Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns The Outsiders. Elvis Presley owns "Can't Help Falling In Love."
Wise men say
Only fools rush in
But I can't help falling in love with you
December 4, 1971
It was safe to say that Steve Randle was . . . a nervous wreck. Oh, he wasn't ever in a million years going to admit that to anyone, but he was internally feeling more anxious than ever. It couldn't at all have anything to do with the fact that he was getting married to Evelyn Lisa Martin that particular day . . . in just a few short hours, no less. Still, his heart was thumping away in his chest, his hands feeling more clammy with each passing second. This was very unlike him. Steve wasn't the type of guy to ever get nervous; he was more calm, more sure of himself. Today, however, he was anything but. He could remember feeling slightly similar the night he had asked Evie to marry him, but this was something entirely different.
Honestly, it felt almost surreal in a sense to Steve. He couldn't believe that this day was finally here, that he and Evie would be married—they would officially be man and wife by the end of the day. Hell, it felt even more weird that Soda and Mary were engaged . . . as of two weeks ago. The news hadn't come as a shock to him, or anyone else for that matter. Steve had a feeling that Soda was going to ask Mary to marry him soon. He was excited for his best buddy, and he wondered where their lives would take them in the next few years. Speaking of that, Steve had surprising news of his own, something that only Soda was aware of. He wanted it to be a gift to Evie, something he knew would make her happy.
After weeks of endless searching, Steve was able to find the perfect house for them to start their married life in together. It wasn't even far from where they lived currently, but there was enough distance between it and Mr. and Mrs. Martin's house that Evie wouldn't feel like she was right on top of them—Steve thought that it might offer her a small feeling of independence and freedom. But it was still close enough should she ever need them.
By no means was the house anything superb or too much. Steve thought that it was perfect for the two of them . . . and possibly their future children. That thought was enough to make his eyes bulge ever so little, but it was something he had taken into consideration. Hell, he knew that Evie wanted to have kids one day—a boy and a girl—much like he did.
"You okay, man?" came Soda's inquiring voice, and Steve adjusted his tie for umpteenth time, his brows furrowing as his lips pressed together.
A nod. "Yeah," he answered, not exactly sounding honest. "Just thinking, you know . . ."
"I can imagine," Soda replied, stepping into the room. There was an expression of innate understanding formed on his face, and Steve glanced through the mirror to meet his gaze. "I think you always knew that you were gonna marry Evie," Soda continued with a chuckle. "I think we all did."
At that, Steve cracked a rare grin. "Maybe." And then he gave up on the tie altogether, deciding to let it hang loosely around his neck. "I just didn't think this day would come so quickly."
Taking a seat on the bed, his friend rested his elbows on his legs, shoulders slumped forward. "I reckon I can understand that." He appeared thoughtful for a moment. "I wonder what it'll be like . . . when Mary and I are married."
"Funny you should say that," Steve responded, sitting on the desk chair. He never imagined that he would be getting ready for his wedding at his friend's house, but . . . in some way, there was no other place that felt more like home. He had spent more time at the Curtis's house than he did at his own home, and since his own father wouldn't be making an appearance at his wedding, it seemed only fitting to spend his day with friends—the people who truly cared about him. A sigh escaped his mouth as he studied his shoes, wiggling his toes to break them in a little, or at least, adjust them a bit so that they were comfortable around his feet. They were Darry's after all, and having only worn them two or three times made them feel brand new. He and Darry were the only two who wore the same size shoe; Soda's were a size too small. "I was actually thinking about Evie and I . . . and you and Mary," Steve continued. "I was wondering where we'll all end up . . ."
Soda was quiet for a minute. It felt funny in a way that he and Ponyboy recently had a conversation very similar to this one, but the weight of it was only now beginning to settle in his own mind. It didn't feel all that long ago to Soda that he and Steve were just little kids in elementary school, meeting for the first time at recess. He could remember his friend like it was yesterday—even then he had come off as bitter and reserved, but in some way, a cool ol' guy. Soda had liked him from the start, even though a lot of their peers hadn't. It wasn't because Steve was mean or off-putting, but he liked to keep to himself, and he had a very . . . distinct way that he came off sometimes, like he was sure of himself. He had always been smart, a trait Soda silently felt jealous of. There were times throughout junior high and their early high school days when Steve had to help him with school work, or else he would have failed every single one of his classes. It was something nobody else but the two of them knew about, for Soda had always felt a little embarrassed about it.
