Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton, or "The Kids Aren't Alright" by The Offspring.
"This fic/chapter is being posted as part of "Good Fic Day," an effort to raise the quality of writing here. We hope to encourage more writers to improve the quality of their own fan fiction - spell check, grammar check, keep the gang in character, outline, plot and don't use Mary Sues. Good fan fiction requires effort, and we would like to encourage other writers to rise to the challenge of producing better fan fiction, not only for our readers, but for S.E. Hinton, who created the wonderful book we are trying to honour."
CHAPTER FOUR
Wednesday, December 28th, 1966
Now the neighbourhood's cracked and torn
The kids are grown up but their lives are torn
Steve hadn't seen his dad in days, and if it weren't for the fresh carton of milk that had appeared in the icebox that morning, he might have been worried.
Christmas had come and gone just like it did every year, and Steve hadn't seen his dad since arriving home to find him passed out on the couch Christmas Eve. He didn't know where his old man had spent Christmas day, but Mrs. Mathews had insisted he and the Curtis boys have dinner with her, Two-Bit, and Two-Bit's little sister, Donna. As far as the first Christmas without Mr. and Mrs. Curtis went, it wasn't terrible. Even if Steve had spent most of the day being hassled by Two-Bit because his kid sister had a crush on him.
But, now his dad was home from work or the pub or a bender in some gutter somewhere, and Steve was desperate to get the hell out.
He finished washing the oil from his car off of his hands and left the bathroom. He'd go to Soda's, just like he always did. Question was whether to sneak out his bedroom, or tough it out and go out the front door.
"What the fuck are you doin' here?" John asked, as soon as Steve was out of the bathroom.
He tensed; his dad didn't sound drunk, but definitely sounded like he had been drunk which was worse. Walking passed his dad, he hoped to get to the front door before any shit was started. "Goin' to Soda's," he muttered, not looking at him.
"And leavin' the place looking the state it is? I don't think so. Get back in there and clean your fucking mess."
Steve paused. "Ain't my mess. Clean it yourself."
Sometimes, he wondered just what kind of idiot he was. First he had cheated on Anna, then he had gotten back together with Evie for all the wrong reasons, and now he was constantly replying to his dad's jerky comments with ones of his own. Had been since Johnny and Dallas died.
"Ungrateful bastard," his dad said, turning away.
Knowing he should keep his trap shut, Steve replied, "Useless bastard."
The punch to his jaw came quicker than he expected. His dad might have spent last night drinking, but he was well and truly sober now. Steve clenched his hands, refusing to rub his jaw.
"Get the fuck outta here, Steve. And don't bother comin' back."
Glaring, he left, slamming the door behind him. Too angry to even look where he was going, he took off in the direction of Soda's.
He wished he didn't have to go back, he really did. In the past it had still been home and a part of him had always wanted to go back. But fuck, not anymore. Now when his old man told him to piss off for good, he wanted to. Shit, he would, too. As soon as school was finished, he'd get the hell out of that place and not look back.
Things had gotten way out of hand in the last few months and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. His attitude only made things worse; he knew that, but never bothered trying to calm himself. Not when it came to his dad.
Rubbing a hand over his knuckles, he sighed. His attitude toward his dad had only gotten worse since Dally and Johnny had died, but he pushed them out of his head. If he could get away with not thinking about Dally and Johnny, then he'd do it.
He supposed his attitude was normal, though - people dealt with death in different ways; Darry was constantly fretting, Soda went into long silences that were unlike him, and Two-Bit … well, Two-Bit was more of a mess than anyone. Steve had always let his temper get to him that fighting with his dad as much as he was wasn't a shock, but Two-Bit was the easy-going one.
Well, he had been. Now he was getting into trouble all over the place and Steve couldn't afford to let his temper get the best of him. Not when he had Two-Bit to watch out for. He wanted to fight - he was itching for a good fight and preferably with Henry Phillips - but he couldn't. Not when Two-Bit was doing enough fighting for all of them. All Steve could do was start something with his dad every now and then.
And he did. Steve couldn't help but hate the bastard. He remembered the first time he had felt true hate for his own father, and realised not a lot about then had changed. When his dad had told him his mom was a slut, Steve's body cursed with hatred, and they had fought.
