This is the only disclaimer for this story and it applies to all the chapters, so listen up!
Disclaimer: Okay, here's another Outsider's fic by me. I'm just writing this one for the fun of it. I own no one unless I tell you that I do. In this case, I don't own the Curtis guys, Johnny Cade, Two-Bit (Keith) Mathews, his mother (even though I made up a name for her on my own), Dally Winston, Steve Randall, or anyone else from S. E. Hinton's book "The Outsiders". That also includes Tim and Curly Shepard and the while idea of Greasers and Socs. I'm just playing with them for now. I do own, however, Colleen Carson. She is property of my mind and my mind alone. I own her friends, her father and her mother, and I own Solo. A friend of mine made up Missy Winston, so kudos to her. Okay, that's all I have to say for now, so we can get on with the story! Here we go!
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Chapter 1-Deal With it
As the moving truck pulled away, the reality of the situation finally hit me. I had been taken away from my home, my friends, my family, my... everything! All to live in stupid Tulsa, Oklahoma. Why was that? Because I had gotten into some trouble and it was either move away from mu home or go to jail. In all honesty, I would have preferred jail. At least I would have been near my friends. But my father had insisted that I move away. Why did life have to suck so bad?
I knew no one here, albeit my cousin Keith Mathews and his mother. But I hadn't seen them since I was four. I was now age fifteen. Big time span there.
I looked over my belongings and sighed. I might as well be all alone.
"Colleen," someone called from the house in front of me.
I looked up to see my aunt, Vivian Mathews, coming down the steps of the front porch, holding her arms out.
"Auntie Viv," I cried, running to my aunt.
"Little Ce-ce," Vivian sighed, enveloping me into a warm, motherly hug. Then Vivian held me out at arm's length and looked me over. "Well, you're not so little anymore, are you?"
"No, I don't guess so," I laughed through my tears of joy.
Auntie Vivian was a beautiful woman. At 38, she still looked young; atleast 24. She had rust-brown hair and laughing grey eyes. The loving energy that she radiated made her seem even younger.
"Come in, child, come in," Vivian said, easily leading me into the house.
I sat down on the sofa and looked around. It was a homey kind of house. A bit on the messy side, but it was home now. I would have to like it. I had no choice now. But where was Keith?
As if in response to my silent question, the door slammed open and in strolled three boys. The one in front had rust colored hair with long side burns of the same color, a stocky build, and laughing greay eyes. The second one was short with black hair, dark eyes, tanned skin, and a shy stance. The third boy had dark-golden hair and beautiful dark brown eyes that were extremly expressive. All three had their hair slicked back with hair grease. They all noticed me quite quickly.
"Mom, who's this," the one in front inquired, pointing at me.
"Look closely at her," Viv said, smiling secretivly.
So the boy did. Quite literally. He actually got right up in my face to stare at me. The other two boys laughed quitely.
"Keith," Vivian scolded lightly, trying to keep her laughter in check.
"What? You said look closely at her!"
More laughter. I was getting really annoyed. After three and a half hours in two cars and a plane, all I wanted to do was sleep. And having some imbecile hovering around my face wasn't helping matters much.
"I'm your cousin Colleen Carson," I said atlast. "Remember?"
"Ce-ce," Keith said. "Long time, no see!"
Quickly, Keith swept me up into a big bear hug. I didn't know what to do. This was *really* unexpected. I patted his back gently while he crushed my ribs.
"Keith, you're crushing the life out of her," Aunt Viv said.
"Sorry, Ce-ce," Keith said, releasing me.
"It's all right," I said, settling myself back down on the sofa.
"What are we," asked the boy with golden-brown hair,"non-exsistant or what?"
"Guys, this is my cousin Colleen," Keith said.
"Yeah, we've gathered that," said the same boy.
"Colleen, these are two friends of mine," Keith continued, choosing to ignore the boy's comment. "This is Sodapop Curtis--"
"Top 'o the mornin to ya, pretty lassie," he said in an attempted Irish accent, bowing to me.
"What," I asked, cocking my head to one side. That's a habit I have. Drives some of my friends insane. Oh well, my habits.