"I think . . . wherever any of us ends up, we'll be alright," he finally said, his tone light. It was the truth, though, he thought. They would all make out alright for themselves, even Soda, who never thought he would amount to anything more than an underpaid mechanic, or gas station manager. "At least, in the long run, we've got each other."
Steve nodded in agreement. "Yeah."
With a large grin, Soda moved to his feet. "Enough of that sappy shit, though." He nodded his chin in Steve's direction, eyes bright and lively. "It's your wedding day for Pete's sake."
And the older of the friends had to laugh. Even after all this time, even after everything he had been through and endured, Soda had remained care-free and high-spirited. For the most part, he didn't let anything get him down . . . and he certainly wasn't going to on his best friend's wedding day. Shoot, thought Steve . . . but even as things did change between them, as well as around them, somehow they managed to stay the same.
Or at least that's how he wanted to think of it.
"Do I hear laughter in here?" Two-Bit asked, poking his head inside Soda's old room. He eyed the two of them with a plastered smile of his own. "I certainly hope y'all ain't starting the party without me."
And that's when Ponyboy walked up, his own tie still undone, his hair hardly combed. "There is no party without you, Two-Bit," he cracked, draping an arm around his shoulders.
Two-Bit nodded good-naturedly. "See that?" he said, jerking his head in Ponyboy's direction. "Even the kid knows what's good." And then he glanced at Steve, taking note that his expression still looked a little . . . off, though not in a bad way. "What's wrong with you?" he questioned, his voice light and airy. "You lookin' for someone to fix your makeup, or style your hair?" He laughed at his own words, taking a quick swig of Pepsi. "I'm sure Darry wouldn't mind helping you with either now would you, Superman?"
Darry, who had just walked out of his bedroom, playfully whacked his friend in the head with his damp towel, shaking his head as he did. The sound of the door opening and closing alerted Darry's attention to the living room, and as he walked out, he was met with the sight of Dallas Winston standing in the entryway, his face void of emotion, his hands stuffed inside his pockets as he looked around the room, his eyes settling on Darry's form. But Darry nodded at him once in welcome; it had been quite some time since the towheaded former hood had set foot in his house.
"How you doin', Dal?" he asked, sticking his hand out for him to shake, which he did.
A shrug. "Been better. Just dropped Ella off at Evie's place, and figured I ought to drop by." There was a fraction of his lips curving up—you had to look to really see it. "Where is the groom anyway?"
"Playing hide and seek," came Two-Bit's quip, and Ponyboy snorted as he walked out to greet their old friend, followed by the rest of the group.
For the first time in a long time, things felt like they were going to be okay . . . and Steve felt the nervousness he had been feeling earlier shift from his shoulders as he talked and laughed among his buddies, a lighter energy about the room.
Evie was feeling more giddy and excited than she ever felt in her entire life. She was surrounded by her family and her best friends, and she was mentally counting down the hours until she would become Mrs. Steven Randle. Evelyn Lisa Martin Randle. She had imagined this day coming since she had met Steve back in high school, fantasized that one day he would ask her to be his wife, and she would say yes of course . . . and this day—their wedding day—would arrive, making her dream a reality. The thing was, it was no longer a fantasy conceived inside of her head—it was reality, and Evie had to close her eyes several times that day and reopen them just to be sure that it wasn't just a dream.
Hell, sometimes she still felt like that teenage girl back in school, daydreaming about her life and her future . . . and Steve. She could remember with innate clarity the day he had officially asked her out. She was still working at the hospital in the gift shop when he had come in to ask her out, ditching his own friends just to spend an evening with her. A flush coated her cheeks as she remembered how cute he had looked, his eyes on her own, the softest she had ever seen them . . . and they were all for her, only for her.
Her stomach did a flip as she thought about everything that they had been through together, everything that they had endured since becoming a couple, since the day he had asked her to go steady, and then the day he had asked her to be his wife—how much time had past between this moment and those ones. It almost didn't feel like that much time had past, but when Evie allowed herself to indulge in days gone by, she realized that so much had really happened, and it really had been so long ago.
