A/N: There was a bit in the second chapter about Angela getting married, because this fic was originally intended to take place after TWTTIN, but from reading the book again I figure the wedding happened around December, so it was moved into this chapter.

I know Christine's sort of sappy in this chapter, but she's a sixteen-year-old girl with a crush. What do you expect?

Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders or That Was Then, This Is Now by S.E. Hinton. This fic is written purely for my own entertainment, and hopefully yours.

Chapter Ten: School Gossip and Winter Dances

Melanie was out of school for a week with a particularly nasty bout of strep. I visited her every day with her homework and a batch of daily gossip and magazines. (My mother made me call from her house every day.) We had plenty to talk about; all anyone could talk about at school was Angela Shepard, who had evidently just gotten married to Kenny Robinson, a member of her older brother's gang. Of course, people were also saying that she was pregnant, but no one had seen any proof of that yet.

"Really, it's only a matter of time," Melanie was saying on our way out of math class. "After everything that girl's been up to, you really ought to be surprised it didn't happen sooner."

"You mean everything you heard she's been up to," I corrected her.

Mel waved this off. "Details."

"No one really knows what's going on except her." I was trying to be fair, but really, was there much of a defense for a sixteen-year-old wife?

An unladylike snort escaped Melanie. "Yeah, and whatever guy got her in trouble."

"Melanie!" I whispered in embarrassment, checking to see if anyone had overheard her. There were some things you just didn't say out loud, ever. Besides, Melanie was only jealous of Angela, I knew. There weren't many girls at school prettier than Mel, but Angela was. She knew it and Melanie knew it (though Mel would never admit it).

"Excuse me, Miss Manners." Melanie rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I have more important things to talk about than Angela Shepard. You never did tell me, who's taking you to the dance? You do have a date, right?"

"Of couse I do." I should have known she'd bring up the dance again. It was all she could talk about, even when she was holed up in her room.

I knew, though, that Melanie would wind up coming to the Winter Dance, healthy, sick, or dying, so I was glad when she was back in school on Thursday. She had accepted Greg Anderson's invitation to go to the dance since he was captain of the basketball team and no one turned him down.

"Well? Who is it?" Melanie prompted me.

"Dave Richmond asked me." I still felt sort of funny saying it out loud, but I tried to look excited. Melanie sure did.

"That's fantastic!" She squeezed my arm. "Oh, I wish I'd been there! What did he say? What happened?"

Honestly, I could hardly remember. I just remembered promising Cherry and Tricia that I would say yes if he asked me. Boy, I guess everyone was more excited about my own date than I was, because as hard as I tried, I couldn't make myself feel excited for the dance tomorrow.

"Oh, I don't know. He just found me by my locker and asked me."

"What did he act like? Did he seem nervous?" Melanie was prepared to analyze every move David had made, because that was usually what we did whenever she went out with a boy. But this was different. Well, it felt different to me. David wasn't a boy I liked, he was just a nice boy on the track team. That was how I saw him; nothing more.

Unfortunately, not every boy in my life was that easy to categorize.

But I couldn't tell Melanie how I felt about Ponyboy. She just wouldn't understand. Her crushes were cute boys who showed an interest in her. This wasn't just some good-looking boy from class; I was honest-to-goodness, head-over-heels infatuated with Ponyboy Curtis.

"Uh, Mel, I really don't want to talk about this right now, okay?" I said.

"All right, I guess." She looked bewildered, so I decided to change the subject.

"You never showed me your dress for tonight, you know," I reminded her. I was pretty sure I would be able to distract her; talking about herself tended to do that for Melanie.

I was right. She immediately launched into an elaborate description of her new dress while I listened attentively and nodded in all the right places.

xxxx

"Could you turn that down, please?" I shouted over Melanie's blaring record player later that night. "I can't hear myself think."

"Aw, stop being such a bore," Valerie yelled back. She was shimmying into a navy blue chiffon dress and trying to keep her hair in place at the same time. "No one else is home." Melanie's parents had let us in on their way out the door for another one of their fundraisers at the country club. My mother was awful upset because she'd wanted a picture of me in my dress and I'd told her Mr. and Mrs. Walker would take some.

