Author's Note: So I know this took a while, but I'm back. I'm not letting this one get away from me! Things were just crazy busy for a while.

So, ready for chapter two?

Happy reading! :)

XXXXX

Tim Shepard is a fuck.

Okay, that's a really harsh way to start this, I realize that. But he is!

The Shepards have been a regular commodity in the city of Tulsa and the surrounding area for as long as I can remember. Royalty in a sense; top of the food chain in our east-side web of scum. Seems that they're everywhere, screwing with shit and stirring stuff up. Even Angel (ironic, man, 'cuz she's anything but) has been chewing up guys' hearts and spittin' 'em out since she was in middle school. But really, though, it's Tim and Curly you gotta watch out for. Mostly Tim. Curly is really his little crony, his doppelganger. They're brothers, but seeing Tim and Curly Shepard together don't exactly make me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. I don't even feel that way when I see the Curtis brothers together, but seeing those two together makes me a little wary.

We all get into trouble, but the Shepards? They are trouble.

But who wants to talk about the Shepards, right? I don't wanna talk about the Shepards. Let's not talk about the Shepards, okay? Okay.

Let's talk about cars.

Steve and Soda are all about cars. I kinda am, too. Darry used to be. Pony is into them. So's Dallas and Johnny. The runts like to go fast, that's for sure. Before Soda got hurt, he used to be all about horses, but now he and Steve switch off in the driver's seat, and go up against anybody who wants to, anytime, anywhere. We'll be on the Strip, I'll be sitting in the back seat, working on a beer or chatting somebody up, when suddenly one of them will rev the engine…and we'll be off!

The car is crowded right now. I'm driving, Dallas is sitting next to me, and Steve, Soda, Pony, and Johnny are all crammed in the back. The amount of bitching coming from back there is immense. There's smoke everywhere, even with the windows completely rolled down, and it is loud! Christ, is it loud. I love it.

"Ponyboy Curtis, if you don't get your goddamn ass on your side and your feet right in goddamn front of you, I'll kick your ass! Dammit-"

"Steve, man, cool your jets! No one back here is comfortable, get off his ass, yeah?"

"You get off my ass-"

"Could you guys cut it out?"

"Johnny, this is important."

"Not really."

Dallas gives me a cool look as he sucks on his cigarette. I raise an eyebrow at him. Dallas don't always say much. He doesn't have to. But he was about to just then, and nobody would question him.

"Y'all shut your asses up!" He bellowed. "Goddamn. You've got the worst damn driver in Tulsa at the wheel, the last thing you should be doing is distracting him!"

"Yeah!" I agreed cheerfully. "If y'all ain't careful, we'll all end up splattered across the road."

"And if that happened, Darry would bring us back to life just so he could kill us all over again," Pony deadpanned.

"Aw, Pone, Darry ain't no witch."

"He sure ain't," Steve said. "Witches are hot. Like Samantha. Darry ain't hot."

"Amen," we chorused.

This was the last hurrah of the summer. School started tomorrow, and I was about to start junior year again. I should probably be graduated by now, but what's the fun in that? I like hanging around school. Ain't that funny? I don't know a whole lot of people who like school. Pony and Darry are good at school (though, what I remember from my days of schooling with Darry, is that there was a time there in high school where his mind was on a lot of other things, namely tits and football and beer). Steve is actually pretty good, too, when he wants to be. The rest of us? Naw. But that's fine! Soda knew he didn't like school, so he dropped out. Dallas knew it'd be a waste of his time, so he dropped out. Johnny does his best, so it's okay that he's been held back. Me? I just plain don't give a shit. I get my kicks in while I can until they kick me out. We'll wait and see if I graduate.

"Two-Bit- see that guy right there? See that car next to us?" Soda asked. He was practically leaning out the window. Steve growled.

"Aw, shit. Would ya lookit that. It's that fucker we saw at Buck's the other night. The one that got into a fight with Levon."

"Levon?" I repeated. "Shit! That pansy took on Levon Helm? That brick shithouse?"

"Ain't impossible," Dallas added smugly. "Helm is all talk."

I barked out a laugh. "Says you! To you, everyone is all talk. See, us sensible folk know that if you're gonna go toe-to-toe with somebody, the last guy you should do it with is Helm."

Dally rolled his eyes. "You're all pussies. If you really wanna talk about hoods you shouldn't be fightin', you at least gotta mention that Gonzalez kid. He's tiny, and always packin' something."

"Aw, the Mexican Jumpin' Bean!" Soda laughed. "Gonzalez- you shittin' me? Just cuz he's always packin'…what? Piece of chain? Busted piece of pipe? That don't mean he's dangerous!"