"Earth to Evie," Beth said, adjusting a curl in her hair. Evie winced as Beth tugged a little too hard. "I can't get this damn clip to stay straight," she whined after a few seconds, an aggravated sigh following behind. "Gees, could you at least hold still?"
And even though she was slightly irritated with her younger sister right then, Evie had to chuckle in spite of it. "Hell," she replied, and ground her teeth as Beth gave another tug. "You're beginning to sound just like me." Tug. "Ouch!" That was all it took for Evie to shove Beth aside, figuring that she could simply finish her hair herself. "But you could never do hair right to save your life."
"Well," Beth huffed, "that's why you and Mom are the beauticians."
Evie looked back at her through her vanity mirror. "Right. But you're the fashion designer."
With a small flip of her own hair, Beth grinned. "You've got that right."
"Y'all could probably run an empire," Ella said as Mary dusted some blush over her cheeks. "I bet it would be something incredible."
"Probably," Beth agreed, a spark in her dark eyes. "But knowing me and Evie, we would probably kill each other during the first week."
"If not on the first day," Evie chimed in, and helped herself to some cut up fruit slices Mary had brought. "But you're right, Ella," she pointed out. "It would be something incredible."
Ella smiled. She was happy for both of her friends right then, she really was; Evie was getting married to Steve in just a few short hours, and Mary and Soda were officially engaged. Even Beth, Evie's younger sister, had been in a solid relationship going on two years straight. Each of Evie's cousins and other friends of the family that she had met were with somebody. Ella wasn't jealous, but she felt . . . a little . . . on the outside of her friend group. Everyone that was coming had a date, for the most part. She supposed that Dallas and her were each other's dates, though they weren't together . . . they weren't a couple. It's not that she truly cared so much, but there was a part of her that was yearning for something, or yearning to feel something more. She didn't quite understand it, but she knew that there were multiple feelings swirling around in the pit of her gut.
"You excited, Evie?" Mary questioned, offering her older friend a smile. "You don't even seem one bit nervous."
Beth giggled across the room. "I know I'll be on my wedding day. I can't imagine what's it's going to be like with everyone watching me and Joe at the alter."
Her sister shot her a dark look.
Jesus H. Christ, but Evie really didn't want to imagine everyone watching her walk up the aisle, and Beth's words had only created a monstrosity of an image. It wasn't that Evie Martin was a nervous person—no, she was quite confident in herself and didn't pay too much mind to the opinions of others, especially when they were degrading . . . ones she considered to be invalid. Hell, who was anyone to judge her anyway?
Still, looking at everyone else wasn't exactly on her agenda for that day. She was only content with the idea of focusing on Steve, who told her he would meet her at the alter. Even though there were butterflies swarming around in her lower gut, Evie didn't consider herself to even feel remotely anxious. Beth had always been the more nervous of the two, even though she had spent countless of days trying to be just like Evie. It was some time in her teens when Beth decided on giving up her dream of becoming Evie's twin and ventured out in finding herself. Honestly, Evie was quite proud of her kid sister—she really was. She believed that Beth would really make a great fashion designer, as it was her dream . . . and even if Evie wasn't there beside her in their fantasized empire, she knew that Beth would fair just fine on her own.
Still . . .
"That's alright, Beth," she said, picking at a piece of pineapple. "You can be. I, however, only have eyes for Steve."
Mary snorted as she fluffed out her hair. "Honestly, I'll be nervous on my wedding day, too." Her brows pressed together as she made a face. "I can imagine Soda will be the exact opposite."
"I don't think Soda knows how to be embarrassed," Evie replied, although her tone was light. "Steve was always the more reserved of the two. Soda . . ." She paused, thinking of the right way to describe her fiance's best friend. "I don't think he's really phased by anything that way. He's always been overly confident . . . even though Steve is, too."
"I'll say," Mary responded, and took a seat on the end of Evie's bed beside Ella.
Evie sighed as she looked herself over in the mirror. She had to admit—although it wasn't with vanity or anything—that she thought she looked good, real good in fact. Her hair was wrapped atop her head in fluffy ringlets, some strands hanging down the nape of her neck and over her forehead. Her makeup was done to perfection, thanks to the help of her mother and Aunt Lisa. Her friends had helped her with her nails, a light shade of pale pink coating her nail-beds. Her engagement ring shined against the light of the sun, which was streaming through her bedroom window and reflecting in the mirror. It was at this very moment that Evie felt the weight of her reality fixing itself upon her shoulders.