Mom used to let me walk over to Mel's house – she was only a few blocks away – but today she insisted on driving me herself, as if she expected me to walk across town to Ponyboy's place instead. Her excuse was that it was too cold to be out … in ski jackets, scarves, and mittens.

I knew I was grounded, but it still stung to know that my own mother didn't trust me to tell her the truth.

"Oh, be quiet, both of you," Melanie said uninterestedly, never once taking her eyes off her own reflection in her vanity. She was already partway made-up when we got to her house an hour and a half ago, and she was sure to be the last one done.

Valerie and Laurie had been acting even sillier than usual all night – squealing and laughing fit to give me a headache. They were singing and dancing now in front of where I sat on Melanie's bed. I had a feeling they were doing it just to bug me. Even Mel's Beatles record couldn't drown them out. I felt like my head might explode and wondered vaguely why the neighbors hadn't called to complain yet. I was used to being called a killjoy by then, though, so I finally went over and shut off the music.

"You're so boring, Chrissy," Laurie said halfheartedly as she twirled past me in her green dress.

"And you're going to break something," I said sensibly, grabbing onto her arm before she could knock into Melanie's nightstand.

Laurie smiled sheepishly. "Oops."

"Chris, zip my dress for me," Melanie said, standing up from her vanity chair. I rolled my eyes, because she knew I hated being called Chris but she did it anyway. It didn't used to bother me so much, but lately it had really started to bug me.

I zipped her dress and tied the sash for her while she looked in the mirror, patting down her hair. I had spent an hour and an armload of bobby pins ironing it flat and pinning it up in a stylish updo. She looked fantastic.

"Thanks," Melanie said as I adjusted one of her hair pins. She looked me over. "Why aren't you dressed?"

"I was too busy making sure you looked nice," I grumbled, but retrieved my dress from her bed all the same. It was pale pink, and Val said it set off my complexion, but I didn't like it much. It was a little shorter than I was used to.

"Well, don't let me hold you back next time," Mel said waspishly.

"Oh, right." I discarded my skirt and blouse and stepped into my dress. "I'm sure you'd thought about it before –" I stopped myself before I said something I would regret. Laurie, Val, and Mel were all staring at me. "Sorry," I muttered. "I've got a headache."

Melanie glanced back at her reflection in the mirror. "Well, don't take it out on us," she said, tucking a stray piece of hair back into one of the pins.

I bit my tongue – hard – to keep a retort from slipping out. "Will you help me?" I asked instead.

Val reached over to zip my dress for me.

I stared uncertainly into the mirror. I was pretty – I had been told enough times to know it was true – and I dressed well, but sometimes I felt frumpy next to Melanie. She always had the newest shoes and the most daring miniskirts, while I sort of trailed in her footsteps. Now that I was wearing a Melanie-approved dress, though, I felt sort of uncomfortable.

The doorbell chimed downstairs before I had more time to think about it.

"They're here!" Melanie shrieked, clutching at my arm, our tiff already forgotten. David and Greg were picking us all up in Greg's car. We were planning to meet Laurie's and Val's dates at Rusty's.

Laurie, Val, Melanie, and I stepped into our heels, grabbed our nice coats, and clomped our way down the Walkers' marble staircase. Melanie made it to the door first, gave her hair one last pat, and opened the door.

Greg and David stood in the doorway in neat sports coats, dress shirts, and slacks. Greg was grinning with all the confidence of a handsome basketball captain; David's smile was more polite and friendly.

"You look great, Mel," Greg said at once, his eyes taking in her shorter-than-usual dress appreciatively.

"You ladies all look lovely," David said politely, grinning at me. He had a white corsage in one hand, and when I extended my arm, he slid it onto my wrist with practiced ease. Valerie squealed and Laurie pinched my elbow from behind, whispering, "He's a doll!"

Mel's corsage clashed with her dress, but she didn't seem to mind; she and Greg were already down the front steps and halfway to the driveway. I could already hear Melanie chattering away.

xxxx

We piled into Greg's T-bird with the boys in the front and the girls piled in a heap in the back, just like we did for every dance. But for the first time, I felt sort of funny about it. I'd never really noticed before, but no matter what dance it was we were going to, things always turned out the same way. Us girls went with the same boys – or slight variations of the same boys – hung out with the same people, danced with the same people, got trashed together, and voted the same people Princesses and Queens over and over again.