"Well, you're Irish, aren't you?"
"What gave you that idea," I snorted. Another of my habits.
"Your accent and your name."
"Way to go, Sherlock. You've sloved the mystery..."
"--and this is Johnny Cade," Keith said, concluding his introduction. "Also known as 'Johnnycake', 'Johnnykid', or any other name the gang can think up for him."
Johnny waved slightly and mumbled a shy "hello". I smiled at him kindly. I liked this guy right from the moment he strode in the door. He seemed nicer than the other people I'd seen around this neighborhood. He reminded me of one of my friends back home in North Carolina. Hopefully, we would be good friends given time.
"Uh, Two-Bit," Soda asked.
"You rang?"
"Not to be rude or anything, but we need to go. We told the gang that we'd be right back."
"Ah, all right," Two-Bit said, cocking one eyebrow comically when I rolled my eyes. "Let me grab the sugar and then we'll go."
Two-Bit strolled into the kitchen and everyone could hear the sounds of things being shuffled around.
"Keith," Auntie Viv called, looing at me carefully.
"Mother," Two-Bit called back in the sane tone.
"Why don't you take Colleen with you, honey? It would be a good chance for her to meet some people."
"Wanna come with, Ce-ce," Two-Bit asked, sticking his head around the corner.
"Sure," I said on a sigh. I was practically dead on my feet and I felt like agreeing to anything so long as I could get some sleep.
"Come on, then," Two-Bit said cheerfully, coming into the living room and hauling me to my feet.
He grabbed my hand and dragged my out of the house and down the street. We walked for awhile and then came to another, normal, house. A Ford was parked in the driveway. I walked to the front door and I took this time to study the outside of the house. Keith went back with his friends who had lagged behind.
It was fairly nice. Kinda homey in a small sort of way. It was two-stories and it needed to be re-painted, like almost every other house in this neighborhood. But before I could make anymore judgements about this humble abode, Two-Bit came back onto the front porch with the other two boys, stuck his head in the door, yelled "hey", and walked right into the home without further notice. I was drug in behind him.
I looked around the living room that I was now in. It was extremly clean and orderly. It was a big change from the outside apperance.
"Hey guys," Two-Bit called happily.
There were three guys lounging around in the living room. They looked similar to Soda and Johnny and Two-Bit. What kind of name is "Two-Bit" anyway? Okay, back on topic. I'd have to ask about Keith's nickname later.
But, like I said before, they were just three normal looking guys. Sorry about that, sometimes I can kinda get off topic when I'm talking about something. Well, two of them looked normal. The third was huge. He was tall and muscular with short, neat hair. When he turned his face towards me from the newspaper he was reading, my heart practically stopped. His pale greenish grey eyes were like two pieces of ice. He was handsome... It was like the kind of handsome that you see on the big silver screen. Just like Soda. They must have been brothers or something.
The two others were handsome also. The smaller one was younger than me, and he had the cuteness that the younger generations always possess. The other had the ordinary good looks that you can picture walking down the street.
"Who's the pretty little lady," asked the one with the hair slicked back into complicated-looking curls. That was the one with the everyday charms.
"This is my cousin," Keith said. "Her name is Colleen. Colleen, this is Steve Randall. The dude with the paper is Darrell Curtis and the smaller one is Ponyboy Curtis."
"I'm not little," Ponyboy said.
"Compaired to Darry you are," Soda said, scrubbing Ponyboy's head gently.
"Compaired to Darry, everyone is," Steve said.
"Your name is really Ponyboy," I asked, looking at him skeptically. The others had nicknames, or so it seemed, so why shouldn't he have one too?
"Uh, yeah, it is," he said, looking a bit uncomfortable.
"Oh, well, that's a very beautiful and charming name," I said, smiling my best smile at him.
"Thank you," he whispered, blushing red and his ears were starting to turn pink. People had always said that I had that kind of effect on men sometimes. But what do they know, anyhow?
"Where's Dallas at," Keith asked, looking around.
"Someone called here and he had to go pick someone up or something," Steve said, shrugging nonchantly.