She would be a married woman by the end of the day.
For some reason that she couldn't quite understand right then, it suddenly all felt surreal. The laughter and smiles of her friends around her faded into the background as Evie's childhood and teenage years of rebellion flashed before her eyes . . . lulling her back into a time which no longer existed, except in her own memories. She saw herself through girlhood and adulthood, and when she glanced at her reflection through the vanity mirror once again, she saw herself as the young woman that she had blossomed into, no longer small enough to hide behind her mother, or have her father toss her up into the air as she belted out fits of giggles. No longer did she and Beth bite off the ends of their french fries and laugh ridiculously among each other, other people giving them odd looks because they didn't understand what was so funny about "endless fries".
But Evie also saw those moments in the eyes of herself . . . reflections of each fraction of her life that had made her into the person she was now.
Her yesterdays were only her tomorrows, and the people who mattered the most to her—the ones she loved, and who loved her—were by her side each step of the way.
Her mother stepped into the room, a smile on her face as she eyed her oldest daughter. "Are you about ready to put on your wedding dress?" she asked, nodding once to the clock on Evie's and Beth's shared dresser.
And Evie nodded.
Yes. Yes, she was.
Steve took a few deep breaths, his eyes catching Soda's who merely gave him a look of encouragement, or at least one of reassurance. Steve had spent the last several minutes going over his vows in his head, the nervousness he had been feeling earlier only seeming to expand. For a second or so, his throat had tightened up, and he had to wonder why on God's green Earth he was feeling like this. Nothing ever seemed to stir him, nothing got under his skin. Oh, things had bothered him before—heavy things—like when Mr. and Mrs. Curtis were killed, or when Johnny died and Dallas was shot—even when Two-Bit nearly killed himself in that drunken accident a few years back.
But this?
He was excited, truly he was. He had imagined a future together with Evie for what seemed like forever and then some. He had counted down every day until he could see her again while he was away in the military. He had kept every single one of her letters . . . save for the few that had gotten sabotaged, but even the gifts she had gotten him throughout their years as a couple, he had kept. He never wanted to forget anything where it concerned her, or them.
Looking to the side, he saw Soda, Darry, Two-Bit, Ponyboy, Dallas, and his cousin Jacob. On his other side, he saw Evie's sister Beth, her cousin Chelsea, her childhood friends Andra and Bailey, and finally Ella and Mary. His gaze skimmed over both sides of the room, looking at Evie's family and their friends, and then his family and friends. There weren't many on either side, but there had been a lot more attendees on Evie's side than his own. Hell, his own father wasn't even there, and there was a part of Steve that felt . . . disappointed and even ashamed.
His thoughts, however, were cut short when everyone stood up and turned to face the back of the room, Steve's eyes following as his heartbeat picked up in his chest . . .
His mind seemed to quiet itself, everything else coming to a halt as he looked at Evie on the arm of Mr. Martin, who was doing his best to restrain the tears in his eyes.
Evie's eyes met his own, a smile ghosting her lips.
Each step that she took forward brought her closer to Steve.
Evie was blatantly aware of everyone else around her, grins adorning their faces as they looked at her, lowly saying how beautiful that she looked. But Evie barely heard them. She could feel her father's arm supporting her, his own hand gripping hers as if he was somewhat afraid that he would fall himself. She wouldn't doubt if his own legs felt as wobbly as hers did. Mr. Martin would never admit it, but even though he always knew this day would come for Evie and Steve, it had brought on a string of emotions, ones he had been trying his best to keep concealed. Oh, but Evie knew better, and she turned once to give her father a small smile.
It was only moments later that he was giving her hand to Steve's, before turning to stand beside her mother in the pew behind her.
Inhale, exhale.
From the moment she had seen him up close, Evie could tell that Steve was nervous. He was playing it cool, though, but she knew him better than that. On the outside, she was calm looking, but on the inside, there was a fraction of her that was almost as anxious as Steve was. It seemed almost comical in a sense that nothing had ever stirred either one of them as much as this particular moment had. And then it finally hit Evie all at once. Like earlier, all of her emotions came to the surface, and the weight she had been feeling rested on her shoulders. It wasn't a bad feeling, though, but it was enough to move her, enough to make her take a deep breath in, before slowly releasing it.