A real fight - punches, kicking, his dad's broken nose. He smirked at that thought, but it had been the breaking point for whatever relationship they claimed to have. There was no more money in place of apologies. Since that first fight, his dad didn't just yell at him when they argued. He had taken to throwing punches; punches that Steve couldn't - and wasn't stupid enough - to throw back if his dad wasn't drunk. John Randle was big and would beat his own son to pieces if he felt like it.
Kicking a stone into the Curtises' front lawn, he tried to forget about his dad. A part of him couldn't help but wish that he could go to Anna like he did the first time his old man hit him.
"Hey, buddy!" Soda called, from the front porch.
Steve looked up, surprised to see Soda smoking. "You okay?"
Soda nodded. "Sure, just - Christmas holidays, you know?"
"Yeah." Pulling out his own smokes, Steve sat next to him.
"You get into it with your dad again?"
Lighting up his smoke, Steve just nodded.
"The guy's a jerk," Soda said. "Try not to let him get to ya, Stevie."
"S'cool," he said. "I ain't worried."
Anyone other than Soda might have believed him. Blowing out a smoke ring, Steve leaned against the porch railing. "Where's Darry and Pony?"
"Darry's out with some old buddies, and Pony's inside reading. Hey, you seen Two-Bit today?"
Steve shook his head, but as if reading their minds, a car came to a slow stop in front of them, and Two-Bit climbed out.
"Hey, y'all."
"Where ya been?" Soda asked.
Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow and scratched his head. "Funny story there."
Steve and Soda both groaned lowly. Two-Bit was full of funny stories, no one could deny that, but more often than not, his funny story wasn't that funny at all. It was outright frustrating.
"What happened?" Soda asked.
Two-Bit sat on Steve's other side, and pulled out his own smokes. "See, it all started when I was at the liquor store. Being a good Samaritan and all, I was actually paying for my booze for once." Neither Soda nor Steve bothered to point out that using a fake ID wasn't considered being a good Samaritan. "I had a nice carton of beer in my hand, was in the process of handin' over my cash, and both me and the guy behind the counter hear this almighty smash come from outside."
He paused, lighting up his smoke and inhaling deeply.
"So, not only does it make us both jump, but it has me dropping the carton of beer, getting my shoes covered in beer - which, in case you didn't know, becomes awful sticky when it dries - and pulling out my blade."
Soda laughed. "You didn't?"
"Oh, I did. Let me tell you, Sodapop Curtis, I ain't so much a fan of loud noises these days."
Steve raised an eyebrow, sure that Two-Bit was referring to Dallas being shot right in front of them. For Two-Bit to be admitting what he was, Steve figured he was probably a little soused despite the spilt beer and it not even being dark out.
"So I'm standing there, beer all up my jeans, blade in hand, with the cashier screaming at me." Two-Bit scratched his head again. "I dunno, I guess he had forgotten about the crash outside or whatever, because he sure was pissed at me."
"What'd you do?" Steve asked.
Two-Bit grinned. "Well, I was in a bit of a jam, as y'all can imagine. Was I to go outside and check out the crash? Or was I to go get another carton of beer? I'll tell ya, the decision came awful easy when the cashier stormed out back to grab a mop. I found myself able to grab some more beer, and head outside to inspect the crash before the guy could start yelling at me again."
Steve smirked. Only Two-Bit could claim to be a good Samaritan by paying for beer and not pay for it in the end.
"So what was the crash?" Soda asked.
Two-Bit sighed. "Someone smashed a window in my car."
"What?" Both Steve and Soda were off the porch and circling Two-Bit's car in seconds.
"Holy shit, man." Steve shook his head as he took in the large hole in the driver's door window. "Who the fuck did this?"
"Well, I ain't got no proof on account of not seein' nothing," Two-Bit said as he reached them, "but I might have sassed some River Kings while driving along the Ribbon."
Soda groaned. "Christ, Two-Bit. I was just tellin' Darry earlier that we don't need anymore trouble."
"I know! I swear, I didn't even mean to, but I'd already had a few and the words just fell out."
Steve stayed silent. He didn't want to be worried about Two-Bit, but his buddy had been getting out of hand lately. His drinking, despite popular belief, hadn't increased after Dally and Johnny had died, but he sure had become a smart-ass. Not the kind of smart-ass everyone loved, but the kind of smart-ass that could get himself into some serious shit.
