Disclaimer: I own nothing, no books written by S.E. Hinton or the song "Drain You" by Nirvana.

Chapter Twelve

--It is now my duty to completely drain you...--

Somehow she knew he would be at Buck's, laughing and bragging about how tough he was for stabbing a fifteen year old.

When she walked inside and saw him with a group of boys, her stomach dropped. It surprised her to realize how much she knew him although they dated for a month.

The four boys saw Sylvia walking towards them, and all but Rick left. Sylvia grabbed a bottle of beer and took a sip before heading closer to him.

"Fredrick fucking Matchet, you are such a jerk!"

He shrugged and smiled. "If I had a nickel."

"What?" she snapped, wishing more than anything to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. "Rick, you know what I'm talking about."

He just looked at her with pride, shrugging his shoulders as if it was nothing.

"Get that goddamn smile off your face."

"It's a free country, ain't it?"

"Go to hell," she spat. "After what you did to Craig Summers it makes me fucking sick just lookin' at you."

He snorted. "Jesus, you got—"

"Don't interrupt me. He's just a little kid, and you gave Tim another reason to beat the shit outta you once he gets out. How do you feel 'bout that?"

"...says the girlfriend who's been cheatin' on him since he went in."

She heard a few people snicker. Her face heated and she wondered if it was from anger or embarrassment. "Change the subject, why don't you. You stabbed him, Rick. He could've been killed. Are you that self-centered? Jus' because of your stupid gang?"

"My gang ain't stupid," he shot back, standing up. "I take my boys seriously, y'hear? You're lucky I ain't been drinkin' tonight."

"What would you do if you was drinking?" Sylvia then became aware of the amount of people watching. "Nothin' to see here," she snapped.

"Just a tramp yellin' at a smart man. C'mon, babe, ain't you gonna wish me a happy birthday?"

That was when Sylvia threw her beer bottle at him, spat on him, and stormed out of the bar.

--

School was absolutely unbearable. Everywhere Sylvia walked, people were snickering and pointing at her, whispering into each other's ears. She had never really liked to be the center of attention – especially when it did something negative to her reputation.

What really pissed her off, though, was that no one had even bothered to ask her what happened. They would just take in Rick's side of the story and make Sylvia the enemy.

After lunch at math class, Jill made sure to get the real details.

"How come you threw a beer bottle at Rick Matchet?" she asked casually, her eyes on the chalkboard. Sylvia was surprised to hear her talk. Ever since their argument, Jill and Linda had ignored her as much as they could.

" 'Cause the fucker deserved it."

"Huh," Jill muttered, chewing on her pencil, and then shrugged. "Seems like a weird thing to do."

Sylvia snorted. "He stabbed a little boy, so I don't know which situation sounds weirder."

Then they were quiet. Sylvia had wished more than anything for Jill to say another word to her, but she didn't. She enjoyed the fact that someone wanted to know what really happened.

Everyone was taking things a bit to far. Just like how the moment Sylvia stepped out of the school, she heard,

"Did he fucking touch you?"

She jumped nearly a mile and realized it was Dallas, staring at her with his cold eyes. "Tell the truth, Sylvia, 'cause I'll know it if you're lyin'."

"No, he didn't touch me. I would've ripped his eyes out if he did."

"Good. I swear it, that guy's gonna have something comin' to him." They walked together slowly towards the parking lot. "So you really threw the bottle at him, huh?"

"Yeah, I sure as hell did. He deserved it."

He nodded. "I'm sure he fucking did. Blazing glory, I'd like to kill him."

She scratched her neck uncomfortably. "Well...you won't have to. I bet Tim'll take care of him for me."

"How long's he been in for? A few fuckin' months?"

Sylvia nodded.

"He ain't gettin' out for a while. Knowing the idiot he is, he'll probably get thrown straight back in. You gotta face it, sweetheart, 'cause you're on your own. No one's gonna help you in this fucking world."

"You think I don't know that?" she snapped. "You think I have to have someone look after me? I didn't need no help on Saturday, I don't need no help now."

She stormed away and looked around for her bus.

"I got a car you know," Dallas said, catching up to her.

"I got a bus to catch, you know." From the corner of her eye, she could see the laughter in his face. "You're wastin' your time, comin' here just to see me."

He laughed out loud. "You think I came here to see you? Someone thinks a little highly of herself."

She glared at him.

Dallas sighed. "I'm drivin' my buddies. The car they normally got broke down. They won't care if you come."

"Yeah? Well, I might."

"You ain't still mad at me for the other night?"

Sylvia felt her nose twitch. "Maybe."