It wasn't just boring. It was … well, I didn't know what it was, but I didn't like it, whatever it was. I felt like everyone was changing except us. Even while everything in society was completely turning around, we, the athletes and the cheerleaders, stayed in our own little bubble, went to our beer blasts and river-bottom parties, and invited new people along with us so other kids would see how hip we were.

I guess I was still looking at things funny to be noticing stuff like this – or maybe it was the rum I'd let Greg mix in with my Coke at dinner. But I couldn't help wondering if this was the way Cherry Valance felt now; the Cherry who'd talked to Ponyboy, not the Cherry we knew.

And then I got to wondering why the two sides of Cherry might as well have been two different people.

xxxx

We got to the dance a little bit late, so things were already swinging. Just like at all the formal dances (the Winter Ball, Spring Fling, and prom), Barbie Atkins, the student body president, was there to greet us with slips of paper and stubby pencils.

"Just pick one girl in each category," she said, rolling her eyes at us like she was trying to show us she understood how annoying it was being instructed on how to place a check in a box that had been drawn for us. Barbie was always trying to show us just how much she could relate to each of us, like she'd forgotten she couldn't be elected again.

David winked at me before placing his ballot in the box. My stomach didn't twist itself in knots like it should have.

"I voted for you, Chrissy," Barbie said, leaning toward me. Her tone was conspiratorial, as if she actually cared whether Mel, Laurie, or Val heard what she'd said.

"Thanks," I said, forcing a smile and glancing at the ballot for the first time.

There was my name, printed in tiny, cramped letters under the words "Junior Snow Princess." Before I could let myself think about it, I placed a check next to my name, Nancy McLaughlin's for the sophomores, Tricia's for the seniors, and Cherry's for Snow Queen. There, I thought. Now everyone would be happy.

"Come on," David said, and I realized that the others had already left. David was going to think I couldn't read or something. I put my ballot in the box, gave Barbie one last smile, and followed David onto the dance floor.

He was a pretty good dancer, and the band was all right, so we danced a lot. David seemed to like it.

When the first slow song came on, we took a break and headed for the punch bowl. Someone had spiked it, because someone always spiked it – sometimes more than one someone. But I took some anyway; I always had a glass or two.

David poured me half a cup full. I took a sip and made a face. Vodka.

Still, I drank it, leaning against the refreshments table, and we chatted with whoever came up to us. Melanie's words about everyone having a vote were ringing in my ears. I made sure I talked to as many people as possible.

I spotted Ponyboy before long, and of course that was when my heart jumped into my throat and my stomach sank down to my feet. It was like getting on a roller coaster. I scolded myself for being so pathetic. He was just wearing his church clothes, I assumed, but something about looking at him made my stomach turn over.

He was dancing with Libby Burns – really, she was draped all over him. It was disgusting, and I was instantly distracted. I don't think David noticed, because I kept on talking, but I really hardly even heard what I was saying. I was glancing over at Pony when I could and wondering. He had told me earlier in the week to "save him a dance," but then he'd pulled gently on one of my braids and asked me if I'd done the chemistry homework. Boys could be absolutely impossible.

"You want to dance, Chrissy?" David asked when a fast song came on again.

"You go ahead; I'm still recovering," I said, forcing a laugh. We had danced to at least five or six songs in a row. "I think I'll sit this one out."

David hesitated, but nodded. "All right." He glanced at a waving and giggling Barbie Atkins, then back at me, and went off to dance with her. At our dances, most boys ended up dancing with other girls at some point. It was one of those unwritten rules that your date was public property during the fast dances, but Barbie's date didn't look all too happy when the pair of them started dancing.

I glanced back at where Ponyboy was, but he was gone, so I poured myself another cup of punch and joined a few girls I knew from classes whose dates were nowhere to be found. I knew the punch was already starting to get to me – it doesn't take much to get me tipsy – so I slowed down. I didn't feel like getting completely pickled tonight, not while my mother acted like she couldn't trust me.

