Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders.

Milena's Point of View

The ceiling was short and cracked, the paint was chipping off the walls, and the bedroom was the size of my bathroom. I was sitting on Angela Shepard's bed with my legs crossed, flipping through a magazine.

The car ride to Angela's hadn't been as bad as I thought it would be. Angela gave me step by step directions to her house throughout the drive so there were no awkward silences. Her neighborhood was far into Greaser territory and when I stepped out of my car, the sight of her house was appalling and just plain sad. It looked like an abandoned shack. I was scared to enter because I felt like the ceiling was going to collapse and fall on top of me. Angela was relieved that no one was home but, she still seemed embarrassed to have me in her house. I felt bad for her so I decided to make the best of the situation and glam her up. If I was going to have to get her brother to like me; I was going to have to get along with her. Well, until I win the bet that is.

"Okay, so the curling iron is heating up and I washed my face like you told me to," Angela said, entering her room once more.

"Perfect," I said. "What's your costume? I'll do your make-up based on that."

"Well, I mean I don't really have one," Angela said. "I was just going to wear some booty shorts and a belly top and call myself an exotic dancer or something like that."

"I'm sure your brothers would love that!" I exclaimed. "With two rough brothers like yours I'm sure they can get pretty over-protective."

"Bullshit! They don't give a damn about me, what I do, or what I wear," Angela replied. Her voice was waving it off as if it was nothing but, her eyes were telling another story.

"Oh, well I'm sure we can find something in your closet," I said.

"Good luck," Angela laughed.

An hour later, Angela's floor was swamped with clothes and we still hadn't found anything that we could create into a Halloween costume.

"See, I told you. Exotic dancer it is," she said, picking up a hustler top from the floor.

"No," I said, ripping the shirt out of her hands. "You can wear this." I pulled out the costume I had planned on wearing out of my oversized bag. It was a gorgeous blue Cinderella dress, equipped with a tiara, glass heels, and, a mask covering the eyes.

"Wow, that's beautiful," Angela said in awe. "But, I can't. It's yours. Besides, what would you wear?"

"You can and you will," I retorted, shoving the dress into her hands. "I'll wear a make-shift costume."

"Milena…I…I don't know what to say," she continued. "Why are you doing this?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, playing dumb.

"All of this. Why did you give me a ride home? Why are you in my house? Why are you giving me your dress to wear? Why are you going to Monster's Ball with me and my hood brothers?" She asked.

I turned around and faced the wall, in fear that she would be able to tell that I was lying when I said "Because, maybe Greasers aren't that bad. I think I judged to soon with you lot and I know I haven't been the nicest person in the world to you but, I'm trying to change."

Then, she did something I never expected. She hugged me.

"Thank you, Milena," she said. "Thank you, just when I was starting to lose hope that there wasn't any good left in the world, you kept the hope alive."

"I'm going to go change," she continued, and left the bedroom to go to the bathroom.

I let out a groan and held my head in my hands.

I kept Angela Shepard's hope alive with my fake speech? What the hell am I doing? I'm fucking with these people's lives!

Hours later: all hair primps were complete, every last eyelash was curled and coated with mascara, and our heels were digging into Angela's carpet as we squeezed into her full length mirror to look at our final results.

Angela's hair was long and curly, her make-up was perfect, and the dress was exquisite on her. She looked stunning, more beautiful than I'd ever seen her look. Angela Shepard looked like a princess.

Angela and I managed to find an old bridesmaid dress that she had to wear for a friend's wedding once. With a lot of cutting we got it to look like a gypsy dress (or as close to a gypsy dress as one could get out of a bridesmaid dress) but, it really didn't look too bad. It was green and shorter than I was used to but, it would make do.

"Damn, we did a good job," I said, cockily.

Angela laughed and then a voice from downstairs yelled "Angela! Get your sorry ass down here or I'm

going without you!"

"I'll be down soon Curly," Angela yelled back.

I was mentally preparing myself. He had to like me, he just had to.

"I'm going to go pee real quick you go downstairs and make sure that he doesn't go without us," she

said to me, running off.

Damn. I'm on my own.

