Disclaimer: I still don't own The Outsiders


Well, that was a first. For someone who claimed he couldn't dance, Steve did better than okay. If you count getting split up by one of the chaperones, as doing okay. I'm not sure that we totally qualified as lewd conduct, whatever the hell that is exactly. I thought we were just dancing. Kind of.

Anyway, we were told to sit the next one out.

Sodapop and Sandy reappeared. We hadn't seen them on the dance floor and by the state of her hair I figured they'd been practising a little of their own lewd conduct somewhere. She grabbed my arm and marched me off to the restrooms. Given that the dance was in the gym, this was the girls' locker room. Never my favourite place, even when I was in school; I probably held the record for ditching just about every sporting activity.

There were a few other girls milling about, no one I recognised.

I lit up a weed while she attacked her hair in front of the mirrors. She kept a surprising variety of combs and brushes in that little purse.

"So?" Sandy grinned at me.

"So?"

"C'mon Evie, I didn't do that bad, did I? Soda says Steve likes you."

"You had time to talk?" I mocked.

She pulled a face at me, but then she smiled - like the cat who got the cream and a freshly killed bird to dip in it. "He's so fuckin' tuff. He kisses like a dream."

"Why, I do believe I heard that somewhere before. Hold on..." I pretended to scan the walls of the locker room, "...yup, over there and...there...and...oh nah, that one's about the size of his dick, not how he kisses. Wait, do you have a pen on you? You could add tonight's rating."

She started laughing, despite trying not to. She motioned for me to share the cigarette, talking between drags.

"Don't care what you say. There won't be no more updates after tonight."

I looked at her carefully. Goddamn, I thought, she's serious. "You are taking the One Night King off the market?"

"Done deal, babe." She smirked. "He don't know what hit him."

I took the weed back and set about finishing it, impressed with her confidence. She always did like getting her own way. We used some vodka as mouthwash and turned to leave.

A group of girls were just coming in. Jackie lookalikes, all of 'em, I half expected them to have little white gloves on. Judy Milton at the centre, like the Queen Bee she was. We strolled past. They sneered.

"Did you see the exhibition out there?" One of them said, not exactly quietly. "Disgusting. I thought they were actually going to do it."

"Oh, I imagine that's already happened," Judy said in an airy voice, provoking a chorus of delightedly shocked giggles. "I imagine you could already find filthy fingerprints on her underwear."

I stopped.

"I mean," she continued as they crowded around the mirrors. "Did you ever see Steve Randle with clean hands?" They found that hilarious.

I turned around.

Sandy glanced at me. "Evie..." she warned quietly.

"Let me get this straight." I marched back over to Judy. The drones had the sense to step back a little. "The funniest thing about me gettin' it on with a guy is that he knows how to work for a livin'? God forbid one of your candyass limpdicks should get his hands dirty."

She looked at me in complete shock, as if one of the lockers had up and spoken to her.

Sandy pulled me away. "Don't sweat it, Evie, c'mon, let's go back." We got as far as the door.

Judy did one of those fake coughs that don't really disguise the words. "White trash," she said quietly, in her cut glass voice.

She didn't have time to react as I launched myself at her, slapping her real good. One of the drones screamed.

Give her her due, Judy recovered quickly, grabbing my hair hard. Maybe she had sisters. I was at a disadvantage because she had to be at least five seven, but I rammed myself into her, shoving her back against the nearest locker. At least she had long hair, so I discovered I could reach it. More screams.

It was over before it began really. One of the teachers must have heard the noise because we were pulled apart. The bees were straight away buzzing over their version of events. I figured I'd better book it.

Sandy arrived at a run with Soda and Steve, as I was straightening out my top.

"What the fuck happened?" Steve asked. Soda was craning his neck, looking in the open door behind me.

"Shit, my purse." I looked around. Sandy darted into the locker room and retrieved it.

"I think we should get out of here," she said, "Thompson's getting an earful from the rich bitches."

