A/N: This is a repost of Something to Someone. It came to my attention that the previous posting of this joint story was taken down, without my knowledge, by the other author of this story. So at the request of others, I've decided to repost it gradually on a new account, since what you see was a collaboration of two versions of the chapters done by myself—whatcoloristhesky. I realize this is no longer a joint account, but I felt that it needed to have it's own account considering its history. I will probably end up adding on to it later on, but for now it will just be what had been previously posted. Since I was not the only author of this story, it's only fair that the other author—Human Atmosphere—gets her creds.
Disclaimer: Lit owns the title; Hinton owns The Outsiders.
Something to Someone
Friday - half weekday, half weekend. Oh, how I hated that first half, that half weekday part. It was slower somehow than all the other weekdays, but maybe that had something to do with the other half of Friday - the half weekend part. I suppose I would loathe any other day of the week just as much if it were split in half like Friday, but that's not how they made it. Nope, they just had to make it Friday.
I had my justifications for hating the day too. Math was my last period and the eighty year old teacher droned on until the very last second, right up until the bell sounded and we were dismissed. Matter of fact, he was doing it again - droning on and on without stop, and on a Friday, no less. There was a minute left...
"Now, who can figure out the slope of line D?"
Fifty seconds left...
"Anyone?"
Forty-five seconds left...
"... Anyone?"
Silence and a single cough answered him. I straightened my already closed and neatly stacked books, leaned forward, and brought them closer to me. C'mon bell, I thought, ring already. Only thirty seconds left...
"I realize it's a Friday, but Math is an important subject..." There he went, off into his over-used, much tired out schpeel on why we should pay attention in Math. He had a droning, monotone voice really, and if it weren't for the fact that there was a mere fifteen seconds left, I would have been asleep already.
Ten seconds left...
I gripped my books tighter to chest and got ready to bolt out of the classroom. Five ... four ... three ... two ...
I bolted out of class the second the bell sounded and weaved through students to get to my locker; I wanted out of school. It was even in sight when I collided with shoulders with one of the socy cheerleaders. The bitch didn't even make eye contact with me or mutter an apology; she just kept on her way as if nothing had happened.
I rolled my eyes and continued towards my locker.
"I saw that back there. Bitch thinks that just 'cause she has money and shakes pom-poms that it makes her better than us. That whore's gone all the way with that Bobby kid a year up from us." Angela Shepard leaned against the locker next to mine, one book in hand.
I rolled my eyes and snorted, "Oh, like you haven't."
She smiled guiltily and pushed my arm playfully. "Hey listen, I heard there's gonna be a party over on Cherryview later tonight. You should check it out - I am."
"I'll think about it. I don't know if I have anything to wear, though."
She shrugged. "See you later then, I guess."
"Later."
Truth was, I was already planning what to wear in my head. I gave Angela that excuse every single time; we were friends, but not best friends. It was weird though, to anyone else, we were two of a kind. Both small with curly, black hair and light eyes, older brothers in a gang, and greasy girls to the core. To us though, it was the minor differences in the similarities that kept us from being the best of friends.
"Hey Amber, wait up!"
I stopped and rolled my eyes; the darn kid was always trailing me. "Hi Sophie...," I greeted, a bored tone in my voice.
"What's the matter, aren't you happy to see me?" She giggled and I fell into step with her. "Are you going to any parties tonight, Amber?"
I nodded. "Don't I always?"
She smiled wide. "Ooh, are you going with a boy? What are you going to wear? What -" I cut her off.
"No and I don't know. Don't you have to be getting home Sophie?
"Well... I don't have to be home until dark. And besides, no one'll be home to tell me to come home, and, and, can't I go to the party with you?"
"Sophie Mathews! You're eleven ... gosh kid ... wait 'til you hit puberty at least." She pouted in silence for another five minutes until we arrived at her house. "Well, here we are. This is your house, Soph."
"Don't you think I know my own house by now?"
"Sophie..."
"Can't I at least help you pick out what to wear?"