I took a deep breath and with one final look in the mirror, I made my way down the stairs.

A figure was turned towards the fridge, rummaging through the contents. I saw a mop of curly black hair and I knew that I had found him. Now, I just had to get him to like me. But, he must have heard me before he saw me because he thought I was Angela. While he was turned away he said "God damn, you're finally ready. Tim's going with Dallas so it's just you and me. By the way, whose car is that out front?"

"Oh," he said, looking up.

"Um…hi…I'm Milena," I said, lamely.

"I know who you are," Curly said, looking at me like I had three heads. "Kotsin, right?"

"Yeah," I answered.

Awkward silence. So, I started to fidget with my dress and he kept staring at me then, more awkward silence.

"So, um that's my car outside," I said, trying to make some kind of conversation.

"I figured," he said, still staring.

Even more awkward silence.

"It's a nice car," he continued.

"Thanks," I replied.

He just kept staring as if he'd never quite seen anything quite like me.

Now, I know what it's like to be an animal at the zoo.

"Why are you here?" he said, finally taking his gaze off of me.

"I'm sorry?" I asked perplexed.

"Look, I don't mean to be rude but, I also don't mean to be nice either," he said. "What's the sociest of

Socs doing in my house?"

"I'm here with Angela. I'm going to Monster's Ball with you guys," I answered, shocked by Curly's

extreme bluntness.

"Why?" he asked.

"What is this twenty questions?" I replied, getting fed up with the inquiry.

"I just never knew you, a rich and popular Soc to be whatever you are with my sister," he continued.

"Whatever we are? We're friends," I defended.

"Sure," he said. "And the sky is falling. Since when are you two friends? Three hours ago?" he laughed.

Yes.

"No!" I exclaimed. "I've always been very fond of Angela!"

Lie.

Curly rolled his eyes as if to say "Whatever, I don't believe you."

"You haven't introduced yourself," I said, with a little bit of attitude.

"I know you know who I am," he said, with the cockiest of cocky grins on face.

"Tough enough," I nodded. "What are you supposed to be anyway?"

Curly was wearing a black jacket with gold buttons and he had on a silver glove.

"I'm Michael Jackson of course!" he said. "Don't you see it?"

I laughed, "No, Curly I don't see it at all!"

He playfully pouted and said, "Well who are you supposed to be? I can't tell either!"

"I'm a gypsy…type…thing," I said.

"A gypsy…type…thing," he repeated. "What the hell is a gypsy…type…thing?"

"You know, it's a gypsy…type…thing," I said.

He raised an eyebrow and grinned

"Aw shucks Curly," I said, grinning back. "I don't know what it is and I don't really know what I am."

"Well, it looks like you've been digging through my sister's closet," he said, taking a look at the length of

my dress.

"Yep, I have," I nodded, verifying what he said.

"Why?" he asked.

But, I didn't need to answer him because just then Angela came down the stairs.

"Well, are we ready to go then?" she asked. "We'll take Curly's car and leave yours Milena."

"Sounds good," I said and Curly nodded in agreement. Angela grabbed the keys off the counter and

went outside, I tried to follow her but, Curly pulled me back.

"Why is she wearing what you're supposed to wear and you're wearing what she's supposed to wear?"

he asked, suspiciously.

"Because, she looks gorgeous in that dress. And it wouldn't hurt you if you told her she was pretty once

in a while you know," I said.

He stared at me some more before quietly saying "I don't get you. You know that? I thought you hated

all Greasers but, here you are helping one of the greasiest girls out. What are you getting out of it?"

"Nothing," I said, guilt seeping in. "I'm not getting anything out of it."

"I hope so," he said, before walking out the door.

Why am I feeling guilty for lying to the Shepard's? They're all no good hoods! Anyway, the lying and

faking will be worth it when I win the bet with Evie.

"Yeah," I said, out loud to myself. "I only feel bad for lying to Curly because I'm a good person. I don't feel anything for him."

Yeah, that's it!

So, I followed Curly, and I slammed the door behind me, wanting so bad to believe what I was telling myself was real.

Author's Note: Be a doll and leave a review!