I wake up on a park bench. 'What?' I think. 'What the heck am I doing on a park bench!?' I get up and look down at my legs. 'Okay,' I think. But there's a suitcase next to me. "Okayyy," I say in confusion. I can feel my eyebrows furrowing. I look across the street. There's a car garage and a gas station. Being the Outsiders fan that I am, I quickly assume that it's the DX, and if I walk over there I'm bound to run into someone. And a mirror.

So I pick up the suitcase - which I'm grateful is a rolling bag - and walk over. As I walk over I see a guy with a bunch of tattoos working from under a car - I assume that's Steve - and another, (which is probably Sodapop, by his wheat gold hair) standing near him. Their heads turn as I approach.

"Hi," I say with a smile.

"Hi," Soda replies back. Steve just stares.

I ignore him and ask, "Are there any mirrors around here?"

"Yeah," Soda says, pointing around the corner. "In the back."

"Thanks," I say gratefully. I walk into the back and find the girls bathroom. I push the door open, to find the normal bathroom and a girl that looks like me. But it doesn't exactly look like me. Then I realize I'm looking in the mirror. At myself.

"Woah," I breathe. "What!?"

I don't look like . . . well me. Normal me. My hair is still it's reddish-brown shade, except I have mildly noticeable pink highlights. My eyes are still stormy blue, but I'm dressed more . . . greaser. I have the combat boots, blue jeans, dog tags, and black v-neck. Then it dawns on me.

I'M IN THE OUTSIDERS!? WHAT!? HOW!?

I think I actually start hyperventilating because I can't exactly breathe right for a bit and I have to resist the urge of screaming my head off. That, and going on a rampage to find Tiffany, to see if I'm alone in this book. Fandom, movie, whatever!

After I calm down I take another look at myself. I don't look too bad. I'm still 5 foot 4. I still kinda look like my mom. And being in the outsiders can't be all bad. I walk out a bit more confident than before. But still nervous.

"Did you find it?" Soda asks.

"Yeah," I reply. "Thanks Soda,"

"How do you know my name?" he asks, looking at me.

Steve just rolls his eyes.

I rack my brain for an excuse. Then I remember something, "And their station got more customers than any other in town. Whether that was because Steve was so good with cars or because Soda attracted girls like honey draws flies,"

I shrug. "A friend told me." I glance slightly to the right - a bad habit I have - and add, "Ex-friend. She moved."

"Sorry to hear that," Soda says understandingly.

"Hey Soda!" A voice calls.

We all turn our heads to see more guys walking up. I recognize Two-Bit, with the sideburns and obviously the Mickey shirt; Dally with the cold eyes and the 'I don't care' swagger; Ponyboy with his "light brown, almost red" hair, and Johnny, with the puppy look in his eyes, even if he is sixteen. When I see Johnny and Dally I have to resist screaming, 'You're ALIVE!" and running to hug them.

"New girl in town?" Two-Bit asks as they approach.

I could feel them eyeing me as I stood there. "I'm Arizona," I say. "And yes, I could be considered new,"

"Arizona?" Dally asks questioningly. "Aren't you that girl who got hauled in by the fuzz for beating up your dad?"

"What?" I ask in utter shock. "I beat up my dad?"

"Yeah, I think I was in the station too," Two-Bit joins in. "You're dad got pulled in for being abusive to you ever since your mom died. He put you in a coma when you were seven. You said you fought back out of self-defense."

"WHAT?" I yell, even more shocked than before. "Is he in jail?"

"Yeah," Dally replies, lighting a cigarette. "He's been in there a year. Won't get out for another three,"

"Good riddance," I reply.

"So just to test if you're new," Steve starts. "Name us off,"

"What?" I ask. "Uh . . . what do you mean?"

"Just name who we are," Soda says gently. "You were um . . . in a coma when you were seven,"

I hold my hand up. "Don't tell me," I say, briefly closing my eyes. "The doctors said I lost my memory of something,"

"How did you know?" Two-Bit asks in amazement.

"No, I should be the one asking that," I say. "How do you all know so much about me?"

"It's a small East side." Two-Bit replies.

"You're pretty well known for screaming at your dad," Steve says. "And fighting him,"

"Okay,"" I sigh. "Since you really want to test my memory, you're Keith "Two-Bit" Mathews, Johnny Cade, Steve Randle, Sodapop and Ponyboy Curtis, and Dallas Winston." I gesture to each one of them. "Do I need to name off your girlfriends too?" I add.