Writer's Note:

I do not own any of these characters except Shelia, now let's get this story started.

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We had just gotten onto the sidewalk when we let go of each other. I now stood on the corner of the sidewalk with him and my hands in my pockets.

I pushed the grocery bag into his gut. He looked a bit pained and rolled his eyes as he looked at me.

"I am gonna get going... just forget about helping me." But just then, a different voice jumped into the non-moving conversation.

I nearly jumped out of my skin too as I heard it. "Oh, Shelia... well I found you..." the voice was dry and sounded unenthusiastic. I turned to see my oldest cousin, Mark hanging out the window. His eyebrow was raised high. "What did you," he started in a befuddled tone as he looked back and fourth to us. "Who is this hoodlum? Get in the car, right now." He said in a strict voice as I shook my head and sucked in some air.

"Well, okay... don't think I'll see you again... so," I shrugged then said, "bye..." I then got up sighing and strolled over to the door of the car. I felt my ankle dragging as I walked and just winced biting my lip, but did nothing else though I felt like a wimp. I then slipped into the car as my cousin nodded.

"That's right, you won't be seeing him again..." muttered my cousin as I shut the door. But, it didn't matter... the boy didn't even care. He was already walking down the sidewalk as some people seemed to be greeting him. I turned to see two boys hanging on the fence waving to him, but I didn't see much more than that. This was because my cousin took off with a distorted face. He seemed to be viewing the houses on the block for a moment too, but before he even looked at them for over a minute, he had taken off. "Those houses are horrible... do you know what type of houses they are?" said my cousin in his stuck up tone as he drove slowly. I knew he was just doing this so he could annoy me by talking to me to the point of what I felt was no return.

"No, I don't believe so..." I said in a rather bitter voice crossing my arms as my foot finally felt rested.

"Oh, well they are project houses... poor people live there... I'd expect even you to know not to hang out with people like that." I raised my eyebrow. That was just the type of people my relatives were.

"I just bumped into him. I don't even know the guy's name!" I snapped turning to look at him. "Couldn't you tell, he didn't even really like me. He just left."

"Yeah whatever you say... but..." his continuous process of driving slowly started to annoy me quite a bit. I suddenly decided to do the only thing that would make him actually listen to me.

"Um, Mark... I just want to give you a little pointer outer..." I said in a rather smart-alecked way. "As we speak, my ankle is dripping blood on your mom's car's floor... yeah. I sorta go into a mix up. Nearly took my ankle off with your dad's old bike." I was being a little dramatic, but I wanted to make it sound like I was bleeding more than I was so he would hurry the hell up. He cringed when he heard of my misfortune. However, the first thing he said was what I expected him to, "How much was the bike damaged when you left it?" As they continued down the road, the white Mustang gained speed. "Oh, I think I messed up the gears and..." suddenly I realized we were passing the same park again. "Well, why don't you take a look for yourself?" I asked as he looked from the corner of his eye as he kept driving. "It's in the park?" he asked shaking his head as he diverted his attention back to the road before him. "I would go get the bike, but you are going to stain the blasted car, so I need to get you home..." he looked around at the vacant streets for a moment, then sped a little more past the appropriate speed limit. I tisked mockingly saying, "oh, speeding." His eyes grew cold and he was clenching his jaw. I knew how to get on his nerves when it came to driving. He believed he was the most authoritative driver and he just hated it when people commented on his flaws.

Before we knew it, we were pulling into the single car driveway of my aunt's townhouse. "Get out..." he muttered as I shrugged heaving another breath then opening the door. He turned to look at my ankle and made a strange expression. He flared his nostrils... making his expression similar to a monkey's. "What are you looking at?" I said crudely then slammed the door after I hopped out of the car. My pant leg of my jeans had a few large spots of blood on it and my ankle was now tingling. "Oh, God, the car!" groaned my cousin as I felt slightly guilty. But, at the same time, he deserved it. He was the one driving slowly. I mean, if they had a hard time getting it out, I'd pitch in and try to help, but not too much. I tired to avoid my god family at all costs... except Mark... he wasn't all that bad. Pretty snobby, but his mean comments were never directly shot towards me.

"Here, I'll help you in..." he grunted rolling his eyes as he put his arm around my shoulder and I put mine around his. "Thanks..." I sighed dully as he slowly lead me into the house. When we reached the steps to the porch, I felt lucky he was so big. I needed to lean on something hardly since I had such a difficult time trying not to put any pressure on my right leg, even if it was just my ankle.

I felt triumphant when I reached the porch and I knew my straining journey had just begun. For, when Mark opened the door to the house, my aunt stood there by the stairway with her mouth hung open. "What in sam hill did you do, Shelia Peggy Feeney?" my aunt shot the question at me piercingly like a bow and arrow.

"I almost got mugged because someone kicked me out of the house." I said gruffly looking at her with no signs of being cross in my expression.

She shook her head, "oh, and your uncle's bike is where? I swear, you are the stupidest youth I have ever met." I shook my head, "the bike is in the same case as uncle Rick. Better off out of your sight... another way to say it is, it's already experienced enough. I don't think it can be fixed now." She looked at me as I smiled smugly and Mark let go off me. Before I knew it, I had been slapped across the face, which I took as I hug. Though it stung and a slight tear came to my eye, I muttered, "gee, aunty, I love you too!"

That's when she hissed, "go to your room. You don't need dinner tonight. You aren't worth leftovers." I shook my head shrugging knowing it was my fault she was mad... I mean I had started the fire. So, before I turned to struggle down the stairs, Mark said, "erm, you should clean that up first." Aunt Jean looked at my ankle and said, "Mark, you do it. I don't want to deal with her, right now!"

Mark sighed as Maggie, my 15 year old cousin walked by. She looked down at me smirking. "Oh, wow, that ankle is a perfect match for your ugly expressions. Looking real tough now..." she giggled girlishly as I crossed my eyes at her. Then I said, "You bet I'm tough..."

Shaking his head, Mark got me back into the same support position I was in before. He then helped me down the stairs to the basement.

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When my foot was bandaged up and I was laying down on the musty brown couch with a blanket over me, I found myself lonely. I was usually lonely in this house... with the occasional visit from Mike of course... but, being down in the basement was very isolating... not that I minded of course, for obvious reasons. What came to mind as I lied there in the dark was that boy's face. I wondered who he was... and who those other kids on the fence were... they looked like they were in a pack... or a gang or something. I wondered if they were Greasers. I mean, that boy seemed pretty knowledgeable in the fighting field. Mark had told me about the Socs and Greasers... Greasers apparently were poor while Socs were rich. They had a rivalry... Mark knew a lot about Greasers and Socs. Sometimes, I wondered if Mark knew a Soc or Greaser, because he was an information mill about them... or maybe, these gangs were just well known. Well, whatever it was, I felt curios to know more... I just wasn't sure if I wanted to get mixed up in it... not that I could... being a dotting girl and all.

At least I had someone to be thankful for that night... that kid who saved my skin on Thanksgiving night. I hoped he was having a good celebration weather he be a Greaser, Soc or just a normal person. Even though I could tell I was getting on his nerves and he wasn't all that fond of me, I didn't care. I was just thankful I was alive.

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How did you like it? I hope it was to your liking. If you have any suggestions, make sure you tell me, because I'd love to hear! I thank someone for helping me in the previous chapter. See you around, and Happy New Years!