The kind of smart-ass that was getting himself into some serious shit.
"This ain't the first time you've sassed them, Two-Bit," Soda said.
Two-Bit held his hands up, all innocence. "It ain't my fault; they're just so damn easy to rile up." He laughed then, grabbing his beer out of the car.
Steve met Soda's worried gaze and shrugged. He might have been concerned about Two-Bit, but he didn't want to make anything out of it. Not when it meant bringing up Dally and Johnny. Sighing, he shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and followed Two-Bit up the path.
"So, Stevie," Soda said, cheerful grin on his face as he tried to change the conversation. "What're ya plannin' on doing about Anna?"
"What about Anna?" Two-Bit asked, just as Steve shrugged.
"Steve wants her back."
Two-Bit laughed. "Well, of course he does!"
"What's that s'posed to mean?" Steve frowned at Two-Bit.
"C'mon, buddy. Anyone with half a brain can see the way you still look at her."
Steve said nothing. Just because he might look at Anna a certain way didn't mean shit. It wasn't as though he talked about her. In fact, the only reason he hadn't told Two-Bit about wanting Anna back earlier, was because he hadn't told anyone. Soda had asked if he'd made any decisions, but Steve just shrugged, not wanting to answer or talk about her.
After the fight with his dad, and Two-Bit's run-in with the River Kings, talking about Anna seemed easy.
"So, you gonna try get her back?" Two-Bit asked.
He sighed, not sure how to answer. He sure wanted her back, but that was just him. He didn't know how she felt. She had obviously been affected by him last week, going by the way she had spilled her feelings about her grandpa, but he wasn't sure that was enough.
He wasn't sure of much at all when it came to her feelings for him. He'd been able to see she was upset about something, and that he still had some kind of affect on her, but not much else. He didn't know if she was over him and just uncomfortable around him, or if she wasn't over him and was just faking her way through having to be near him.
"Do you know if she's said anything about me to Kathy?" he asked Two-Bit.
"Uh-uh. Not that Kathy would tell me anyway; she still hates you for cheating on Anna."
Steve nodded; he still hated himself for cheating on Anna. But he needed to know if she was over him or not. She flirted with Phillips a hell of a lot, but when he had dated Evie to get over Anna, that didn't mean much. The problem was that if she was over him then he had no chance. Any good feelings she might still have about him would be outweighed by her lack of interest in him.
But, if she wasn't over him …
His heart thudded at the thought - at the idea that she wasn't over him and he might be able to get her back - despite the possibility of it not being a good thing. If she wasn't over him then she'd still be hurt and angry and distrustful of him. At that moment, hurt and angry and distrustful were worse than a lack of interest.
"I ain't got a chance at anything if she's over me," he said, giving Soda and Two-Bit an edited version of his thoughts. "But I might have an even smaller chance if she's not over me and still pissed as hell."
A part of him doubted she was over him. It could have been his ego or it could have been the way she had talked to him last Friday - he wasn't sure. He might not be able to tell how she felt about him, but he knew how she felt about her grandpa, and he knew she wasn't a talker. The fact that she had talked to him had to mean something …
"I dunno if it helps any," Two-Bit began, "but she sure looked put out at the Dingo the other week when I let slip that you don't talk about her."
Steve wasn't sure if he should be pissed or not that Two-Bit had let that slip. He shrugged it off. "Oh yeah?"
"Didn't say nothin', but she sure looked sad."
He didn't want her looking sad, but hearing that sure helped him. Hurt, anger, and distrust might be worse than lack of interest, but he didn't think he could take Anna being over him.
Either way, he figured he was screwed. Either way, he didn't care.
Swallowing hard, he looked at Soda. "I gotta try, right?"
"The worse she can do is turn ya down … and it ain't like she hasn't done that before."
Steve rubbed his knuckles against the denim of his jeans before taking the beer Two-Bit offered him. Screw waiting for dark; he needed a drink.
"I already messed up and lost her," he said, after a long drink. "I ain't willing to lose her for good if I still got some kinda chance." And he had to have some kind of chance.
