Chapter three! [:

R&R if possible, please.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.

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"It was real great, Soda. You shoulda seen the girl—gorgeous…nice, too." Steve smiled boastingly and surveyed his best friend's expression. Sodapop seemed pleased, so he continued. "Not a bad kisser, either."

Soda grinned at his best friend's dramatic change in attitude. Twenty-four hours ago, Steve Randle had been grumpy, maybe even slightly depressed, slouching around only for lack of better reason. Now he actually seemed like he wanted to come to work each morning. In the past, Steve only came to work during the afternoons (except on weekends)—but he'd just recently graduated his twelfth and final year of public education, and there was no better feeling in the world than working side-by-side with Soda—and full-time!

"That's real great, Steve," Soda answered perkily. Steve and him were in the break room as of now. Soda was chugging chocolate milk as if he were about to die, and Steve was sipping timidly at a beer, disguised in a plastic cup. He didn't want the manager to barge in and realize he was drinking on the job.

"So…when do I get to meet her, buddy?" Soda pushed on, and Steve nearly choked on his alcohol. Soda…meet…Lisa? Why did those three words fit together so horribly in his head? He'd never had trouble introducing his girl's to Soda before—why the sudden hostility?

"Uhh…I dunno, Soda," Steve spluttered, wiping some liquid off his face with his torn sleeve.

"Why don't I meet her after work?" Soda offered, grinning interestedly at the possibility. "You are gonna go steady, aren't you? It wasn't just a sorta, uhh, one night stand?" he added, wanting clarification.

"Um…" Steve fingered his knuckles absently, not making eye contact with his best friend. "Well…not steady. We just met…and I was gonna take her out tonight…." Steve finally stared into Soda's eyes, smirking anxiously. "And I didn't get laid, buddy, so it couldn't have been a one night stand."

"Oh…" Soda chugged down another gulp of his chocolate milk, then sighed happily and stared at Steve. "Well, whattaya say, Steve? I want to me this Lisa girl. I'm sure I could find a girl by tonight to go out with…. Why don't we double-date?"

"No!" Steve answered, and so melodramatically that Sodapop flinched back. Steve acknowledged the Curtis boy's wince for a moment, then sighed and came up with the nicest explanation he could accomplish.

"Soda…if I tell you something, d'you think you'll get offended?" Steve questioned slowly. Soda hesitated, nodding carefully after a second's consideration.

"No…" Soda murmured finally, although he sounded unsure of his answer. "Yeah, I won't get offended, Steve…. What is it?"

"Well…" Steve heaved a quiet groan before going on. "Soda…I don't think I want you to meet Lisa. At least…not for a while," he admitted, and Soda titled his head to the side quizzically.

"Why not?"

Steve allowed his eyes to downcast to the filthy floor for an instant, but then suddenly they snapped up, blazing and glaring into Soda's. His emotions had shifted abruptly—he'd gone from almost guilty to furious in a second, though he didn't know why.

"Because I said so, Goddamn it—you're always stealing girl's away from me, Soda, and I'm fucking sick of it!" Steve exploded. He'd emphasized his speaking when he'd cussed, advertising his obvious anger.

Soda's eyes evolved into wide, shocked discs of hurt, though he was good enough at hiding it—because a second later they looked completely normal again, but it was clear something was hiding beneath them.

"Oh, okay…" Soda said. Actually, it sounded like more of a croak in Steve's opinion, but he didn't remark. There was another moment of silence, which involved Soda reaching into Steve's pocket and retrieving a cigarette. This time, Steve flinched. Soda didn't usually smoke—not unless he was trying to look tuff or was real upset. And he didn't have any reason to try and seem tuff now—Steve already knew he was—so his harsh words must've actually hurt him.

"Hey, did you hear that, Steve?" Soda muttered randomly, perking his ear towards the break room exit as he lit the cigarette and inhaled the smoke. "I think someone's out there. I'd better go help them." Then he left, though Steve had only one thought on his mind as his betrayed friend trailed away:

I didn't hear anyone come into the garage.

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Sorry this one's sort of short. The next one should be the usual length. (: Remember to R&R!