Disclaimer: I do not own the outsider or any of the characters except for Jenny. The rest belongs to S.E. Hinton

Chapter One

I took a seat on the train and stared out the window. It was going to be a long ride. I hated trains; they were filled with people with families and places to go, things to look forward to. I didn't have that. My dad was an abusive drunk and my mother ran out on us when I was young. My dad married a new woman who didn't seem to care about anything. I had left home when I was thirteen, following in my brothers footsteps, I stole my dad's money and gun and lived on the tough side of New York for years. I lived with some guy who was really tough but he put a roof over my head so I took what I could get. I got money wherever I could, I could never hold a steady job though. I mostly made bets and gambled. I got really good at poker, and at fighting. I had to learn how to stand up for myself, but those first few years were horrible, I was jumped all the time and raped twice, but I got over it... eventually. Any other girl would be haunted for life, but something in me gave me the strength to move on.

I was headed to Tulsa, Oklahoma. I had recently gotten out of reformatory school and had nowhere to go. After sleeping on the street for what seemed like the millionth time, I decided I was sick of it and looked my brother up. I hadn't thought about him in a long time. I blamed him for a lot of the things that happened to me at first.

When I was ten, I woke up in the middle of the night and heard him moving around. I went to see what he was doing and after watching from around the corner for a while I realized he was getting ready to leave. He was twelve; he had gotten fully dressed, took dad's money and his gun and was ready to go.

"Where are you going?" I asked in a small voice.

"I'm leaving and I'm not coming back, I won't put up with this anymore so I'm getting out." He whispered, plain and simple. I couldn't believe it. He was just going to leave me here, with an abusive father. My brother was the only thing keeping me sane in the house, he was the only thing that mattered to me, and he was just leaving.

"Take me with you." I asked. I knew he would say no, but I had to try. He couldn't just desert me.

"No." And he turned to walk out the door. I ran up behind him and hugged him. I realized this could be the last time I saw him. He turned to face me and wiped away my tears, then pried my arms off him.

"I love you." I whispered to him, he looked me in the eyes and held my face in his hands. He kissed the top of my head then turned and walked out the door. I hadn't seen him since, I also have not said I love you to anyone else in my life, and I don't think I ever will.

Dads beat me for a week straight after that. He was upset about being robbed and took it out on me. I couldn't care less. I just sat there, numb, and took it. I hated him, I hated my dad and my brother for leaving me with him, I hated my life. When I turned thirteen I did what my brother did and never looked back.

I sat looking out the window and thinking, ugh, another reason I hate trains, too much time with your thoughts. I wondered if my brother would be anything like me. I had hated him for years after he left, but after I turned fourteen, I realized I really couldn't blame him, I had done basically the same thing, and I don't know if I would have survived another year in that house. I didn't know how my brother had turned out, but I did know how I was.

I was tough... really tough. I didn't look it though. I had long blond hair and the same ice blue eyes as my brother. I had an hourglass body and looked harmless, but I defiantly wasn't. In New York, girls in the neighbourhood knew not to pick a fight with me, they wouldn't win. Most the time a fought guys, in self defence or because they called me something, and half the time I won. I wasn't as strong as them but I could throw a hard punch and deke anything that came my way. I had an extreme temper; no one told me what to do or raised their voice at me without consequences. No one could control me, not many dared to try. Other than being a bad-ass, I was a heart breaker. I looked good, which caught most guys eyes, then my independence made them want me to be theirs... but that would never happen. I was my own person, I belonged to no one. I didn't believe in monogamy-why should I stick to one guy when there are so many out there? Don't get me wrong, I am no whore. I didn't just go around sleeping with guys at parties. I got to know the guy first and if we had fun together then I would keep him around, none of my guys were there just for sex, I could talk to them too. My type was typically bad, just like me, because they were the only ones that could handle me. I wasn't purposefully making them 'fall in love' with me, they just did. I would warn them too, when we first met I usually let a guy who was diggin' me know that I was not good for him, I would cheat on him, and he should probably stay away if he wanted to stay the rock-hard guy he was. Unfortunately that usually made them want me more, but at least when it was over I could defend myself and say I gave him fair warning.

The train stopped. I picked up my bags and stepped off. I took a look around and a deep breath. This was it. I was going to find my brother. The only person I had ever said 'I love you' to. The only person I had ever cared about. The person who had deserted me when I was ten. I was going to find Dallas Winston.