"Where's that date of yours, Chrissy?" Cindy O'Donnell asked with a giggle that tempted me to take her cup of punch away from her before she embarrassed herself. Her friends, all members of the B cheerleading squad, exchanged knowing glances.

"Otherwise engaged," I said airily. When they stared at me, I added, "I just figured I should be talking to people … y'know, not being exclusive."

"Oh." Cindy nodded like she knew exactly what I was talking about. "Well, you can tell him to call me any time." She drained her glass of punch and reached over to refill it.

I raised an eyebrow. David and I certainly weren't dating, but I had been talking about socializing, not trolling for boys.

"Good thing you're keeping your options open," Joanie Grossman said to a spot over my shoulder. I turned to see who had got her attention. Joanie had a notoriously short attention span.

"Ponyboy Curtis?" I blurted out with a nervous giggle. "What would make you think …?"

"We've all seen you with him," Janet Reid put in with a smirk.

My face was hot enough to start a fire. "I don't know what you're talking about." To prove my point, I found David from across the gym. He was talking to Barbie since their song had ended. He glanced over at me and shrugged.

"Well, everyone else does, that's for sure." I jumped when I heard a voice behind me. Cathy Carlson from my chemistry class was standing there. She looked real cute in her dress, even though I was sure it couldn't have cost more than half of what Cindy or Joanie had spent on theirs. Cathy's friends, I had noticed, were mostly girls with more money than her. She wasn't from a really good neighborhood or anything, but she was friendly and cute enough that it didn't matter. She could've been friends with anyone.

"Cathy!" Cindy yelled the way annoying girls did when they were tipsy. "Aren't you here with Bryon?"

Cathy shot me a look, but she had more patience for Cindy than I did, I could tell. I tried to subtly edge myself out of the conversation while politely nodding when Cathy explained that Bryon had opted to sit this dance out. She was here with friends.

I extracted myself from between Janet and Cindy and escaped with my cup of punch. Was I the only person who minded my personal life being discussed right in front of me? For such a big school, gossip sure spread fast at Will Rogers. I was surprised I hadn't been berated by Tricia yet for letting people gossip about me and a boy who wasn't David.

I let myself be distracted, though – like I always did – when I saw Ponyboy instead. This time, he was looking back at me, and he lifted his chin in greeting. He was standing with a couple of his friends and a flock of greaser girls, who hovered around him and Libby.

Libby spotted me then, too. Boy, if looks could kill … She sure was one nasty little thing. Pretty, but nasty. Pony couldn't honestly think she was a nice girl.

I didn't want to go picking any fights – especially not with Libby Burns, who had three older brothers to teach her how to fight – so I looked away until I realized that Ponyboy had actually decided to come over to me.

"You sure look nice," he said in that innocent way of his. My stomach chose that moment to tie itself in knots the way it should've done when David told me the same thing.

"If you want to keep it that way, I'd go back to Libby now," I said, trying to make a joke. "I don't want any blood on this dress."

Pony glanced back at Libby, who was looking ready to kill. "Aw, shoot. She wouldn't do nothin'."

"Are we looking at the same Libby?" I asked incredulously.

That got a laugh out of him. "She's sort of territorial, I guess. I'm starting to wonder if she came with me because she likes me or because she wants to make Anthony Meyers jealous." He shrugged helplessly. "I just can't say anything right to her."

Somehow I doubted that.

"Well, how about that dance?" Ponyboy asked.

"I don't think that's a good idea unless you want my blood on her hands," I said pointedly as the band struck up another fast song.

Pony and I both looked back at Libby, who was busy chatting up a tall, dark-haired boy I didn't recognize. Either that was Anthony Meyers or she was testing out one of Melanie's preferred boy-catching techniques – jealousy. But Ponyboy was grinning at me, and Lord, that smile … I realized I didn't care about Libby Burns and I forgot about finding David.

The song was an old one, with a dance that came with it that was easy enough. All you really had to do was twist around, so there was no way you could look stupid – well, any stupider than anyone else did.

Dancing with Ponyboy was nice, even though the band was playing loud enough that we had to shout at each other in order to be heard. I advised Pony to act mad that Libby was dancing with someone else – girls liked that sort of thing.