"He's due back any minute now," Darry said, turning the page of the newspaper and starting to read it once more.
Just as he finished his statement, the door flung wide open and in strolled a hateful looking guy followed closely by an even angrier-looking girl. The guy had whitish blond hair and ice-blue eyes. He had an elfish face and you could just feel the anger rolling off of him.
The girl was about my height and I assumed she was my age also. She had dirty blond hair that was layered just like mine and fell to her shoulders. Her greyish-blue eyes burned with an intense anger that I had only seen once before on one other person. She was beautiful. It was that kind of dangerous beautiful that men just can't leave alone. That was how Solo described it, atleast.
"What is it, 'bring girl's to the house' day," Steve asked, grinning rougishly.
"What are you gabbing about now, Randall," growled the guy who had just walked in. He hadn't seen me yet.
"Take a look behind you, Winston," Keith said.
The guy turned around and came face to face with me. My heart skipped several beats and my breathing grew shallow. He was just so...I don't even know if there are words to describe what I felt right then. He had that rugged, bad boy kind of thing about him that never fails to attract girls like moths to a flame.
"Well, well, what have we here," he asked slyly, starting to walk around me in slow circles. "Mmm, where did she come from?"
"She's my cousin," Keith said, winking at me reassuringly.
"Does she have a name," the guy asked, staring at me. "But then again, maybe angels don't have names."
I couldn't help myself, I had to laugh at that. If there's one thing that I'm not, it would be an angel. I'm anything but that.
"I'm no angel," I said, my short bout of laughter coming to a halt, "and I do have a name. But that's nothing you need to worry about."
"Ooh, a fiesty one," he said, sliding his arm around my waist. "I like 'em fiery. And that accent is just so sexy. What say we go somewhere more private?"
"What say you get your greasy hands off of me before I slit your throat," I said cheerfully.
He looked at me for a minute and then laughed. I would've liked to have known what was so funny. I've pulled a knife on plenty of people before. I do know how to use one if I would ever find myself in need.
"All right, baby," he said, taking his arm off of me. "Maybe some other time when there aren't so many people around."
"So, who's your friend," Keith asked, trying to change the subject. Maybe he was smarter than he looked and let on. Who knows.
"This is my cousin," the guy said, his tone going angry again. "Her name is Missy Winston."
"My name is Duckie," the girl said, glaring at her cousin. "No one calls me 'Missy' anymore."
"How old are you," Keith asked, looking her up and down carefully.
"I just turned fifteen yesterday," she said, crossing her arms.
"Ce-ce, how old are you," asked my rambuncous cousin.
"I'm fifteen, Keith Mathews," I said, scoffing. "If you didn't know that then you need to think about who you're calling family."
"I know everything about you," Keith said confidently.
"Really," I asked. That was highly unlikely. "Tell me everything you think you know."
"Your middle name is Rianna, your birthday is October 23, your parents are divorced, you live with your father, your mother lives in Paris," Keith said. "You visit her sometimes. You came here because...your parents are into another custody battle?"
"Wrong, Mr. Man," I said. "I came here because it was either this or get thrown in jail. I would have preffered jail to here because at least in the slammer, I would have been able to see my friends. Speaking of friends, I'm waiting for a call from a few of them. Can I use your phone, please, Darrell?"
"Knock yourself out, Colleen," he said, pointing towards it.
"Thank you," I said, walking over and sitting on the now abandoned sofa. I picked up the phone and dialed Aunt Vivian's number.
"Hello," said her cheerful voice on the other line. "Mathews residence, Vivian speaking, with whom do you wish to speak?"
"Auntie Viv," I said into the phone, "it's Colleen. I just wanted to know if anyone called for me."
"Why, yes, dear," she said. "A guy called, said his named was Solo."
"Solo called," I asked, hope rising in my heart.
"Yes, dear," she said. "And a girl named Amara Adams called."
"Thank you, Auntie Viv," I said.
"You're welcome, honey," she said. I could hear the smile in her voice and if I closed my eyes, I bet I could have seen it. "Good-bye."
"Good-bye," I said, hanging up the phone. I sighed happily. Solo had called for me.