We hit the parking lot at a run, climbing into the car, laughing as Sandy made it sound like I'd gone three rounds with Cassius Clay.

"What d'ya wanna do now?" Soda asked, his arm draped over Sandy's shoulders. We all looked at each other and shrugged.

"Dairy Queen?" Steve asked me, "Get some ice on your face?" I put my hand up to my cheek, only just realising why it was stinging.

"Shit. Is it bad?" I asked. He angled my face towards the street lamp.

"Nah, just a scratch."

"I gotta go to work in the morning!" I tried to look in the rear-view, but the light was wrong.

"So? I been to work plenty of times after a fight." He smirked, turning the key over.

"Asshole," I muttered, but not with any real feeling. He smiled. And so did I.

XXX

It was pretty quiet, not surprising given that most of the usual clientele were probably at the dance. Not empty though. Two-Bit Mathews whooped a greeting at us as we went in, so I suppose we had no choice but to go over to where they were all sitting. Soda and Steve dragged a table and four chairs over to their booth.

"Christ alive, we gotta put up with you clowns an' all? What I gotta do to get a little privacy?" Dallas griped, his arms tightening around Sylvia. I had no idea if he was serious or not. The only thing I knew about Dallas Winston was to stay away.

Sylvia slapped his hand off her chest. "Fuck off down to Buck's, get all the privacy ya want," she snapped at him, motioning for Sandy to sit near to her.

"Maybe I will." He hissed at her. She gave him a level stare. He put his hands behind his head, leaning back on the seat and glared at her. She turned her back on him, whispering to Sandy.

I was torn between going to the restroom to check out my face and leaving Sandy with Sylvia. In the end, I decided I had to see how bad I looked. It was actually pretty unimpressive, the red around the scratch was fading already. I figured I'd be able to hide it under make up for work, that was the important thing.

When I got back to the booth, Cokes had appeared and they'd obviously been talking about me because Two-Bit greeted me with a sly, "Hey, slugger!" as I sat next to Steve. It was the only seat left.

"Wish I'd been there." Sylvia grinned. "I'd've been right behind ya, I hate that Judy Milton."

"You hate everyone," Dallas added, matter of factly.

"If they give me reason." She eyeballed him meaningfully again. He smiled lazily. I figured this was foreplay for them.

Steve fished an ice cube out of his drink and balled it in a couple of napkins. He handed it to me without a word, continuing his conversation with Soda. It actually felt kind of soothing on my cheek.

"So how was the dance, before the fireworks?" Two-Bit asked, "I assume me n' Johnny ain't going over there now." The dark haired kid next to him shrugged, like he didn't care one way or the other. I knew who they were, without knowing them, if that makes sense. Hell, I reckon everyone in school must've had Two-Bit in one class or another at some time, he seemed to have tried everything at least once.

Soda was telling him about the band, apparently they knew one of the guy's brothers or something.

"Was this before or after the Pocket Rocket exploded in the locker room?" Two-Bit wisecracked. I scowled at him. "Hey, I'm just sayin'," he continued, "you must've been punchin' above your weight, Little Miss Dynamite." He did not just go there, I thought.

"Oh! Am I short?" I exclaimed, in a amazed voice. "You're the first person to ever notice! No one ever thought to comment on it before..." I put my hand over my mouth in an exaggerated gesture of shock.

He stared, worried, for just a second as I kept my face straight, then I slowly lowered all but my middle finger, rotated it at him and smiled sweetly. Two-Bit burst into laughter, slapping the table. "I like her," he said, "she's a keeper, Randle."

"And I am considerably taller than Brenda fuckin' Lee," I added to the general conversation. Just to get it clear.

"What I really wanna know," Sodapop said, with one of his trademark grins, "...is what exactly it said about me on the wall in the girls' locker room." They all exploded into laughter and catcalls and Steve threw the soggy napkin that had contained my ice cube at him. "I definitely saw my name," Soda protested.

