Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders or any of the characters from The Outsiders. The same rule goes for the first chapter; I just forgot to write it there.
A/N: Wow, my first fanfic, and I already have three reviews? You can only imagine how happy that made me when I logged on. Thanks to those who reviewed, and sorry this is so overdue. I did not get a chance to post this because I came with my dad on a trip, so please forgive me. Hope you enjoy this next chapter.
Johnny walked for a while, until he got to a convenient store that had closed at nine o'clock. He peered into the dark building through the window, spotting the cigarette rack just by the magazine stand. Turning on his heel, he kept going. His memory showed the small deli that stayed open late, along with the bar across the street from it. Having seen the horrible affects of alcohol at home already, Johnny had no desire to go into a bar, but he figured going to get something to eat would be safe enough.
There were not too many people on the street at that hour, but the greaser had always been more comfortable with less people. Johnny very rarely ever walked by himself anywhere, particularly in the daytime; mainly because there were so many people out that he was always scared the person standing next to him would be looking for a fight, or just in the mood to beat someone up. Sometimes he would go places with Ponyboy, or Dally, or even Two-Bit or Sodapop. It was always different with his friends around.
As Johnny neared the small building, with the lights all on inside, he came to a small surprise. It was not empty, as he had assumed it would be, but it was close to it. There were four other people inside. Two of them were sitting together, and the other two were seated in opposite ends. Johnny's mind began to race, and he almost broke out in a cold sweat. What would he rather do; stay to get something to eat and risk sitting with total strangers in one side of the deli, or risk sitting next to someone he knew but had no desire to run into alone at this time of night? Or maybe he should just head on back to the lot.
Johnny's legs began moving before he had decided what to do. The bell rang as he pushed the door open, and Johnny cursed himself inside his head. He prayed that no one would glance his way. Trying to make himself look tough was useless; he was weak from exhaustion and hunger, and the previous happier mood he had been in was replaced with a melancholy feeling when he had peered into the deli. Johnny flipped his hair so that it covered most of his face, and then raised the collar of his denim jacket. As he approached the counter, he kept his eyes down.
"Hey there. Can I help you?" asked the woman behind the counter in a gravelly voice as she popped her gum.
"I'll just have whatever's cheap," Johnny mumbled, trying to keep his voice low. He did not have much money to spare, but he had not eaten in quite a while. He remembered that it was a school morning, and figured that he had about three hours to spare before he would have to be on his way.
"We've got bread," the lady said, with a bit of a cocky, sarcastic ring to it. She laughed at her own joke, and Johnny felt a few drops of spit hit his face, but would not let himself wipe them away yet.
"I guess I'll take it," he replied nervously. "I'll have as much as two dollars can buy…"
"I can get you a six-inch hoagie," the woman informed, a bit more seriously.
"That'll do it," said Johnny, taking a chance to glance around the room. There were many empty tables and stools across the deli to choose from, but he wanted to pick a seat that was just right. He would try to avoid the couple in the middle of the room, laughing and talking loudly. The boy was a few years older than he was, and probably twice his size. Johnny knew that sometimes guys would beat someone up just for, supposedly, looking at his girl. Then again, if Johnny sat on the left side of the room, he would be all alone with the other man over there. Johnny could have sworn he was part of the Shepards' gang, and it was impossible to tell if he had a blade underneath his thick, black leather coat. He looked real mean and tough, and Johnny had no desire to be facing him.
However, it seemed as if the other side would be just as bad to sit at. Johnny knew that his friend would never hurt him, be that did not stop him from feeling less than enthusiastic about sitting all alone with him, eating, with nothing to do but talk to him. Johnny was never much of a talker, and he would feel even shyer being the center of his buddy's attention. It would be downright impossible to sit anywhere near him without being noticed, and awkward being asked why Johnny did not want to sit with him.
Johnny sighed as he paid the deli worker behind the counter and collected his food. Then, as he turned around, he felt himself flinch as he heard, from the right side of the room, a familiar voice call out, "Johnny?"