Chapter eleven; thank you to all the reviews I've gotten so far, and kindly keep them coming. :]

I do not own The Outsiders. Only Lisa and Friday are of my creation.

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Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Mmmph…" Steve sat up warily and stared at the clock, then shuddered and tumbled out of his bed. He needed to be at work in fifteen minutes—why hadn't his alarm clock gone off sooner!? Hurriedly, the greaser rushed around, freshening himself up while changing his clothing at the same time. It paid to be a multi-tasker.

In the end, he was able to make it to work, but with only a minute to spare. The manager would've had his head if he'd been just a millisecond late—Steve felt like that guy had it out for him. He probably didn't, though….

Steve entered the convenience store. There was no one around waiting for their car to be serviced, so he figured he'd hang around there for a while. To his surprise, when he entered the area, Friday was waiting for him at the counter. She had a Coke in her hand, and she was sipping it timidly. Soda wasn't anywhere to be seen…again. Steve assumed that their plans to meet up after work were still solid, though—and that his friend would most likely return to work on Monday. Maybe he wanted to start off again with a new week. He could use the weekend as time to smooth some of the painful creases in the drafting situation out.

"Took you long enough," Friday commented tiredly.

"Jesus Christ—what time did you get here, kid? You look like you've been run over by somethin'…." He slithered behind the counter, staring at both the pockets beneath her eyes and the Coke bottle in her hand.

"Uhh, just a little bit ago. But I didn't sleep well last night."

"How come?"

"I'm somethin' of an insomniac…" Friday said admittedly, tossing the empty Coke bottle into the trashcan.

Steve leaned over and fished the bottle from the wastebasket. He tapped it against the counter, then waved it expectantly at Friday.

"Did you plan on payin' for this?"

Friday only stared.

"What…? Oh! I got it from home," she explained. To most people, Steve would've been suspicious of this, but he found himself believing her claim and disposed of the bottle for a second time.

"How's my car?" Friday asked suddenly, flitting over to join Steve behind the counter. He nudged at her, rejecting her presence.

"I didn't know you worked here," he said sarcastically, referring to her entrance to personnel territory.

"I might as well…" Friday mumbled. "I'm here everyday, ain't I?"

Steve had no remark, so he nodded. "Guess so. And your car's…comin' along nicely. I got some done yesterday. But then Evie…" his muttering continued inaudibly, but Friday had heard enough to become curious.

"Evie? Who's that?"

"My ex," Steve answered. "She stopped by yesterday after I kicked you out," he continued, nearing the exit of the convenience store as some tuff-looking car pulled in for gasoline.

Friday trailed after him, just as expected.

"What'd she do?"

"Besides sexually harass me? Nothin'."

Friday's eyes had expanded.

"She…whaaat?"

"It ain't as bad as it sounds," Steve answered, gripping the gas pump and filling the car. "She just wanted me back, that's all. I said no, though." Steve stifled a grin as he noticed the ends of Friday's mouth twitch into a smirk.

"Was she mad?"

"I think so."

The owner of the car thanked and paid Steve as he completed his work. As soon as the car had driven off, Steve began his trudge back to the convenience store, but Friday clutched his elbow to stop him.

"Guess what?"

Steve shook loose her grip.

"Yeah?"

"It's my birthday today." Friday was smiling, and so cutely that Steve couldn't help but to have his answer come off too cheerful-sounding.

"Happy sixteenth!" So her birthday was the twentieth of January? Steve reminded himself mentally to remember that. Girls seemed to hate it when people, male or female, forgot about their birthdays. He had a decent excuse this time, though. Unknowingness wasn't something that could be helped.

"Yeah." Friday giggled her usual girlish chuckle and skipped after him as he reentered the convenience store. "So…uh…you know, you should get me a present," she added. She was only teasing, but Steve took it seriously.

"What d'you…want?" Actually, he had a good idea of what she'd like, but he wanted her to be the one to offer it.

Friday seemed shocked by his questioning.

"Wha…t? I was just joking."

"You were? Oh well, I guess if you don't want anything…" His voice shadowed into quiet, and Friday was nearly hopping up and down.

"Hey! No, I want somethin'. Um…maybe you could give me…" Her eyes danced distantly to the front counter. "I dunno. A soda…?"

Steve gave a slight moan of irritation, but so quietly that Friday couldn't have possibly noticed. He was beginning to realize that if they had any chance of going out, he was going to have to ask. Friday was too timid—in that sense—to comment on the topic herself.

"I've got an idea," Steve announced, which grasped Friday's jittery attention span.

"Yeah…?" Her face was alit with a hopeful little grin.

"Well, not tonight, 'cause I'm meetin' up with Soda after work…but next Friday…maybe you'd like to…" He hesitated, savoring the tension in Friday's expression, "go to a…movie…?" he concluded finally.

"Like uh…like uh…" Friday bit her tongue and swallowed back the lump in her throat, "a date…?"

Steve grinned at her reaction, and responded with a slow, "Yeah. You could call it that."

"R-really?! I-I mean—yeah, I'd lik—love—to go. Definitely. Yeah. Uhh, so, Friday…? What time?"

"Seven-ish. That's when the first movie starts." Friday had a look of perplexity on her face, so Steve clarified. "Nightly Double. Ain't you ever been to the drive-in?"

"Oh, no. I haven't. That'll be…great." She smiled, but somewhat nervously now. In all the films Friday had watched, the drive-in had been a place mainly for…kissing. Maybe that was just in the movies, but it still made her feel anxious. She'd only kissed one other guy, and at the age of thirteen—which felt like a millennium ago. Was there even a secluded possibility that Steve would want to kiss her, or was he just being nice about this whole "date" situation…? "Yeah. Great…uh, listen, I'm gonna head home. S-see you…Monday morning?"

"Yeah. See you."

Friday left without another word, though she was biting her nails as she exited.

Steve smiled to himself and swabbed at the counter with a dish towel. It had some Coke splattered on to it—probably from Friday. While he wiped the liquid off, though, he couldn't help but to be somewhat…afraid. Not because of the mess or because of anything obvious, but because he had an aching feeling he was as restless about his and Friday's date the next week as she was. That meant that the "No Friday" con of possibly going to Vietnam was just getting more and more potent.