"Well, that's a lie, right there, 'cause everyone knows you can't read for shit," Dallas said slyly. Soda bristled and they got into some of that "Oh, yeah?", "What ya gonna do about it?" facing off idiocy that guys do between themselves, but Soda lost interest when Sandy tugged on his hand and whispered in his ear. He chuckled and put his arm around her.

"Maybe I'll let ya find out later if it's true." I heard him whisper to her. She just smiled and leaned in to him. His other hand went to her hair. I started to think that maybe her aim to pin him down might not be so unrealistic. I also noticed Sylvia paying attention to them, out the corner of her eye. Dallas's hand was creeping back around her waist. This time she seemed inclined to let him do it.

Two-Bit stretched theatrically and nudged Johnny. "C'mon, bud." He clicked his teeth. "I see where this evening is heading." He slid out of the booth, squeezing past Steve and me. "Let's leave these healthy young people alone with their hormones." Johnny blushed, swear to God, he blushed. I never saw a guy do that before. He stood there with his hands in his jacket pockets, as Two-Bit made arrangements to meet Sodapop over the weekend, and he never looked directly at me, Sandy or Sylvia.

So then we were left with the empty half of the booth. It was on the same side as Steve and I, but Soda was obviously itching to take possession.

Steve looked at me, like he was deciding something. He stood up. "I'mma go outside for some fresh air," he said. I waited a beat, but it seemed like that was all the invitation I was getting. Sandy was shooting me significant looks, practically nodding her head like Lassie to tell me to go. Aw, what the hell, I thought. I stood up.

"Evie," Sylvia said in an innocent tone that didn't suit her. "You don't got a steady guy, do you?"

I gave her a look. She knew damn well I didn't.

"Only," she continued, toying with the straw in her glass, "some people can be awful hypocrites, so I thought I'd better check." Her eyes rested on Steve, just for a second.

"The fuck..?" I started, thinking she was calling me a hypocrite, but Steve grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door.

"She ain't talkin' about you," he growled, so only I could hear.

Once we were outside, he dropped my hand. We went around to the side of the building, where we couldn't be seen from their booth.

"What's the deal with you and Sylvia?" I had to ask.

He was fumbling with a packet of Kools, but he didn't light the stick he took out. "She's a bitch," he said, shrugging.

"That's a given. And..." I prompted.

"An' I called her on it, an' she don't like it." He sounded evasive.

"An' the crack about bein' a hypocrite? That's a pretty big word for her to be throwing around."

He looked at me then, maybe the first time he'd really looked at me since we got there. I noticed he had really long eyelashes. I spend a fortune on false lashes, it don't seem fair that guys could care less and they can have great ones naturally.

"She fools around behind Dally's back." He was gauging my reaction.

"An' he doesn't do that to her?" I asked, cautiously. He ignored that.

"She tried it with Johnny when Dally was in the cooler."

"Johnny?" I was surprised. "He must've run a mile."

Steve shook his head. "I put him straight. Her too. He had no idea what she was draggin' him into." Something in the way he said it made things suddenly clear to me.

"Dallas know about you and Sylvia?" I asked him. His eyes went wide. "Ain't that what you're saying?" I said quietly. "Ain't that why you think she's a tramp and she thinks you're a hypocrite?"

He looked like he was going to deny it, then his mouth twisted into that half smile. "You're a very smart girl. An' now you got the means to put me in hospital, or worse, 'cause, no, I don't think Dally knows. Don't think I'd still be walkin' if he did."

I shrugged. "You better not cross me, then, since I have this valuable information." But I was teasing him and he knew it.

He nodded. "So, I should maybe keep tabs on you..." He put the weed back and the packet into his pocket. "Make sure I know what you're doin', that kind of thing..." He was very close now.

"How you gonna do that?" I asked, which was kind of redundant because he was already leaning down to kiss me.