Gonzalez-or, as Soda has christened him, the Mexican Jumping Bean-was some guy who'd crossed the border a few months back, and he already had hisself a rep. I'll admit, he was tough. But I have six inches and thirty pounds on him- a midget with a blade don't exactly scare me.

"You wanna race 'im?" I asked, referring back to the car next to us. Steve shook his head.

"Naw, get him to pull over there. In that parking lot in front'a that diner."

I signaled for him to pull over, and I put my car in park. Pony and Johnny sat in the back, looking worried.

"Soda, who is that guy? All of 'em are socs…" Ponyboy trailed off, giving Johnny a look. They knew that if Soda and Steve were gonna start a fight, Dallas would jump in, and then by that point, there was nothing stopping me, so they were probably discussing telepathically whether or not they'd join or just sneak off and do something else.

Soda, Steve, and Dally were already out of the car. Pony's observation had fallen on deaf ears, and I took this as my cue to exit. The boys were standing toe-to-toe, Steve and this big soc. Soda and Dally were right behind him. I came up and leaned against Soda and lit a cigarette.

"What's this?" I muttered, trying to keep quiet. Soda smiled at me.

"This guy didn't just take on Helm- had his eyes on Evie, too. We'll call this Steve defending his honor."

"Ah," I nodded.

I recognized a few of them. Some of them I'd played in poker or had seen around at school. They weren't nothing special. Not so notable. The guy who seemed to be the leader, the one Steve was eyeballing, was Daniel Humphrey. The guy backing him was George Washburn. Hooboy. Were they big! Not as big as Helm, but I was damn sure they'd be a blast to fight. Had a feeling we were about to anyway.

"You piece of shit," Steve growled. "You were clearly pretty stupid to take on Helm, but then you outdid yerself by hitting on my girl!"

"Think the broad liked it, Randle," Dan said lowly, smirking. "A glimpse of what she could have, ya know?"

That did Steve in. He narrowed his eyes, those caterpillars above his eyes wiggling all over. I shot a look to Dallas. He had a real dangerous smirk on his face. Things had been bad between the East and West in the past, but things were getting downright crazy these days, and I think Dally liked it. We briefly made eye contact, and he nodded real slightly at me. I winked back. Sodapop was getting into position to fight. This would be good. I think we needed this.

"Like you'd ever give it to her," Steve spat, threw the first punch, and with that, it was on.

That big lump, George Washburn, was at least six-four, and had the bright idea to go straight at me. We're built about the same, but he's the starting point guard, and I guess all those drills and weights made him a pretty decent fighter, cuz he could sure pack a punch. I was kinda seeing stars, to tell the truth, but I was holding my own. I started laughing at one point, when I was able to get a few good hits to his jaw, that crack sound real satisfying, and just the whole ordeal getting my adrenaline pumping and all that. This was good shit. Dallas looked to be having the time of his life, best I could tell. I wondered for a second what Pony and Johnny were doing, but that's before someone started shouting.

"Cops! Fuckin' cops are comin'! Get the hell outta here!"

Suddenly, I could hear the sirens, and I guess everyone else did too, cuz it's like everyone and everything just stopped and all we could hear were those cop cars. Who called the cops? Whoever it was, I wanted to give 'em an earful.

I could hear sirens in the distance, and I saw Dally perk up outta the corner of my eye. He couldn't get arrested again. Next time he did, he'd likely be in for a good long time.

"Shit!" He barked. He ran his hand through his hair. They were getting closer. He glared over at the other guys. "Y'all better get the fuck outta here if ya know what's good for ya!"

Soda and Steve were leaning on each other, trying to get back to the car. Steve spit some blood outta his mouth and climbed in the back. Pony and Johnny were still sitting there. The bitching has probably already commenced.

"Hey, you two!" Soda called to us. "Let's go! Two-Bit, get off yer ass, let's go! Yer driving!"

I hadn't even noticed I was on the ground. Dallas gave me a hand up, and I held my hand to my head, as if that would get it to stop spinning.

"Where you goin'?" I asked him, it coming out all slurred.

"Anywhere but here, man! I'mma go hunt up some real trouble," he said, and winked before he ran off. I got into the driver's seat and pulled out the back entrance off the diner just as the cops pulled up.

All that had actually happened real fast.

"Two-Bit! Darry's gonna kill me! When he hears the cops got called on us-"

"Hey, don't go blamin' Two-Bit," said Soda, sticking up for me. "It ain't his fault one bit."

"He's the one who ran off from the fuzz and dragged us with 'im!"

"We were still sittin' in the car when the whole thing started, Pone…"

Johnny sorta trailed of. Soda and Steve were quiet, and the three in the backseat, weren't saying much now. Soda watched them carefully in the rearview mirror.

"Two-Bit, why don'tcha just drop us each off at home? Pone, don't worry about Darry, okay? I'll make sure he don't get too mad. I'll tell him it's my fault, okay? Me and Steve's."