Pony was a good dancer, and I couldn't help wondering what it would be like to dance closer to him, with him close enough to touch. My stomach backflipped.

At the end of the song, Pony found Libby and took her aside from where she was dancing with Tall, Dark, and Scary-Looking. I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach. Why was I such an idiot? What sort of girl gives girl advice to a boy she likes, anyway?

"Hey! There you are." It was David. "I was looking for you. Where've you been?"

"Uh, you know," I said lamely. "Around." The band had stopped playing, and the gym seemed oddly quiet as everyone nudged their friends and began whispering. Soon the only sound I could hear was the buzz of gossiping girls.

He grinned, revealing perfect white teeth. "Well, I'm glad I found you. I think they're about to announce the Winter Court. Look."

Barbie Atkins was making her way up onstage, her green silk dress shiny under the bright spotlights. She took the microphone the singer handed to her.

"Hey, everyone. It's time" – she paused to giggle modestly when a few boisterous senior boys broke into applause, most likely because of the rather low-cut dress she was wearing – "to announce this year's Winter Court. As always, we nominate girls for the Winter Court during the weeks leading up to the dance so each girl has time to find the right dress and the right date." She giggled again. "The girl with the most votes from each class is crowned a Snow Princess, and the senior with the most votes becomes the Snow Queen."

Melanie, Laurie, and Val had squeezed themselves in beside me while Barbie was talking.

"So this year's senior Snow Princess is … Tricia Hogan!"

"Boy, what a surprise," Laurie whispered to me as Tricia jumped up onto the stage, wearing a huge smile. Barbie handed her a silver plastic crown and a long-stemmed rose.

I was hardly paying attention, though, because I knew the juniors would be next. Melanie clutched my hand. I decided that whoever had nominated me could go straight to hell. If I lost, it would be humiliating; I'd have to stand there and smile like a good sport while –

"… Come on up here, Chrissy!"

What?

Melanie squealed. Val squealed. Laurie squealed. David kissed me on the cheek. But I stood frozen in place – unable to move. Finally, Mel gave me a shove and I stumbled forward, dazed.

The trip up to the stage was much longer than it looked. It was strange having everyone's eyes on me. It was like they were waiting for me to trip and fall and make a fool of myself. But I didn't. Somehow, I made it up onto the stage with the hot spotlight following my every move. People were clapping, and everyone was staring at me, and it was actually pretty embarrassing …

I tried to hide my face, an automatic reaction from staring into a spotlight, but Tricia pulled my hands down and hugged me. Barbie handed me my tiara and my flower, and I stood next to Tricia, staring down at the people below.

A sophomore I didn't recognize, a Tricia look-alike, was crowned sophomore Snow Princess, and I didn't have the heart to look for Nancy in the crowd of girls as I hugged this sophomore I didn't even know, whispered a congratulations, and smiled encouragingly (the poor thing looked like a deer in headlights).

"And now, your Snow Queen for this year's Winter Ball … Cherry Valance!"

The spotlight moved, searching for Cherry, but I spotted her red hair before it did. She was surrounded by a cluster of senior cheerleaders and a few other girls. They all began squealing just like Mel, Laur, and Val had for me, and I watched pretty little Angela Shepard, standing with her date, roll her eyes disgustedly as Cherry modestly accepted her gold crown and bouquet of flowers.

I wondered if I had seemed that fake, and then immediately felt bad. Cherry wasn't trying to be fake … it just came off that way.

Cherry gave me a hug. She smelled like lavender.

When we were finally allowed off the stage, I got down as quickly as I could without putting myself in any immediate danger of high heel-related injuries. Melanie and the others were waiting for me near the bottom of the makeshift stage. Cherry squeezed my arm and took off with Tricia, Sharon, and her date while I scanned the crowd. I spotted a few of Libby's girl friends, but Ponyboy was nowhere in sight.

"Come on, Chrissy." Laurie linked her arm through mine. "Let's find out about an after-party. We can celebrate." The dance was almost over anyway, and there were always a few parties going on after a school dance.

I let her pull me off without telling her my mother would never let me go to a party while I was supposed to be grounded. How much more trouble could I possibly get into?