Hey everyone! So here's a little intro into this one-shot series...I have another full length Outsiders story going on called "Sick Days" and while writing it I had this idea of doing one-shot "spinoffs" of things that happen in the story but wouldn't fit in with the text. For instance, in "Sick Days," it is mentioned that Soda and Steve used to goof off a lot in class. I couldn't write that entire story within my story but I figure some people would be interested in reading it. It will also give the reader an inside look into what happens "behind the scenes" so to speak. Even though these one-shots stem from something that is mentioned within my story I want to stress that you do not have to be reading "Sick Days" to understand these one-shots (although, I would love if you did). At the start of each one-shot I will tell you what chapter of "Sick Days" inspired the story. I'll also probably end up doing some random one-shots that aren't "spinoffs" (so if you have any requests please let me know in a PM). Without further ado...

"Some Soc do that to you Johnny?" Pony asked defensively.

"Nah, man. My dad just drank a little too much last night." Pony felt his heart sink.

-Chapter Three

Johnny sat in his room and looked at the bare wall before him. His room was no more luxurious than a prison cell – sometimes Johnny even wondered if that would be nicer. He could hear the distant sound of glasses being pulled out of the cabinet and then liquid being poured over crackling ice. He always started the night drinking from a glass but, before too long, he would just begin to take swigs of the liquid straight from the bottle. Johnny looked at his watch, a Birthday gift from Mr. and Mrs. Curtis a few years ago, and saw that it was barely three. His dad was starting early with the alcohol which only meant it was going to be a long night for him.

He looked down at the blank paper in his notebook. His entire English class was supposed to be writing a report on some old English play that involved two rival families and a lot of fighting. He hadn't even bothered to check out the book, he knew he would never have found time to read it and, if he was being honest, he really didn't want to. Stories written by old, dead people always bored him; there was nothing exciting about them. Instead he just asked Ponyboy about the play knowing that the younger greaser had read it for fun a few years prior. Johnny sat back in his chair, closed his eyes, and tried to remember everything he and Pony had discussed that night.

"What's so special about it?" Johnny had asked Ponyboy, "Why does everyone care so much about what some dead guy wrote hundreds of years ago?"

"You can learn a lot from history, Johnnycake." Pony had said as he laid down on his back and looked up towards the open sky, "The story is about us."

"What are you talking about, Ponyboy?" Johnny had followed the other boy's lead and laid perpendicular to him, their heads resting near each other. From what he heard about in class discussions the play was just about two kids who had fallen in love and suffered from a serious lack of communication.

"We're like the two families in the story – Greasers and Socs, you know? We've been fighting for so long but no one could really tell you what started it all. A lot of people say it's because of money but that ain't true. Money perpetuated the fighting, but something else had to have happened to begin all of this." Pony watched as a cloud moved over the moon causing her to momentarily disappear.

"What else happens in the play?" Johny had asked beginning to get very curious.

"Own families begin to fight with each other; the lives of these two groups quickly unravel until they are both left with nearly nothing. The funny thing is that the more they fall apart, the more they have in common. It makes you remember that everyone has trouble from time to time. Anyways, some people get killed because of the stupid rivalry, innocent people. It's not just a play – it's what we go through every day around here. People always fighting, it just keeps getting worse and worse. Nobody will mean for it to happen, but if the fighting doesn't stop, it's all going to end with people getting killed, innocent people."

"Like in the play." It hadn't been a question so much as it was a statement.

"Yeah, Johnny, just like it." Pony watched as a shooting star flew across the dark sky.

"Is there anything else I should know?"

"The two main characters fall in love, they're each children from one of the rival families – both born into a war they didn't start. They ain't too important though. I think they're only there to move the plot along but you probably shouldn't write that in your paper." Later that same night, Johnny asked to borrow Ponyboy's copy of the play and once he started reading it, he couldn't put it down. He stayed up until the sun rose that morning reading the text that mirrored his own life.

Suddenly, a crash from somewhere inside his house brought Johnny back into reality. He could hear his mother arguing with his father, I hate you, you know that? You're a good-for-nothing son of a bitch. Johnny looked down at his currently blank paper and scribbled his name up at the top – it was a start. His pen touched the paper's smooth surface once again and this time, he began to write. The next thing he knew he was already working on a closing paragraph.

"Johnny!" his dad yelled as he flung open the boy's door. A bottle of cheap liquor hung loosely in his right hand, he began to speak incoherently, "Johnny, you know that your mom is a floozy? She's slept with every single man in this neighborhood and their brothers."

The young boy had already heard the exact same speech several times before so he turned his attention back to the paper he was finishing up, "I'll teach you to ignore me!"

Johnny was suddenly pulled out of the chair he was sitting on and forcefully pushed to the floor; he could taste fresh blood in his mouth. Johnny's hands flew in front of his body trying in an attempt to shield himself. His father reared his leg back and kicked him in the stomach. Then he grabbed his son by the collar, pushed him hard against the wall, and punched him in the face.

"Don't you ever ignore me again! You hear me?" Johnny nodded silently as he refrained from moving too much. "What the hell are you even writing?"

His father ripped the page out of Johnny's notebook and quickly skimmed it over, he began to laugh; "Were you really going to turn this garbage in?" his father hiccupped as he took another sip of his cheap liquor. He laughed again and Johnny watched silently as his father took out a box of matches, struck one, and held it up to the essay. In a matter of seconds the paper began to slowly crumble and burn to ash. The older man threw the paper to the ground and left his son's room.

When he was sure that his father was gone Johnny quickly crawled over to the burning paper and stomped it out with his bare hands. He picked up the only legible piece left. The war going on in this play is nothing compared to the one in our own homes. We all face struggles, Greasers and Socs are nothing more than equals separated by circumstance, and if people could only see...

Thanks for reading everyone! Please check out "Sick Days" if you get a chance and please review letting me know what you think of this story. Don't ever hesitate to send me a one-shot request.