The pastor had been reading verses from the Bible for a few minutes, and Evie gave Steve's hand a light squeeze, one which he immediately returned. Beside her, Beth was fighting tears, and beside Steve, Soda was grinning, although there was a very slight glassy look to his own dancing brown eyes, one that was hardly noticeable. She glanced up once at Steve, his eyes shifting to meet hers as he offered her a rare smile. Her heart lightened inside of her chest, the weight removing itself from her shoulders—this is what she wanted, what she had always wanted.
A moment later, Evie and Steve were asked to read their vows.
Steve cleared his throat, turning and taking Evie's hands in his own. They were holding hers in a very delicate manner, but the expression on his face was sincere. He had gone over the words in his head, but nothing ever sounded right to him—nothing . . . until that moment. He looked at Evie right then, taking note to the fact that she was staring back at him with silent affirmation. She loved him as much as he loved her, wanted and needed to be with him as much as he did her. In his heart, he had always known that she was the one—there would never be another Evie for him.
"Evelyn Lisa Martin," he began as he took a breath, "I've loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you. You've become my best friend, my partner, my one true love. I promise to keep loving you, to adore you, and respect you for the rest of my life. Today, I pledge to you my heart, my soul, and all of me; until death do us part."
Evie couldn't help the tears welling up in her eyes as she spoke. "Steven Randle, I love you with every piece of my being. I've loved you from the day that we met, and I've never stopped loving you. I promise to be your best friend, to respect and support you, and to cherish you always for the rest of our lives; until death do us part."
Neither Steve or Evie were able to truly focus on the next part, even though that they had heard everything and followed through with the rest of their vows. In only a few seconds, after their official "I do's", Steve and Evie were officially man and wife. The entire moment was surreal, but when Steve lifted Evie's veil, tossing it over her head and pressing his lips to hers, the entire world seemed to stop around them, the newlyweds lost in their moment of bliss.
That is . . . until Soda and Two-Bit started clapping and whistling, which simply made everyone else follow along suit. Steve was chuckling lightly as he wiped away the tears that had escaped Evie's eyes, but for once, she didn't care that her makeup was most likely smeared. She smiled as she saw her mother snap a picture, her own makeup smeared below her eyes as lines of mascara trailed down her cheeks.
"I love you, Evie," Steve said to her, his voice quiet below the cheers.
"I love you, too, Steve," she replied, leaning in to kiss him again.
It was a small reception, nothing too elaborate or over-the-top. Ella sat at one of the tables in the back, slightly swaying to some of the music that was playing while she sipped at her beverage. Everyone around her looked happy, and she had to admit that this was probably the happiest she had felt in a long time. The atmosphere was light and breezy, and she was surrounded by her closest friends, who were either talking, eating, dancing, or . . .
Her eyes darted around the room, until she found the person on her mind.
Dallas stood off to the side, casually smoking a cigarette. He didn't look happy, but he didn't seem like he didn't want to be there, either. He had spoken to a few people, made his way around with a few of them, but he didn't appear like he wanted to stay much longer. Ella knew him well enough to decipher his moods by his body language. She figured that he probably wasn't going to stay for the entire time, and there was something about that thought that . . . felt off to her. She wasn't sure why—Dallas always did what he wanted, no questions asked, and it wasn't like he needed permission or anything. No, he simply did as he pleased, and he didn't care if it was right or wrong, as long as it was right with him.
"Hey."
She looked up at Ponyboy, her thoughts disappearing as she came back to reality. "Hey."
He gave her curious expression. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she answered, and gave him a smile for reassurance. "I'm fine."
His gaze followed hers to where Dallas was still standing, and a frown crossed his lips. "You wanna dance?" he questioned next, offering her his hand. "Lorraine needs a break."
Ella laughed lightly as she took his hand, allowing him to lead her out to the center of the room where others were dancing and laughing together. She and Ponyboy danced to a few songs together, and it wasn't much longer after that when she saw Dallas take his leave. Something inside of her wanted to yell out to him and tell him to stay, or beg him not to go just then.
Only she remained quiet, and something inside of her sank as she watched him go.
Take my hand
Take my whole life, too
For I can't help falling in love with you
I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!
Thank you for reading! :3
