DISCLAIMER:: I own nothing but Cassidy Rose. The Outsiders and most of their mannerisms belong to S. E. Hinton.

I popped a piece of fried chicken in my mouth, drizzling melted butter all over my pasta. Both of which, for the record, I made myself. Everyone seated at the table (well, everyone normal for a Tuesday night,) gave me a real odd look.

"So I see putting things with eyes in your mouth again ," Darry chuckled. I went through this phase…hell, I go through a lot of phases, but apparently the hippie thing was my worst. Sodapop chuckled,

"According to Dally Winston, she's been putting things with heads in her mouth, too."

I turned the brightest shade of crimson anyone ever did see. Stevie Randal slapped my stupid foster-brother five, but I just slapped him about the face.

"You take that back, Sodapop Patrick Curtis!"

He just continued to laugh his little pretty ass off. He got under my skin a whole lot, especially when he said dirty things that I did with my friends. Granted, half of it was true, but still. Every time someone beat their own record for saying something filthy and misogynist, I turned all red from the top of my chest to my hairline.

…Wait a second. You're probably wondering who I am. I, sir, am Cassidy-Rose Alexander Curtis. Terrible, horrible, no-good and very long winded name, if I can be frank. I have three brothers:

Darrel, the oldest, who we call Darry.

Sodapop, the middle one, who is handsome and gets pretty much whatever he wants.

And Ponyboy. The youngest, the sweetest, and my best friend.

Some people say it's strange to have a sibling be your best friend, but he is. I can tell him anything. I'm also friends with Johnny Cade, who is only one day older than I am (which I gotta say is pretty damn tuff.)

Another weird thing about my imitate family is that I'm the only one who knows I'm adopted. I actually think Darry does, and he's playing stupid, but other than that the other two are clueless. This is pretty darn funny, I think, since I look not only like our parents used to, plus nothing like anyone of them.

I'm heavy, for one thing. People tell me I'm not, but when your big brother weighs less than you, you start getting the hint. I have a nice waist, though, and nice boobs. My eyes are big and brown, and my hair is the same thing. Its long, but it sticks out like a rather-large afro in the morning. It's a funny kind of brown, with red in it. So maybe I do look a little bit like Ponyboy, in that aspect, but nothing else.

More things you should know about me…weeeeell…I'm pretty strange. Even for a greaser, I seem to be off my rocker. I have a few habits, and it's easier to list them than anything.

I suck my thumb. Before I'll reach for a cigarette out of nerves, my thumb will go in my mouth. I have no clue how or why this started, but I suck my thumb like crazy. Tired, nervous, hungry, frazzled…anything that isn't a wonderful emotion, I'll suck on my finger.

I have a baby-blanket attachment. I take it almost everywhere except school. When I stay over a friend's house, I take it. When I go over someone's house just to shag up, I take it. And the best part is, it isn't even mine. It was Sodapop's blanket when he was really little, but I just took a liking to it.

I have nightmares about chickens…yeah…

This one is the oddest of them all. I have some pretty strange relationships. My "friends" (not including Pony or Johnnycake) are my "partners". Even girls. I think girl lips are better than boy iips, not including Dally Winston's (which you could argue are pretty feminine). It isn't something that I can shout from the roof tops, true, but I'm comfortable.

And…5…

I've never fallen in, made or have been made to…love.