The Glass Passenger

Summary: To a greaser, a rep is everything. But unfortunately for him, nothing could be deeper and darker than the shadow his brother casts over him.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders. The rights to the Outsiders goes to S. E. Hinton.

Chapter II

School goes by awful quickly that day. It was one of those days that seemed to lug on forever, at least until you space out and then you end up in the last five minutes of the school day.

My last class was English. My teacher was real young and real laid back unlike most teachers. He says he'll treat us more like the way the college professors teach their students: "If you didn't do your work, then that's just it - too bad for you because I really couldn't care less if you fail."

I wondered why they treated the college students with more leniency than they do with us. Maybe it's because they're older, or something. I know Dad's always buggin' Steve about him going to college, even though we could barely afford it.

But Steve isn't like the rest of the family. Steve's handsome and good-lookin', much smarter than Mom said Dad was when he was in High School. He's even got himself a good job and has a rep known throughout the whole school.

Dad says that Steve probably comes from Mom's side of the family. When Mom was younger, she was very popular and was smart too. Dad was neither of those things.

How they got together? I have no idea. Thinking about it reminded me of how Mom always treated us like the college professors treat their students as Dad always treated us as secondary school teachers treated their students.

She's gone now, though. Maybe it's for the best, I wouldn't know. Mom and Dad don't tell me things like they tell Steve even though we barely separated by a year and a half.

One thing I do remember is that a lot more people seemed to notice me and said hi - even people I don't know.

Once I bumped into this guy. He was about twice my size and had at least a gallon or two of grease in his hair. He looks at me, almost pissed off as something, but he instead asks me "Hey, ain't you Randle's brother?"

I nod at him.

"Oh." He seemed surprised, pleasantly surprised that is. He grins at me. "Give your brother a message for me, will ya? Tell em 'he's a real ass', okay?"

"Tell me something I don't know."

He laughs. "You're an alright kid, ya know that?"

"Thanks," I say dryly. I wait until he leaves before I mumble the words "Thanks for not asking me what my name was."

By the end of the day, I was much more concerned with the preceding nights more so than this school day. It's almost painful to try and strain my brain to recollect my thoughts.

I think I may have spaced out through half of last block. I was never smart kid as it is, so missing a class or two probably wouldn't mean a damn thing.

I decide not to take the bus home and walk home. I usually take the bus home, but there really isn't anyone there that I know so well.

"And there he is!" an cheery Alex exclaims as he approaches me with his well-polished car.

"Hey, what's up?" I say to him, a bit remotely.

I look up to see him smirking crazily at me. "What?" I ask.

He proudly shakes his head in an all too familiar way. "I can't believe the day has come."

Before I respond, he makes a gesture jerking the side of his head twice. I didn't quite get what he meant. "Well c'mon Dean, get yer lazy ass in here."

Once I get in, I give him a look. "So what are you talkin' 'bout?"

"You know exactly what I mean," he replies, not looking back at me.

With that being said, he confirmed my fears. "Oh, you ain't serious, are you?"

"Sorry to disappoint man, but I'm dead serious. You know what they're saying, Dean?"

"Do I want to know?"

"Hell yeah. They're saying how you beat the shit out of Brad and how you stole his girlfriend..." Alex kept on going, intensely excited. Alex was my best friend, but he was nothing like me. He was taller than me by a just less than a head, he was more muscular, had a distinct jaw line, and dark eyes. He, and a couple of other jocks at school have led me to believe that a dangerous grin, good looks, and spot in the football team was all you need make every other girl in the school's heart flutter. But even I know that that isn't the way things work - no matter how much it seems so.

"...and it's fuckin' rad, man." He finally stopped, I was only half listening to him. One thing about Alex though, he wasn't the sharpest tack in the box even though he did get pretty good grades.

"Great, just great." I sighed.

"Hey, what's up, man? You okay?" he asks, seeming to notice my current disposition.

"No, I'm not. I can barely remember a damn thing, I don't what's going on here." I try hard to hide the whine and pitiful-ness in my voice.

"Damn, really? What good is fuckin' some girl if you don't remember it?"

"Alex, really?" I ask, feeling a bit red. We were maybe two blocks from my house.

"Hey, I just sayin', that's all," he insists, trying to hold a more neutral position. But I knew him better than that. I think he really might be happy for me like my brother was, but knows he'll just have a much better time teasing me about it.

"You'll get through it, I'm sure." he added, trying to comfort me - I think. "Dean, it ain't so bad, man."

"And how's that?"

"Well, at least people will 'round school will know you're name other than being the kid brother of Steve Randle."

As much as I didn't want to admit it, he did have a point. Most of the people who approached me earlier today probably knew my brother, one way or another. "Thanks, Alex."

He then pulls his car up near my house. We say your goodbyes, but not without Alex looking around the neighborhood uneasily for a second or two.

I stalk off, not towards my house but to else where. I just realized that I had some unfinished business to take care of.