"Darrell," I called, looking at him.
"Yes," he sighed, putting the paper down in his lap.
"Sorry to keep interrupting you and everything, but I wanted to know if it would be possible for me to make a long-distance phone call if I make it super quick and agree to pay for it?"
"Sure," he said, smiling at me kindly.
"Thank you," I yelled happily.
Quickly, I picked up the phone and dialed a phone number that was as familiar to me as my dad or mother's phone numbers. I waited in anticipation as the phone rang. And rang. And rang. And rang. And rang some more. Finally, on the seventh ring, as I was about to hang up with a heavy heart, somone answered.
"City morge, you stab 'em, we slab 'em," a masculine voice on the other line said.
"Oh, Solo," I sighed. "It's fablous to hear your voice!"
"Colleen," the man said, his tone going from the nasally-but-gravely tone to the deep, sexy voice that I knew and loved. "God, I can't belive it's really you."
"Me either," I said, not bothering to fight back the tears that spilled over my eye lids, slid down my cheeks, and tasted salty on my lips. "Oh, I can't believe that I'm talking to you again. I miss you so much! I just want to come home."
"I know, darling, I know," he said. The only thing I wanted was to be lying by his side again, wrapped in his warm embrace.
"Will you come to see me," I asked hopefully. My heart was on my sleeve. He could crush it if he wanted to and he knew full well about that.
"I'll see what I can do, sweetness," he said. "I miss you more than anything. I miss your beautiful eyes and your love that lights up my world."
"Becoming a poet now, are we, Solo," I asked, laughing slightly, coughing on a sob.
"Having you in my life makes me that way, babycakes," he said. If I closed my eyes, I could see his face, coming slowly towards me, his lips greatfully excepting my kiss. Boy, was I glad that Keith wasn't a mind-reader.
"I know what you mean," I said, smiling at all of my memories with Solo. My voice dropped below a whisper. "Come to see me soon, Solo. I'm lonely without you by my side. The days just aren't the same without you and the nights are even worse."
"So, now who's the poet, my dear," he asked, laughing gently.
"Don't laugh," I scolded lightly. "I'm not being funny. It's the truth."
"I know, sunshine, I know."
"I have to go, Solo," I said, my heart sinking once again. "I'm running up someone's phone bill."
"Did you beak into someone's house just to talk to me, love?"
"No, I didn't," I said. In fact, the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. Maybe next time, I would do that. "I'm over at my cousin's friend's house. But, I seriously have to go now, okay?"
"All right, dearest," he said, heaving a depressed sigh. "Brownish- green female sheep."
"Brownish-green female sheep," I responded, blowing a kiss into the phone. Solo did the same and we hung up together.
I sighed contentedly. Even the sound of his voice was honey for my soul. I felt like hugging myself, but that would be stupid. Instead, I slumped down on the sofa and closed my eyes. I couldn't stand to even be apart from him for two minutes! How was I going to stand living miles away from him? Why does life have to be this way?
"Who were you talking to," Keith asked, sitting down beside me.
"Solo," I said. Even saying his name made my insides feel warm and tingly.
"Who's this guy?"
"The man of my dreams," I sighed, hugging myself, smiling from ear to ear. "We are going to get married when I'm sixteen."
Wait a minute here," he said, turning to look at me. "So you're sleeping with this guy?"
"Oh, don't even start giving me this talk," I said exasperatdly. "I know all of the risks and everything.
"No, I don't think you do," he said, grabbing my arms and turning me towards him. "I think we do need to have this talk."
"No, we don't," I protested, jerking away from him. "I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself."
"Does your father know about this?"
"Yeah, he does," I said. "He's making us get married, but not like we're objecting. It's my life to do with it what I want. No one can tell me what to do."
"Well, you don't live in North Carolina anymore," he said, going really serious. God, he was worse than my father. "You can't run around, sleeping with guys here! This is your new life! Deal with it."
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Well, that's it for chapter one! Whaddya think? I want to hear from every one of you! Do you hear me? Okay, thank you! You people are so wonderful for reading my stories! Really, you are. Later Days, Loyal Readers! REVIEW!