"Another time, okay?" She smiled and hugged me tightly. I patted her on the back and told her, "Now scoot, get in the house."
"Gary, I'm home," I sang as I opened the door to my room. Gary the goldfish stared back at me blankly, as if to say, congratulations - where's my food? "Oh, I'm getting it, I'm getting it. Hold your tail fins, Gary." I pinched out an amount of food and dropped it into the water, smiling as he swam towards it immediately. "Such a good fishy," I cooed and threw off my jacket, rubbing my hands together and shivering slightly.
Boy, am I ever going to freeze tonight, I thought as I looked in my mirror and ran a hand through my wind-tangled hair. I listened for sounds of my parents or half-brother - nothing. I could take a shower without getting in trouble for wasting water.
It took me a while to get ready. I got out of the shower at four thirty, took an hour to pick out an outfit, a half hour to eat some dinner, another hour to do my hair, and quite a while to get my make-up just right. The party wouldn't start for a while yet - the best parties never did, so I grabbed my purse and headed for Angela's. It would kill time and I knew from experience that it was better to arrive with someone rather than no one. Let's just say, Steve had a few words with a couple of boys the next night.
Angela's house on a Friday night - devoid of brothers and full of screams. I went up to the door and knocked loudly, making sure I was heard. Another screeching voice added to the mix - Angela.
"Hey," she greeted airily as she opened the front door. Her eyes traveled up and down my body, taking in my appearance. She smirked. "I see you decided to go to the party."
"When have I ever not gone?" I replied with a devious smile and flipped my hair over my shoulder, following her up to her room. The floor was covered with skirts and low-cut tops, make-up brushes and hair things - the obvious makings of a night out.
"Tim's got one of his gang taking us there. Said something about not trusting us to actually show up at the party. If anything, it'll make getting a Bryon all the more fun. Nothin' like having a boy have to fight for your attention." She flipped through a magazine casually.
"Has he even given you the time of day? I could've sworn he had a girlfriend"
"Of course he has. All the high school boys love me," she replied and flipped her hair, smiling proudly.
"Yeah, they really love you, Ang." Geez, she must have slept with at least seven or eight different boys by now. Most were repeats, some were boyfriends, and one was a fluke - I don't think she even caught his name.
"Shut the hell up," - she playfully threw her magazine at me - "I think our ride is here."
"Yeah?" She peered out the window and opened the blinds to show me. "Let's cut out then."
Ten o'clock rolled around and I was on my second beer, the party in full swing.
Our "bodyguard" was flirting mercilessly with the two of us, getting our drinks each time we finished something off and copping a feel any chance he could get.
Bryon walked up behind Angel and whispered in her ear, "Hi Angela."
She smiled and turned around, pressing herself into him. "Hey Bryon." She traced a seductive finger across his cheek and down his chin, pouting slightly while maintaining her flirtatious demeanor. "Dance with me?"
He smirked and pulled her away, into the crowd of people. Our "bodyguard" took that to mean that I was his for the night and pulled me onto the dance floor as well, grinding our bodies together to the beat of the music. I pressed my forehead into his and smiled - he wasn't bad looking.
We kept at it for a while - dancing that is - but settled down by the time Angela followed Bryon upstairs. "Bodyguard" boy went to get us more drinks and I leaned against the wall, waiting for his return. That was when I saw him - smoking a cigarette, better-looking than anyone in the room. I wanted to know his name, his kisses - his everything.
He walked outside and I abandoned my spot and walked out after him, intent on using the excuse to bum a light.
His back was turned when I found him. I quickly used the opportunity to adjust myself so that I looked good and pulled out a cigarette. "S'cuse me, you wouldn't happen to have a light, would you?" I asked, sidling up to him.
He looked down at me, being about five foot ten or so, and smiled as he struck a match on his zipper and held it up to my cigarette, lighting it for me. "You got a name, baby?" he asked, taking a drag on his cigarette. Golly, he was cute.
"Maybe," I replied and leaned against the railing, giggling.
Please review!
