Dislcaimer: S.E. Hinton Owns the Outsiders. Snow Patrol owns the song. I own Sam.

Ch. 4 - Hands Open, Arms Open

I wanna hear you laugh like you really mean it,

collapse into me tired with you.

Steve's P.O.V.

OH MY GOD! Soda smiled. I'll be damned. First, I walk in here to find an absolutely gorgeous girl in a jumpsuit under the car I was working on yesterday. Then, so much better, she introduces herself to Soda and he smiles. A real smile. The kind he's famous for, none of this half-assed bullshit he's been feeding us lately. No, that was real.

Coming out of my excited stupor, I saw that they were both just standing there, looking at each other, hands still clasped. "So, Sam," I began, hoping to wake them both up, even as much as I loved the awkward pause. "You're the new guy?"

Sam laughed as she took a step back, tearing her eyes from Sodapop's in what seemed to be a concentrated effort. "I don't often get called a guy, but sure! That's me," she replied confidently. "If you're like everyone else I've ever met, you'll probably laugh at me and tell me that cars are for boys and that I—"

"No!" Soda quickly put in. "Cars are for anyone who wants them and we love that you're here." He looked a little sheepish, but was still smiling.

"Well, isn't that sweet of you? Thank you," Sam replied. "I grew up with 3 brothers I desperately wanted to look tuff in front of because I was kind of a geek. So, my oldest brother, Jake, taught me to work on cars. It took me a few months to get the hang of, but after that, I could stand around with the guys and talk shop all day long. That was when barely 13, but even now, a few years down the road, I still love to talk shop," she ended with a smile.

Holy shit, I thought. This is the perfect woman. I would ask her to marry me right now if I hadn't seen that smile on Soda's face. "So how old are you now and why don't I know you? I feel like any chick with three brothers who know cars, I'd know," I said, trying to sound casual.

"Well, I'm 17 now. I graduated school last year, though. Like I said, I'm kind of a geek. I started school early and got moved up a grade. And you probably don't know me because I moved from Oklahoma City after graduation. My mom died when I was a kid, and my dad's a rodeo nut. After I graduated, I guess he felt like I was old enough to take care of things myself, so long as I was with my brothers, and so he sold the house, bought a small one here on the East side for us kids to live in, and off he went. So, for now anyway, it's just me and the boys. Jake's 24 and he stayed in Oklahoma City. He had an apartment there anyway, and his job's all set. He works in an office doing some banking stuff. I don't really know all of what he does because I was still a kid when he left home. Toby's 22, and he lives here with us. He got a job a couple towns over managing a grocery store. He watches out for us, but he's pretty cool. I guess he knows we can take care of ourselves. Owen's 19, and he's got himself a job with a construction company. He's started making friends, but I think it's hard for him, not knowing anybody. Then there's me. I was at home, doing all the cooking and cleaning and stuff, but I really missed the cars, and havin' some extra money never hurt nobody, so here I am. Part time."

"That's great, Sam," Soda said, having intently listened to every word she said. "I live with my brothers a few streets over, and Steve here's from the east side too. We've been friends for years. There's 3 more of us you gotta meet too. Darry's my older brother, and he's a roofer. He's taken care of us since my parents died a few months ago…"

"I'm sorry, " she jumped in, looking truly apologetic.

"Naw, it's okay. Darry's doing a good job, although sometimes he's a little rough on my little brother Ponyboy. He's 14, and he got moved up a grade too, so he's in high school. Just started the 10th grade. Then there's also Two-bit. He's a wise-ass, always making jokes and stuff. He said he might stop by at lunch today with Pony. Maybe you'll get to meet them."

I smiled as Soda rambled on for another minute or so, but then realized I had a lot of work to do today, including training Sam, though she looked pretty capable. This new boss thing might be okay, I decided.

"Well, it nice talkin' and all, but we ought to be getting to work, I think." I said.

"Oh, right! Gosh, here I am blabbing away. I gotta get out and pump some gas. See ya!" Soda threw over his shoulder as he walked into the store.

"So, boss, what's on the schedule today?" Sam asked. "I was rebuilding that carburetor when you came, like the note on the windshield said."

Oh yeah, I'm definitely gonna like this boss thing. Today is a good day.

Soda's P.O.V.

"See ya!" I called as I went to start my day, totally befuddled on what the hell just happened. Did I really just talk? Did I smile? Why didn't it hurt? My god, I must be going crazy.

I opened the register, turned on the pumps, all like every other day these last few months, but I felt totally different. I felt. I hadn't felt in a long time, and here I was getting all these happy thoughts and vibes, all because of some pretty girl? No, Sam wasn't just pretty, although she definitely was that. No, she was gorgeous, beautiful even, not just pretty.

As I finished my regular chores for the morning, my mind wandered to the red-headed beauty just a room away. I'm not real tall, but she was a good head shorter than me, maybe 5' 3" or so. Her hair was long, down most of her back from what I could tell, and had a real pretty natural curl to it. It didn't look like she'd done much with it, and I think I liked that about her. She wasn't fussing to look good; she was going to work. Her face wasn't all painted like other greaser girls, and her jumpsuit was much more practical and sensible than the shit I usually see in here. Her skin was pale, almost porcelain colored and I wanted to touch it.

Damn! Did I just think that? I haven't felt this way in months. Girls come here every day, some more conventionally pretty than Sam, and they throw themselves at me in short skirts and heels, and all I've thought for months is how none of them will ever compare to Sandy, how Sandy was different and I'll never get over her.

But Sam? She really is different. I can just tell.

God, it feels good to feel again. Life is looking up.