Disclaimer: Okay, here's another Outsider's fic by me. I'm just writing this one for the fun of it. I own no one unless I tell you that I do. In this case, I don't own the Curtis guys, Johnny Cade, Two-Bit (Keith) Mathews, his mother (even though I made up a name for her on my own), Dally Winston, Steve Randall, or anyone else from S. E. Hinton's book "The Outsiders". That also includes Tim and Curly Shepard and the while idea of Greasers and Socs. I'm just playing with them for now. I do own, however, Colleen Carson. She is property of my mind and my mind alone. I own her friends, her father and her mother, and I own Solo. A friend of mine made up Missy Winston, so kudos to her. Okay, that's all I have to say for now, so we can get on with the story! Here we go!
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Chapter 1-Deal With it
As the moving truck pulled away, the reality of the situation finally hit me. I had been taken away from my home, my friends, my family, my... everything! All to live in stupid Tulsa, Oklahoma. Why was that? Because I had gotten into some trouble and it was either move away from mu home or go to jail. In all honesty, I would have preferred jail. At least I would have been near my friends. But my father had insisted that I move away. Why did life have to suck so bad?
I knew no one here, albeit my cousin Keith Mathews and his mother. But I hadn't seen them since I was four. I was now age fifteen. Big time span there.
I looked over my belongings and sighed. I might as well be all alone.
"Colleen," someone called from the house in front of me.
I looked up to see my aunt, Vivian Mathews, coming down the steps of the front porch, holding her arms out.
"Auntie Viv," I cried, running to my aunt.
"Little Ce-ce," Vivian sighed, enveloping me into a warm, motherly hug. Then Vivian held me out at arm's length and looked me over. "Well, you're not so little anymore, are you?"
"No, I don't guess so," I laughed through my tears of joy.
Auntie Vivian was a beautiful woman. At 38, she still looked young; atleast 24. She had rust-brown hair and laughing grey eyes. The loving energy that she radiated made her seem even younger.
"Come in, child, come in," Vivian said, easily leading me into the house.
I sat down on the sofa and looked around. It was a homey kind of house. A bit on the messy side, but it was home now. I would have to like it. I had no choice now. But where was Keith?
As if in response to my silent question, the door slammed open and in strolled three boys. The one in front had rust colored hair with long side burns of the same color, a stocky build, and laughing greay eyes. The second one was short with black hair, dark eyes, tanned skin, and a shy stance. The third boy had dark-golden hair and beautiful dark brown eyes that were extremly expressive. All three had their hair slicked back with hair grease. They all noticed me quite quickly.
"Mom, who's this," the one in front inquired, pointing at me.
"Look closely at her," Viv said, smiling secretivly.
So the boy did. Quite literally. He actually got right up in my face to stare at me. The other two boys laughed quitely.
"Keith," Vivian scolded lightly, trying to keep her laughter in check.
"What? You said look closely at her!"
More laughter. I was getting really annoyed. After three and a half hours in two cars and a plane, all I wanted to do was sleep. And having some imbecile hovering around my face wasn't helping matters much.
"I'm your cousin Colleen Carson," I said atlast. "Remember?"
"Ce-ce," Keith said. "Long time, no see!"
Quickly, Keith swept me up into a big bear hug. I didn't know what to do. This was *really* unexpected. I patted his back gently while he crushed my ribs.
"Keith, you're crushing the life out of her," Aunt Viv said.
"Sorry, Ce-ce," Keith said, releasing me.
"It's all right," I said, settling myself back down on the sofa.
"What are we," asked the boy with golden-brown hair,"non-exsistant or what?"
"Guys, this is my cousin Colleen," Keith said.
"Yeah, we've gathered that," said the same boy.
"Colleen, these are two friends of mine," Keith continued, choosing to ignore the boy's comment. "This is Sodapop Curtis--"
"Top 'o the mornin to ya, pretty lassie," he said in an attempted Irish accent, bowing to me.
"What," I asked, cocking my head to one side. That's a habit I have. Drives some of my friends insane. Oh well, my habits.