Two-Bit grinned, slapping him on the back. "Good for you, Stevie. Now, what we need is a plan …"
XXXXX
"Shit," Anna hissed, staring at the glass on the floor.
Anita glanced at her. "That's the third plate you've broken this afternoon."
"I know. You think they'll take it outta my pay?"
"Na. Remember I broke the oven that time? They just shrugged it off and got someone out to fix it."
Anna nodded. "But you're the assistant manager's niece."
"And you're the one out of the two of us who can actually bake. The only good I can do in this place is wash dishes and serve customers."
"If it makes you feel any better, the only good I get to do is wash dishes and serve customers," Anna said.
Not that she minded. It was a job, it paid as well as could be expected, and it was in a bakery. Some people didn't get the attraction of baking, but she loved it and while she was still in school, she couldn't think of a better job for her. Even if she did just wash dishes and serve customers, she still got to learn a lot of new stuff.
But she doubted anyone wanted to teach her anything when she was constantly breaking plates. She sighed, kneeling down to pick up the shards of glass.
"Are you okay?" Anita asked. "Three plates in a couple of hours is pretty bad."
"I'm fine." She wasn't, but she really didn't want to talk about it. Being back in that place where she thought about Steve Randle much too often was more than enough; talking about him as well wasn't appealing at all.
The bell above the door jingled, and Anita dropped to her knees with Anna.
"That'll be the late pick-up Aunt Meredith told us about," she said. "You go get that; I'll clean up here."
Anna grinned. "Thanks."
She stood and made her way out to the shop of the small bakery, realising all at once that getting away with not talking about Steve might not have been as easy as she'd hoped.
"Millie?"
The woman turned, eyes widening in surprise. Finally, she smiled. "Hey, kiddo. I forgot you worked here."
Anna fidgeted; it was her all right. Steve's dad's ex-girlfriend - tall, blonde, and … very pregnant.
"Wow."
Millie ran a hand over her stomach and Anna looked away, embarrassed at having been caught staring.
"I ordered a cake," Millie said. "Should be under Beck."
"Right." She nodded. "Um …"
Turning, she forced herself to get her act together. It was just Millie. Millie who she'd hit it off with right away, who had always been good to Steve, and who had told them both that if they ever needed anything they could go to her. Just because seeing Millie made her think of Steve - again - didn't mean she had to act like an idiot. She bit her lip. Neither did Millie being pregnant.
Anita came out of the back kitchen, box in hand. "Here. Order for Beck, right?"
Anna nodded and took the box. A tense silence fell between them as Anita went back into the kitchen and Anna rang up the order. Millie seemed different, and not just pregnant different. She was quieter, calmer, and more reserved. Glancing at her, Anna did the math in her head. Five and a half months since she and Steve had broken up, Millie had left Steve's dad only days before that - Anna hated herself for remembering so easily - and she looked to be … well, Anna had no idea. The last pregnant woman she'd really known was Aunt Helen when she was pregnant with Evie's little brother.
She handed the box to Millie and took the money. The words were out before she could stop them.
"Is it his? Steve's dad's?"
Millie hesitated before nodding. "Yeah."
"Does he know?"
"I don't want him knowin', Anna," she said. "You know how he is with Steve; I don't want that around this one." She ran her hand over her stomach again. "That's why I left after all."
Anna nodded. She could understand that.
Millie grinned. "It was real good seein' you, kid."
"Yeah?" she asked, feeling pathetic.
She hadn't realised until seeing her just how much she had missed the older woman. Steve hadn't liked the idea of Millie replacing his mom - and neither had Millie - but Anna had liked her right away. But she'd never considered her any kind of mother-figure until now. She didn't know if it was because Millie was pregnant, because her own mother had taken off again only days after Millie, or because Millie had treated her better than her own mother had.
Whatever it was, it sure made Anna wish things were different.
Millie was nodding. "Yeah, but … you gotta do me this one favour and not say anything about the baby, okay? Not to John or Steve."
"I won't say anything," she promised. "I just - it was real nice seeing you again."
"Take care, kid."
Once Millie left, Anna leaned against the counter and let out a deep sigh. Shit.
How can one little street
Swallow so many lives?
A/N: Thanks to RileysMomma for beta-reading. Reviews are appreciated :)
