A/N: S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination. This was inspired by a Jackie DeShannon song of the same name. Seriously, check it out. It's great. Hey, would you look at that? More Steve! I wonder if this is a trend. Enjoy! Let me know if you'd like more of this story, I'm torn between keeping it a one-shot and expanding it.
'When the cat's away, the mice will play.' I never thought much about sayings like that till Sylvia started hangin' around. She was just like one of them mice, her grabby little claws always reaching for a new piece of cheese. Dally hadn't even been in the reformatory a couple weeks yet, before I noticed her makin' eyes at me. She was a knockout- wavy brown hair, eyes like weak tea, an hourglass figure, and long, lean legs. Bright red lipstick was her color of choice, and it looked fine as wine on her. She had the mouth and skin to pull it off, not to mention the attitude. When she spoke, her voice would wheedle and purr, with a sorta raspy quality to it that I dug. My only complaint was how clingy she got. That got old real quick.
"Come on, honey, please? I just want one." Sylvia pleaded, yet again, for a kiss which I wasn't about to give her. Can't say I wasn't tempted, though. I bet her lips would've been soft.
"No, look, if you keep askin', I'll make you go on home. I'm only here with you 'cuz you're Dally's girl and I thought you was lonesome. Now would ya cut that out? I wanna watch the movie." I shoved her gently away, but she grabbed my arm with a grip as sticky as honey.
"Please, baby? I ain't Dally's gal no more, he left me; remember?" her finger softly grazed me below my chin, and I shifted in my chair, biting my lip.
"No. Stop it, Sylvia, you're Dally's girl, and we both know that. He's gonna kill either one or the both of us if we get mixed up together. Settle down now, and watch the film; it's gettin' real interesting." It wasn't, but I tried to lose myself in it anyway. There was no way in Hell I'd let her get her way. Not when she was Dally's girl.
We finished the movie after what felt like forever and a day, and I left the theater with Sylvia hanging on my arm like an ornament on a Christmas tree. "Quit that, pussycat! You're smotherin' me." I tried shaking her off, but it was useless. She was holding on for dear life, it seemed, and wasn't about to let go.
"I bet you liked me better'n that stupid film, Johnnycake. You kept glancing my way, I saw you." She simpered.
"No, I wasn't." I lied. I had looked, but her skirt was so damn short and tight, it was hard not to. Those fishnets looked real sharp on her, too. I wouldn't let her know how much I actually wanted to kiss her. I couldn't, she was Dally's girl. I kept repeating that to myself as we walked home. Her heels clicked against the pavement, drowning out my soft shuffling, and her nails kept stroking my earlobe. I swallowed hard. It was gonna be difficult to keep on denyin' her advances. She was fine, after all, and one of the only chicks who'd ever really paid me any mind.
Her laugh was like autumn leaves on concrete, but I was strangely attracted to it, all the same. When she started in on the back of my neck, I almost lost what little self-control I still had. It was all I could do to shrug her off. "Now, really, Johnnycake, play nice, would ya? I only want one teeny-tiny little kiss. Please?" Her breath was soft against my cheek as she laid her lips there. "Now it's your turn, babe."
"No, Sylvia, I can't." We'd reached the park, and she forced me to sit down on a bench. "You ain't my girl." The more I said it, the less I believed it. She was right here in my lap, and Dally was locked up in the reformatory. Surely one kiss wouldn't hurt. I stifled a moan as she laced her long fingers through my hair and wrapped around me like an octopus. "Hey, quit it! I don't want-" But I did want it. Nobody had ever given me anything like this before, and deep down, I wanted every last second of it.
"Yeah, I know you want it, Johnnycake. You wanna kiss me. Your skin's so soft, much nicer than Dally's." Oh, no, she's Dally's girl! I thought, the mere mention of his name bringing me abruptly out of whatever spell she'd had me under.
"Git off me, you're Dally's girl, Sylvia! I can't kiss you, and you know it."
"Don't be mean, Johnnycake! I only wanted one, that's all." She pouted, oblivious to Steve, who was coming up the road at a dog-trot.
"What's goin' on here, Sylvia?! Ain't you got somewhere else to be?"
"Well, Johnny and I went to see a movie, and things got a little-"
"I don't care! You git on outta here, and don't let me ever catch you hangin' around Johnny anymore! If I even think you're at it again, I'll beat the ever-living tar outta you, got it?" Steve's eyes were cold and hardened in his anger. He scared me when he got like this. I wiped unsuccessfully at her lipstick stain on my cheek.
"I got it, I got it. No need to tell me twice, Stevie. I think I'll just go on home now; bye, y'all." She gave me a little wave and a smile before turning toward the direction of her house.
"You better scat, pussycat!" We waited till she left, then he started in on me. "Now, what in blue blazes were you thinkin', Johnny?! Sylvia ain't the type of kitten you wanna get involved with. You should know better!"
"I wasn't thinking real clear; she wanted to kiss me, and she's just so pretty. Dally's gonna be mad at me, isn't he?"
"Not as long as you stay the Hell away from her. That bitch is a two-faced cheat and a liar, and I don't want you gettin' hurt. Chicks like her are crafty little foxes, and they'll use everything in their power to make sure you ain't thinkin' with the right head. Those broads start by buttering you up, then they suffocate you, and throw hissy-fits when they don't get their way. Then, once they're finished with you, they'll toss you aside like a used up dishrag and run on to the next poor cat. Is that what you want, Johnnycake?"
"No. She's just so pretty."
"Well, that's all she is. A pretty face with a heart of ice and nice gams. Don't you fall for that bullshit, you dig? You stay the Hell away from chicks like that. They ain't a lick of good. Just look at what she's done to Dally."
"I dig." I didn't make eye contact with him, even though I knew he was just worried about me. I couldn't scrub away the feeling of her nails on my earlobe, lips on my cheek, or fingers on my neck, no matter how much I tried that night. Sylvia sure has a real funny way of sticking to people. Just like honey. I'd stay away from then on, there wasn't a snowball's chance that I'd get mixed up with a girl like her again. Girls like Sylvia are more trouble than they're worth.