"Well, you're Irish, aren't you?"
"What gave you that idea," I snorted. Another of my habits.
"Your accent and your name."
"Way to go, Sherlock. You've sloved the mystery..."
"--and this is Johnny Cade," Keith said, concluding his introduction. "Also known as 'Johnnycake', 'Johnnykid', or any other name the gang can think up for him."
Johnny waved slightly and mumbled a shy "hello". I smiled at him kindly. I liked this guy right from the moment he strode in the door. He seemed nicer than the other people I'd seen around this neighborhood. He reminded me of one of my friends back home in North Carolina. Hopefully, we would be good friends given time.
"Uh, Two-Bit," Soda asked.
"You rang?"
"Not to be rude or anything, but we need to go. We told the gang that we'd be right back."
"Ah, all right," Two-Bit said, cocking one eyebrow comically when I rolled my eyes. "Let me grab the sugar and then we'll go."
Two-Bit strolled into the kitchen and everyone could hear the sounds of things being shuffled around.
"Keith," Auntie Viv called, looing at me carefully.
"Mother," Two-Bit called back in the sane tone.
"Why don't you take Colleen with you, honey? It would be a good chance for her to meet some people."
"Wanna come with, Ce-ce," Two-Bit asked, sticking his head around the corner.
"Sure," I said on a sigh. I was practically dead on my feet and I felt like agreeing to anything so long as I could get some sleep.
"Come on, then," Two-Bit said cheerfully, coming into the living room and hauling me to my feet.
He grabbed my hand and dragged my out of the house and down the street. We walked for awhile and then came to another, normal, house. A Ford was parked in the driveway. I walked to the front door and I took this time to study the outside of the house. Keith went back with his friends who had lagged behind.
It was fairly nice. Kinda homey in a small sort of way. It was two-stories and it needed to be re-painted, like almost every other house in this neighborhood. But before I could make anymore judgements about this humble abode, Two-Bit came back onto the front porch with the other two boys, stuck his head in the door, yelled "hey", and walked right into the home without further notice. I was drug in behind him.
I looked around the living room that I was now in. It was extremly clean and orderly. It was a big change from the outside apperance.
"Hey guys," Two-Bit called happily.
There were three guys lounging around in the living room. They looked similar to Soda and Johnny and Two-Bit. What kind of name is "Two-Bit" anyway? Okay, back on topic. I'd have to ask about Keith's nickname later.
But, like I said before, they were just three normal looking guys. Sorry about that, sometimes I can kinda get off topic when I'm talking about something. Well, two of them looked normal. The third was huge. He was tall and muscular with short, neat hair. When he turned his face towards me from the newspaper he was reading, my heart practically stopped. His pale greenish grey eyes were like two pieces of ice. He was handsome... It was like the kind of handsome that you see on the big silver screen. Just like Soda. They must have been brothers or something.
The two others were handsome also. The smaller one was younger than me, and he had the cuteness that the younger generations always possess. The other had the ordinary good looks that you can picture walking down the street.
"Who's the pretty little lady," asked the one with the hair slicked back into complicated-looking curls. That was the one with the everyday charms.
"This is my cousin," Keith said. "Her name is Colleen. Colleen, this is Steve Randall. The dude with the paper is Darrell Curtis and the smaller one is Ponyboy Curtis."
"I'm not little," Ponyboy said.
"Compaired to Darry you are," Soda said, scrubbing Ponyboy's head gently.
"Compaired to Darry, everyone is," Steve said.
"Your name is really Ponyboy," I asked, looking at him skeptically. The others had nicknames, or so it seemed, so why shouldn't he have one too?
"Uh, yeah, it is," he said, looking a bit uncomfortable.
"Oh, well, that's a very beautiful and charming name," I said, smiling my best smile at him.
"Thank you," he whispered, blushing red and his ears were starting to turn pink. People had always said that I had that kind of effect on men sometimes. But what do they know, anyhow?
"Where's Dallas at," Keith asked, looking around.
"Someone called here and he had to go pick someone up or something," Steve said, shrugging nonchantly.
"He's due back any minute now," Darry said, turning the page of the newspaper and starting to read it once more.