Steve snorted. "Don't go draggin' me into this."

"It was your own damn fault in the first place!" Pony squeaked.

"Kid, you don't know a damn thing about it-"

"Hey, cut it out you guys!" Johnny tried to get in between them, but when Steve and Pony start, it ain't exactly the easiest thing to get them to stop.

"'Ey!" I shouted, trying to sound all good-natured and relaxed in the situation. Soda and I were the goddamn sane ones, and they all knew it. "You heard Johnny, you two. Now, do I need to come back there and help you settle this like men, or do ya think you can work that out on your own?"

They didn't say nothing, but they quit fighting, which was good enough for all of us.

"You goin' home, Johnnycakes?" I asked, kinda hoping the answer was no. Johnny sighed a little, like he was thinking about it.

"Yeah, man, I guess. If it gets too bad, I'll just head to the lot or somethin'."

"You can come stay at our place, Johnny," Pony offered. Kid's always worried. Johnny shrugged.

"Naw, it's okay, Pone. Really. It ain't even cold at yet, and it's clear. Maybe I could see the stars or something. 'Sides, ain't Steve staying over?"

Steve snorted, and I could see him shaking his head in the rearview mirror. "Ain't the point, Johnny," he said softly, but in an already-quiet car, everyone heard. But everyone pretended not to.

I dropped Johnny off at his place, then headed on over to the Curtis's. They all chorused, "see ya, Two-Bits" at me and headed inside. Steve lingered for a sec at my window.

"Some last hurrah," he said, laughing a little. I laughed back harder.

"You can say that again. I'm all jacked up now. I can't head in yet. I'll see you guys later, tomorrow when I come get y'all," I told them through the window. Steve gave me a knowing smile.

"Gonna hunt up some trouble like Dally?"

I grinned. "Yeah. Different kind of trouble, I'm sure, but trouble all the same."

"Trouble is trouble is trouble."

"Damn straight it is."

Steve knocked on the hood of the car twice, and that was my signal to pull out. I had a game to attend. Hadn't told him that part. A smile crept across my face. Poker was more important than sleeping. Money was more important than school. That's what I've learned.

XXXXX

I don't like talking about that game much. For starts, it's boring to recap a card game, right? I think so, at least. Plus, I lost a lot of money that night. That's not exactly something I like to recap, either. Yeah, I'd been cheating, but that's not what lost the game for me. Sometimes, you just don't win. Ya know.

The first day of school is always kinda…I dunno, not fun, really, but I've always been a master at making my own fun at school, or just about anywhere else. That first day of school, 1966, I was hungover and sitting outside of the Curtis house, sunglasses on my face with a killer headache and the widest smile I could manage. I would lay on the horn to get all their attentions, but that would have been about a thousand times too loud. So after a few minutes of just sitting there, concentrating on not throwing up whatever the hell it was that was in my stomach all over my dash, I got out of the car and went inside.

"Y'all're being slow as shit. I've been sitting outside forever!"

Darry came breezing through the kitchen into the living room, carrying his tool belt and trying to put his shirt on at the same time. I don't see why he even bothers with the shirt. He just ends up taking it off anyways. It's too hot for layers, I think to myself, as I wear a once-white t-shirt and pilling flannel. And my jacket-my leather jacket- was in the car. It was probably too hot out to grease my hair 'cuz that shit just ends up dripping, but I had done that, too.

"Quit whining, Two-Bit," he says easily. "Why do you care so much if you're late?"

"I don't care if we're late. If I show up here late so that we're all late, fine by me. But I don't wanna just sit around waiting for y'all."

"So it's okay if you're late, but not us?"

"Yeah."

Darry shrugged. "Whatever, Two-Shit."

"Aw, c'mon, Darry," I pouted. "Don't be like that. C'mon, be cool."

"You know I ain't cool."

And then he was out the door. Enter Sodapop, jeans on but fly down, and a piece of toast in his mouth. His shoes weren't on yet, but he seemed to be looking for them. He was working towards getting out the door. And I feel bad about this, but I hadn't noticed Ponyboy, and he had been sitting on the couch right in front of me, ready to go. Steve came in the door behind me.

"Two-Bit, you aren't making a very good door or window right now. Get out of the way," Steve snapped.

"Quiet down, Steven," I said. "I've got a poorly head."

"Pfft. You mean you're hungover. Fantastic! Let's get going. Soda, what're you doing, man? What the hell…"

"Hey," I said. "Where's Johnny?"

"He already left," Pony piped in. "He just walked."

"Oh, really?"

"Really. He got sick of waiting."

I sighed. "Well, so am I! Pony, Steve, let's go!"

"See ya!" Soda called running past me and out the front door. I shook my head. That boy.