He smiled at her, and she turned her face away to hide her own smile. There was no way he could tell she didn't mind the way he was acting.

"Come on," he pressed on, looking at her pleadingly. "Then at least help me schedule our next date."

"If there is one."

"Quit playin' hard to get. You know you want me."

She couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Is that what you think I'm doin'?"

"Sure seems like it to me."

"Fine," she said, shrugging. They started parting ways as Sylvia spotted her bus. "You can have me on Saturday night. Pick me up, and try to impress me."

He raised an eyebrow. "Won't be no problem."

She scrunched her nose. "Look pretty for me, will ya?"

He put his hand over his chest. "Ouch, Syl."

She put on a smile. "I'll see you then. Oh, an' make sure you don't drink too much. You can't really handle liquor too well, anyway."

Dallas's face quickly switched to angry, and before he could react she jumped onto her bus with butterflies in her stomach.

--

"Did you get your report card today?"

Sylvia jumped and put her hand on her chest. "Mom? What are you doing home so early?"

"The place was empty, so I got to leave," Beth replied. "So, let me see your marks."

The blond hesitated as she opened her notebook and pulled out an envelope. She passed it to her mother slowly. Beth smiled, opened it up and gazed at it for what seemed like an hour.

"Is this a mistake?"

"Well...not really..."

Beth sat on the couch with her eyes on the report card. "Sylvia, you failed this many subjects?"

"It ain't my fault. My teachers all hated me."

"You...you have to go to summer school?"

"I don't have to."

They were silent as Beth examined the marks again and again. Sylvia wandered to the kitchen and sat at the table, closely watching her mother struggle to comprehend what Sylvia was about to say.

"It says they won't let you go to grade twelve if you don't go to summer school or repeat the grade."

The blond folded her hands on the table. "Well, if I don't go to school no more, I don't have to."

"Do you want to quit school?"

"Um..." Sylvia couldn't figure out why she was so scared to step up to her mother. "Yeah. I do."

Beth seemed calm as she replied, "There is no way in hell you're dropping out of school."

"It ain't that bad," she argued. "A lot of kids I know have, and they're just fine. You know, I have a friend who's got a job and everything. She's doin' okay."

"I don't care what other people are doing, Sylvia. You're staying in school, and there's nothing more to say about it."

Sylvia rolled her eyes. "Come on, Mom, don't be so dramatic."

"Do you think your father would want you to just quit?"

She gripped the table cloth as hard as she could. It was only on rare occasions when Beth mentioned something about Jon, and Sylvia didn't really like to talk about him. She breathed slowly to calm herself.

"I guess that don't really matter right now, does it?"

Beth glanced at her daughter. "Sylvia, please, don't say things like that."

She didn't reply.

"Honey, I want you to think about this."

"I been thinking about this all damn year, and if you don't want me to quit, you still got Judy and James to get an education."

"Do you really want them to think they can drop out, too?"

Sylvia shrugged. "Just get Bill to stop them."

Beth sighed. "What could you do for a job, anyway? Be a waitress for the rest of your life?"

"You're a barmaid, Mom, so don't be such a goddamn hypocrite."

"I want you to have an education and have a career you want. Don't end up like me, Sylvia, with someone I'm depending on for money. You should never be in my situation. You should do whatever you can to stay out of it."

"What do you mean, you depend on someone?"

"Bill pays most of the mortgage, Sylvia. I wouldn't be able to pay it myself."

Sylvia shrugged. "If you two divorced, he'd have to pay you some money for James and Judy, wouldn't he?"

"Well, yes, but in realistic matters, I depend on him to make sure your siblings have a father."

"Then you should get him to quit drinkin'."

"That's a lot easier said than done. I have tried to talk to him about it, but he doesn't listen."

She rolled her eyes. "Please, Mom, you ain't said shit to him."

"Sylvia, don't swear."

She shrugged and tapped her fingernails on the table. Beth returned her eyes to the television set, seeming angry and upset.

"Well, you could tell him you want a divorce."

"What would Judy and James think?"

"I got over it," she snapped. "They will."

"Sylvia...you were a year old when your father and I separated. Judy's turning fifteen this winter, and James is turning twelve soon enough. They'll be crushed."

She shrugged again and stood up. "Is it better for them to see Bill in the state he's in right now?"

She started her way down the hall and stopped dead in her tracks. Judy was there, leaning against the wall, a frown on her face. Had she been listening to the conversation between Beth and her? Did she hear that Beth wanted Bill out?

"Are Ma and Dad breaking up?" she asked in tears, and Sylvia took her sister role and hugged Judy.