Just as he finished his statement, the door flung wide open and in strolled a hateful looking guy followed closely by an even angrier-looking girl. The guy had whitish blond hair and ice-blue eyes. He had an elfish face and you could just feel the anger rolling off of him.
The girl was about my height and I assumed she was my age also. She had dirty blond hair that was layered just like mine and fell to her shoulders. Her greyish-blue eyes burned with an intense anger that I had only seen once before on one other person. She was beautiful. It was that kind of dangerous beautiful that men just can't leave alone. That was how Solo described it, atleast.
"What is it, 'bring girl's to the house' day," Steve asked, grinning rougishly.
"What are you gabbing about now, Randall," growled the guy who had just walked in. He hadn't seen me yet.
"Take a look behind you, Winston," Keith said.
The guy turned around and came face to face with me. My heart skipped several beats and my breathing grew shallow. He was just so...I don't even know if there are words to describe what I felt right then. He had that rugged, bad boy kind of thing about him that never fails to attract girls like moths to a flame.
"Well, well, what have we here," he asked slyly, starting to walk around me in slow circles. "Mmm, where did she come from?"
"She's my cousin," Keith said, winking at me reassuringly.
"Does she have a name," the guy asked, staring at me. "But then again, maybe angels don't have names."
I couldn't help myself, I had to laugh at that. If there's one thing that I'm not, it would be an angel. I'm anything but that.
"I'm no angel," I said, my short bout of laughter coming to a halt, "and I do have a name. But that's nothing you need to worry about."
"Ooh, a fiesty one," he said, sliding his arm around my waist. "I like 'em fiery. And that accent is just so sexy. What say we go somewhere more private?"
"What say you get your greasy hands off of me before I slit your throat," I said cheerfully.
He looked at me for a minute and then laughed. I would've liked to have known what was so funny. I've pulled a knife on plenty of people before. I do know how to use one if I would ever find myself in need.
"All right, baby," he said, taking his arm off of me. "Maybe some other time when there aren't so many people around."
"So, who's your friend," Keith asked, trying to change the subject. Maybe he was smarter than he looked and let on. Who knows.
"This is my cousin," the guy said, his tone going angry again. "Her name is Missy Winston."
"My name is Duckie," the girl said, glaring at her cousin. "No one calls me 'Missy' anymore."
"How old are you," Keith asked, looking her up and down carefully.
"I just turned fifteen yesterday," she said, crossing her arms.
"Ce-ce, how old are you," asked my rambuncous cousin.
"I'm fifteen, Keith Mathews," I said, scoffing. "If you didn't know that then you need to think about who you're calling family."
"I know everything about you," Keith said confidently.
"Really," I asked. That was highly unlikely. "Tell me everything you think you know."
"Your middle name is Rianna, your birthday is October 23, your parents are divorced, you live with your father, your mother lives in Paris," Keith said. "You visit her sometimes. You came here because...your parents are into another custody battle?"
"Wrong, Mr. Man," I said. "I came here because it was either this or get thrown in jail. I would have preffered jail to here because at least in the slammer, I would have been able to see my friends. Speaking of friends, I'm waiting for a call from a few of them. Can I use your phone, please, Darrell?"
"Knock yourself out, Colleen," he said, pointing towards it.
"Thank you," I said, walking over and sitting on the now abandoned sofa. I picked up the phone and dialed Aunt Vivian's number.
"Hello," said her cheerful voice on the other line. "Mathews residence, Vivian speaking, with whom do you wish to speak?"
"Auntie Viv," I said into the phone, "it's Colleen. I just wanted to know if anyone called for me."
"Why, yes, dear," she said. "A guy called, said his named was Solo."
"Solo called," I asked, hope rising in my heart.
"Yes, dear," she said. "And a girl named Amara Adams called."
"Thank you, Auntie Viv," I said.
"You're welcome, honey," she said. I could hear the smile in her voice and if I closed my eyes, I bet I could have seen it. "Good-bye."
"Good-bye," I said, hanging up the phone. I sighed happily. Solo had called for me.
