in," I said as I took a seat next to Henri. He rolled his eyes at my enthusiasm and John John offered me a cigarette. I took one and lit up. "Where are we going?"

"Wherever the wind takes us," Bobby said jokingly as he took another drag on his cigarette.

He was wearing a white T-shirt under his leather jacket. His faded blue jeans were ripped in several places and his blonde hair was greased back carefully. His icy blue eyes were full of laughter and jokes. Typical Bobby.

"And where might that be exactly?" Henri asked.

Henri was always the responsible one. He wore a tight black T-shirt and jeans. His hair wasn't greased back so it fell over his eyes lazily. He was wearing an expression on his face that said, "You can go, but no trouble or else."

Pete shrugged and said, "Probably out to the drive in. They're showing a new Newman movie I want to see."

Henri nodded his head at Pete. I think the only reason he was cool with me going was Pete. Pete was responsible. He never drank, smoked, or got into fights when he could avoid it. Henri liked that. He constantly asked me why I couldn't be more like Pete and less like me.

"So it's settled then," I said as I threw my cigarette on the ground and snuffed it out. "What Newman movie is out, Pete?" I asked.

"The Young Philadelphians." Pete answered happily.

Pete loved Paul Newman. Pete said it was his eyes, but I think it was something more. It was the way Newman presented himself. It was the pride Pete could see in his dazzling eyes. It was the way Newman gave off an air of confidence and happiness, even when he wasn't. Pete wanted that. I could tell.

The sun started to set, and Bobby said, "We better get going you two. With Pete there, we'll have to wait in line."

Pete punched Bobby playfully in the arm, "I saved my money for a week to see this. We're going through the line."

"But Pete," I said as we walked down the street and to the drive-in, "if we sneak in, you won't have to use that hard earned money."

Pete rolled his eyes and continued to walk.

The gang liked giving Pete a hard time. It was something to do, and Pete always knew we weren't serious. He was the straightest one of all of us. People liked him for it. I liked him for it.

We settled down in the section for no cars. The movie commercials with the dancing Cokes started to play, and I put my feet up on the chair in front of me. I started to turn my head and my eyes landed on two girls.

One was short and had brown hair pulled back in a careful ponytail. She wore a pink skirt, a white shirt, and a pink cardigan. She had blue eyes and lightly tanned skin. Her name was Kathrine "Kitty" Pride. She was paper shaker, and Pete had a huge crush on her.

But she wasn't who I was interested in. It was the girl next to her. She was wearing a black skirt with a green top. Her reddish brown hair was wavy and she had the most unusual bangs. They were white and framed her face. She didn't look greasy, but she sure didn't look like a Soc. She had pale skin and green eyes. She was beautiful.

"Hey, Bobby," I asked, "who's that petite?" (Did I mention I knew French?)

Bobby looked over my shoulder to where I was staring, "Oh, I forgot, you hadn't gone to school this week."

Unbeknown to Henri, I had ditched school all that week. But the way I saw it, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Well, who is it?"

He sighed, "Her name is Marie, but I know some people call her Rogue. Don't know much beyond that. You Pete?"

Pete shook his head, "I have her for algebra. She's smart."

I smiled. Smart huh? This would be fun.

I got up and left my two confused looking friends in my wake. I went up to the two girls sitting at the other end of the seats. I was in front of the two of them before Bobby and Pete could register what was going on.

"Hey, Kitty," I said friendly as I leaned on the rail in back of me. She looked up and her blue eyes sparkled.

Kitty and I weren't exactly friends. But we've known each other our whole lives. When we were in grade school, I would get in trouble almost every other day for pulling her pigtails. But the presence of a familiar face always made her blue eyes dance.

"Oh hey Remy," she said. (You can tell we weren't close since she called me Remy instead of Rems.)

"Well, Pete," I started to lie, "wanted to talk to you about something. There's like a dance coming up right?"

Kitty nodded and began to smile. She had a boyfriend, but they were constantly on and off again. And I could tell she liked Pete, even if she couldn't. Besides, her the on and off boyfriend, Lance, was a total square.

"Oh," she said and her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink, then she turned to her friend and said, "I'll be right back, Rogue."

She left and I sat down in her vacant seat.

"I don't think we've met," I said, "I'm Remy Etinne LeBeau." I said lightly.

"Marie," she responded, "just Marie."

I didn't make a comment about the name Kitty had called her. Rogue. Must have been a name only her friends could call her. I was determined to be allowed to call her that, maybe.

"So, you new here?" I asked.

She nodded her head and kept her eyes on the screen. The credits to the movie were already starting, but I hadn't noticed.

"Then where you from?" I asked hoping to get her to talk.

"Mississippi." She said.

"Get out!" I said, "I'm from Louisiana originally. What brings out all the way to Bayville?"

I saw her eyebrows raise ever so slightly, "Do you think just because we're both Southern we're gonna be friends?"

I decided to pretend I didn't hear that.

"You, know, I could show you around sometime…" I started.

She shook her head and that caused me to stop mid-sentence, "If only you were as smooth as your hair you'd realize I wasn't interested."

My mouth stayed open. How could she not be interested in me?

"What," I asked.

"I've seen your kind before. They're everywhere." She said.

I began to take offense. I know, Greasers aren't supposed to care, but when someone says something like they're better than you, I can't help it. She didn't know me. She didn't know my life, and like hell I was going to take that.

"My kind?" I asked angrily, "You mean Greasers?"

She shook her head again, "No, I had some Greaser friends back in Mississippi. I'm talking about girl hunting players."

I was taken aback. She didn't know me, how could she…?

"Kitty's coming back," she said.

And sure enough Kitty was back.

"Thanks, Remy," she said, "I have a date for the dance on Friday."

I nodded my head. "Later Kitty," then I nodded my head to Marie, "Marie."

She nodded her head at me too. And then I saw a smile on her face, but I didn't understand it.

Greasers aren't supposed to care. Greasers aren't supposed to show emotions. But Marie touched me in a way. I'm not going to say it was love at first sight, but I was interested in a way I had never before been. As I watched The Young Philadelphians with my buddies, I wondered about school on Monday…

XXXXXXXXXXX

END CHAPTER! Now before I ask some questions to you guys, I want to say something, the next few chapters will be more like flashbacks from the other Greasers. I want all of them to have their own personalities and problems. If I make background stories for all of them it'll help with their side plots. Objections? (Real question there by the way) Socs will be introduced soon, and I have a little nickname for our beloved Jean =)

Alright, so tell me what you think, what I should do, and anything else in a review. Till next time, this is MisfitGirl13 signing off.