The drive over was loud, and that was sorta pissing me off, but I didn't want to be a buzzkill. They were just screwing around. Steve even seemed to be in okay spirits, so he was razzing Pony, and for once in his life, Pony was going with it. The kid has no sense of humor half the time. But today, he was being cool about it. Steve didn't hate him. He just pissed him off.

First period was boring as hell, per usual. The same books again, the same teacher. I smiled at her when she saw me. She didn't. Second period was American History- again. Mr. James- again. It was going to be an interesting year; I knew that already. Or, boring is more like it.

Okay, but! Everyone, prepare to meet the she-devil.

Oh, Bridget Stevens. That green-eyed, raven-haired socialite. I'd never seen this picture-perfect china doll before, and that was reason enough for me to get on her nerves. Nothing too serious. A bunch of minor, little things that would just piss her off just enough.

Jimmy Hopper was sitting next to me. He was a young up-and-comer in Shepard gang, a real straight-shooter. He pissed me off. He was still sixteen, but he acted like he'd been on the planet since before God. I'd had a couple run-ins with him over the summer, and I liked takin' him on in rumbles and all that. He wasn't a bad fighter, but he wasn't as good as me, and he was 'bout as dumb as a rock and mean as a Grizzly bear. I could handle him just fine.

I sat down and opened the one notebook I bothered to bring with me, and pulled my pencil out of the spiral binding. Mr. James had passed out some sort of syllabus (ain't that what it's called?) and was going over it. I was writing Jimmy notes.

That girl in front of me is new right?

yeah. at least I think so. I've never seen her before.

Capitalize, dumbass.

Seems socy.

I think she is. she looked at me weird like I was stupid or something.

You are. Don't take it too personal, everyone thinks that. Anyways, watch this.

I kinda just wanted to bug her, ya know? The new kids are always fun to pick on. I didn't mean any real harm, but the broad couldn't keep her trap shut! I make my own fun, remember? How was I s'posed to do that with her in my way? I couldn't.

But I didn't exactly care, ya know.

Jimmy and I had a grand old time back there, making little paper footballs and flickin' 'em. I snapped my gum hard, just enough so she could hear. And every time she turned around, she'd give me this little onceover, and her frown would get deeper. But, man, I'd just smile bigger, scratch my sideburns. Then she'd turn back around, and I'd tap her shoulder so she'd turn back around, or tap her chair. Missy Redar, the pretty blonde thing next to her, was looking over now and then, too, but I didn't care about her. I knew her. Didn't know this one!

"Would you stop?" she hissed at me, real quiet.

"Stop what?" I asked, playing innocent. I knew what I was doing was working.

"Being a nuisance," she spat.

Well, if that doesn't put a smile on my face…"I'm afraid that's a bit too vague for my liking. When you have a better answer, I'd be more than happy to listen."

I had to be difficult with her. I had no other choice. She just asked, begged, for it. Something about those innocent, nervous green eyes. Something about the way she dressed, that said she tried and probably belonged, but she didn't think so. She was trying so hard.

"Well, how about you at least stop smiling at me every time I turn around? Could you at least do that?" she asked. She was trying to regain control of herself. That would be impossible. I shook my head happily.

"Honey, don't blame me for bein' a happy guy. Just stop turning around!" I suggested, grinning still.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "What's your name?" She asked me slowly.

I shook my head and smirked. "Two-Bit Mathews," I told her proudly. She scoffed.

"As if." She rolled her eyes. A lot of people around us were chatting about something or other. Mr. James doesn't have a whole lot to say on the first day. No one even paid attention to the two of us.

"What's yours?" I asked kindly, trying not to laugh. She rolled her eyes again, they'd roll back into her brain.

"Bridget Stevens," she said simply. I noticed a little gap between her front two teeth.

"That's a right pretty name," I told her.

She rolled her eyes again, and that's when I knew she'd really given up. She turned to Missy Redar, and they started saying something or other about me, but I didn't care. I was impossible to handle, I know it. I think some people like that impossibility. That day, Bridget didn't. I guess I can understand that. Girls like that don't have a sense of humor, especially not about themselves. They're all about driving their nice cars and going on ski trips and sweet-talking mommy and daddy into letting them go out on a school night. She was probably a good student that did all her homework on time. She would probably get a "nice" boyfriend, one that I would meet one night at Brookie's or Buck's or the Strip, feeling up a not-so-nice but heavily endowed girl, and then I'd kick his ass. Cuz guys like that just ask for it. I ask for it, too, I know it. But at least I don't go around pretending that I don't.

XXXXX

AN: Finally! Chapter Two! Updates are gonna come more quickly now, I promise. I'm loving writing these two again, and I've just about finished the outline for this story, and I'm very excited!

If you enjoyed, fave, follow, or review! Reviews are my drug, if you haven't noticed. :)