"Darrell," I called, looking at him.
"Yes," he sighed, putting the paper down in his lap.
"Sorry to keep interrupting you and everything, but I wanted to know if it would be possible for me to make a long-distance phone call if I make it super quick and agree to pay for it?"
"Sure," he said, smiling at me kindly.
"Thank you," I yelled happily.
Quickly, I picked up the phone and dialed a phone number that was as familiar to me as my dad or mother's phone numbers. I waited in anticipation as the phone rang. And rang. And rang. And rang. And rang some more. Finally, on the seventh ring, as I was about to hang up with a heavy heart, somone answered.
"City morge, you stab 'em, we slab 'em," a masculine voice on the other line said.
"Oh, Solo," I sighed. "It's fablous to hear your voice!"
"Colleen," the man said, his tone going from the nasally-but-gravely tone to the deep, sexy voice that I knew and loved. "God, I can't belive it's really you."
"Me either," I said, not bothering to fight back the tears that spilled over my eye lids, slid down my cheeks, and tasted salty on my lips. "Oh, I can't believe that I'm talking to you again. I miss you so much! I just want to come home."
"I know, darling, I know," he said. The only thing I wanted was to be lying by his side again, wrapped in his warm embrace.
"Will you come to see me," I asked hopefully. My heart was on my sleeve. He could crush it if he wanted to and he knew full well about that.
"I'll see what I can do, sweetness," he said. "I miss you more than anything. I miss your beautiful eyes and your love that lights up my world."
"Becoming a poet now, are we, Solo," I asked, laughing slightly, coughing on a sob.
"Having you in my life makes me that way, babycakes," he said. If I closed my eyes, I could see his face, coming slowly towards me, his lips greatfully excepting my kiss. Boy, was I glad that Keith wasn't a mind-reader.
"I know what you mean," I said, smiling at all of my memories with Solo. My voice dropped below a whisper. "Come to see me soon, Solo. I'm lonely without you by my side. The days just aren't the same without you and the nights are even worse."
"So, now who's the poet, my dear," he asked, laughing gently.
"Don't laugh," I scolded lightly. "I'm not being funny. It's the truth."
"I know, sunshine, I know."
"I have to go, Solo," I said, my heart sinking once again. "I'm running up someone's phone bill."
"Did you beak into someone's house just to talk to me, love?"
"No, I didn't," I said. In fact, the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. Maybe next time, I would do that. "I'm over at my cousin's friend's house. But, I seriously have to go now, okay?"
"All right, dearest," he said, heaving a depressed sigh. "Brownish- green female sheep."
"Brownish-green female sheep," I responded, blowing a kiss into the phone. Solo did the same and we hung up together.
I sighed contentedly. Even the sound of his voice was honey for my soul. I felt like hugging myself, but that would be stupid. Instead, I slumped down on the sofa and closed my eyes. I couldn't stand to even be apart from him for two minutes! How was I going to stand living miles away from him? Why does life have to be this way?
"Who were you talking to," Keith asked, sitting down beside me.
"Solo," I said. Even saying his name made my insides feel warm and tingly.
"Who's this guy?"
"The man of my dreams," I sighed, hugging myself, smiling from ear to ear. "We are going to get married when I'm sixteen."
Wait a minute here," he said, turning to look at me. "So you're sleeping with this guy?"
"Oh, don't even start giving me this talk," I said exasperatdly. "I know all of the risks and everything.
"No, I don't think you do," he said, grabbing my arms and turning me towards him. "I think we do need to have this talk."
"No, we don't," I protested, jerking away from him. "I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself."
"Does your father know about this?"
"Yeah, he does," I said. "He's making us get married, but not like we're objecting. It's my life to do with it what I want. No one can tell me what to do."
"Well, you don't live in North Carolina anymore," he said, going really serious. God, he was worse than my father. "You can't run around, sleeping with guys here! This is your new life! Deal with it."
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Well, that's it for chapter one! Whaddya think? I want to hear from every one of you! Do you hear me? Okay, thank you! You people are so wonderful for reading my stories! Really, you are. Later Days, Loyal Readers! REVIEW!