Note, this story takes place about a year and a half before The Outsiders takes place. Thus, if we go with the canon of when the Curtis parents died, they are still alive, and everyone's around a year younger.

Diane shrieked in surprise, holding her arms above her head. "My mom is going to skin me! Are freak storms like this normal?"

Most of the greasers took off, presumably going home, except for Two-Bit and Dally. They didn't seem to be bothered much; they just ran under a tree. Diane joined them, feeling a little better under the little protection it gave. She exhaled slowly.

"But really, are these normal?" She asked, leaning against the trunk.

They shrugged. "It happens." Dally said.

"Hey," Two-Bit said, noticing Diane's tense appearance. "Need a cig?"

Normally, Diane would refuse. Her mother would tell her off first for getting wet, then the subsequent worry from being home late, and if she was caught smoking? She wouldn't live to tell the tale. But she decided against her better judgment. Even now, she was still angry with her circumstances. It would be the perfect revenge.

"Sure." She took it from him, putting it in her mouth like she saw on television. "Light me up."

From the first puff, she was coughing. The two laughed.

"You sure don't smoke often, do you?" Dally asked.

Diane tried to look cool. "Not really."

It took a few moments for her to get used to the taste of tobacco. Two-Bit and Dally had lit up ones of their own. "Don't suppose either of you know where I can call home from, do you?"

The fellow blonde shrugged. "I know a place. Hope you're not afraid of tough guys, country music, and beer."

She contemplated it for a moment. She'd never been in, what she assumed to be a bar before, but then again, it couldn't be that bad. She nodded.

As they walked, she studied the two further. Two-Bit was tall, a bit muscled, and had rusty hair. It reminded her of some family that visited from Ireland once. His sideburns were a defining feature, long and covering his cheeks. The rain didn't seem to mind him much, especially because it had quickly let up, but even so, the oily streaks of hair grease ran down his face.

Dally was much different. His hair, nearly white, didn't seem to have any grease, and simply clung to his head like a wet cat. He still didn't seem to mind it, though. He had a similar build, though he slouched more, with shoulders forward in an aggressive stance that he didn't need. His expression had enough intimidation itself. The gait was just icing on the cake. Holding her hands above her head, she attempted conversation with the much taller boys.

"So, uh, how old are you guys?"

"'M seventeen." Two-Bit stated, turning on his heel so that he was walking backwards.

"Sixteen." Dally said, not really paying attention.

Diane shrugged. "I'm sixteen too. I'm turning seventeen in June, though."

Two-Bit grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Do you even know where you're going? I mean, you won't trip or nothin'?" She asked.

"I've got a good idea. Haven't fallen yet."

She turned on her own heel, momentarily moving her arms to be out, wide for balance, and bit her lip at the wetness. It took her forever to get it hair-sprayed in place. She found it wasn't too hard to follow his lead in walking backwards, you just needed to make sure you didn't bump into anything.

They made it to the bar a few minutes later, soaked. Diane wouldn't hear the end of her distraught at her lateness or the ruining of her good blue dress.

"Oi," Dally leaned up on the counter, getting the attention of an older, dirty looking man. "Buck. You gotta room with a telephone open? I got someone who's gotta make a call."

The man referred to as Buck sized her up, and whispered something to Dally. Dally shook his head, said something quietly back. They conversed a bit, so she followed Two-Bit over to a few banged-up bar stools, as uncomfortable to sit on as she was feeling. He was chatting up a couple girls, smothered in make-up. Diane knew those types. She didn't talk to them much.

It was a couple more awkward moments until Dally came back, and gestured for her to follow him. It was up a flight of steps, and past a couple of rooms with doors closed, fortunately, and some noises that she wished she could forget forever. The room was generally clean, though some strewn about clothing showed the signs of life that periodically resided there. A phone sat on the desk on one wall.

She pulled out a slip of paper that her mother insisted that she carry around, holding the phone number of the distant cousins they were staying with until they could figure out a house somewhere nearby. It was picked up on the first ring.

"Diane?" It was the familiar, worried voice of her mother.

"Yes, mother?"

"DIANE CARTER DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I'VE BEEN WORRYING? IF I COULD REACH THROUGH THIS PHONE I WOULD-"

"Mom," She interrupted. "I'm fine. I just walked to the park, it started to rain, and I'm safe. I met a couple of guys, they're letting me use their phone."

"You met boys?"

Oh no. Wrong thing to say. "No, I meant to say that-"

It was Mrs. Carter's turn to interrupt. "I don't care what you meant young lady. I've been waiting at the phone for forty five minutes! I didn't know what happened to you! You could've been mugged, or kidnapped, or murdered, or worse!"

"But I wasn't. And it's still technically within the hour after sundown. I called. I'll hitch a ride home, I'll think of something, stop worrying."

"I can't stop worrying. It was raining, you should've come straight home. I... I don't know how I should punish you... if I even should. Sweet heart... I know it's been hard for you..."

Diane sighed. "Mother, it's okay. I don't need 'the talk' again. Yeah, it's hard, but I'm pulling through. I'm sorry for worrying you. We can have this talk tomorrow. You're tired; I'm tired, neither of us can think straight. I'm hanging up the phone now, okay? I'll see you soon."

"Alright. But please be soon. I... I'll see you soon. I'll tell Peter to unlock the back door. Goodbye."

Diane hung up the phone. "Alright, she's cooled down." She told Dally, who stood in the doorway. "I think I know how to get to my place from here. We pass by here on the way to the store."

She followed him back down the hall. He turned his head back to her while going down the stairs. "She's gotta pair of lungs, your old woman."

"I guess. She's just concerned."

"Lucky you."

She would've added to the short conversation, but at that point, it was way too loud in the bar area. A fight had broken out over something stupid, and everyone was cheering and crowding. It took a few good minutes to locate and drag Two-Bit from the fray, and later, not much longer to get back home.

Diane was asleep when her head hit the pillow.