DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of Lord of the Rings, or The Outsiders!!!!
Brilliant Minds, Yep, Brilliant Minds.
My true inspiration has been ElfPilot, She has seen me through these last few stories, even though I knew they sucked!! Heh, Thanks for your support!!! Maybe we might end up writing a story together sometime!
~*~*~=Stevie's P.O.V=~*~*~
I glared, tossing my copy of The Outsiders against the wall. Why did they have to die? PonyBoy and Johnny were my favorite characters after all, and PonyBoy was left to grieve over his friends' deaths. I sighed, and picked up the slightly mangled book, Boy wouldn't I like to meet them.
I wasn't a Soc, nor a Greaser, just someone in the middle, I could get along with both probably, I was neutral. But Why? A nagging voice in the back of my mind asked? Why aren't you one or the other? I cursed under my breath, pushing those thoughts away. I needed to stay in the middle, besides, in real life, I did have more issues in life than books, and who died in them.
I laughed slightly, as I labeled people at my school that day. I was a book worm, and I was one of those who would classify people just for kicks. Greaser, Soc, Greaser, Soc. I pointed several out, until a whiny voice behind my head commanded me to stop.
"Hello Steeeeevieeeee." The blonde haired boy behind me whined, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Who did he think he was!??! I hit him flat in the jaw, making him grimace in pain. "I'm Fine, But what about you?" I kicked at the groping figure, and trotted to my math class laughing.
People knew better than to mess with me, I had a temper problem that wasn't easy to solve, and reading books, and hanging around with the "Tough crowd", gave me some kind of weird notion, that I could take on the world. And I tried to. I had a record with the police too, they laughed at me when I showed up, my auburn hair held back in a clip or pony tail.
"Welcome Back Steve." I felt the sudden impulse to spit. And I did, which made them laugh harder. I was treated like the Queen I was, and was worshipped by many of the other gangs, just because of who I was. Yet, I don't care what they say, nor do I care what they do. I was notorious for fights, and I was still looking for trouble.
I ran into some guy, with slicked down blonde hair, which made me stop to ask him his name. Of course, I was interested. He had gray eyes, and blonde hair, and several scars, which also gave me the notion he was a greaser.
I looked him in the eyes, mine a flicker of curiousity shining through.
"What's your name, Kid?" I tried to sound tougher than normal, trying to force him to answer. But I got a bleak smile, "What's yours?"
I had been challenged. There was no doubt in my mind. I raised a fist, and swung, his hand catching mine. I laughed haughtily, bringing my knee up into his you-know-where.
He yelped softly, and looked into my eyes still. "The name is PonyBoy, PonyBoy Curtis." He repeated it as though he were trying to sound like James Bond or something. Plenty of Kids went by this name now, And I wasn't falling for this trick.
"Mine's Stevie." I held out my hand to shake, but he nodded instead, kneading his hand.
We walked around for awhile, talking about books and movies for some reason. I think I started the conversation. But he was listening, Boy was he listening.
He answered everyone of my stupid questions, as I had said it was for a Public Poll.
He slightly laughed, asking me why I wanted his opinion. And I told him. I split when some hard-core looking guy walked up to "PonyBoy", asking him for a cigarette.
This was another sign, I thought to myself. PonyBoy ALWAYS had cigarettes, he was addicted to them, even though he shouldn't have them. I laughed as he took out a package, and handed it to him. We were walking again, except NOW, He was asking ME the questions.
My past wasn't exactly pretty, and I could tell that he knew that too. I mean, where does a girl like me belong? No where. So, I answered his questions carefully, or didn't answer some at all.
When we rounded a turn into an alley, I saw a group standing around. One looked about the same age as PonyBoy, so I took him as Johnny. Maybe he didn't die, Maybe Hinton added this twist for kicks, Because she knew the book wouldn't get published if there wasn't some more excitement. I laughed, as one of the guys walked up to me, goofing off.
"Two-Bit," I thought out loud, and as I had suspected, it was. He gave me a funny wink, which made my stomach quiver. "Now Since you know my name, What's Yours?" He made a move to wrap an arm around my shoulders, until I brought a fist up.
"Touch me, and You'll die of pain." I brought up my foot, and went to ram him in the same place as I had gotten PonyBoy. But he jumped sideways a little, and I kicked his thigh.
He yelped too, but softer, and grinned. "Brought home a stubborn one, huh?" He asked, and I nearly died laughing. PonyBoy looked at me for a second, and then back at the rest of them. He knew I was like them, but I wasn't. He knew that he could use me as a spy for the greasers, and I would do it too. But he shook his head at Two-Bit. "Leave her alone."
So this was what the gang was like? I'm worse than them! I've gotten kicked out of my house, Who knows how many times, I have my own personal cell down at the police office, and I bet on the horses.
The only thing, is that I have something of value. It belongs to Soda, and I intended on giving it back. But I couldn't find him.
My true inspiration has been ElfPilot, She has seen me through these last few stories, even though I knew they sucked!! Heh, Thanks for your support!!! Maybe we might end up writing a story together sometime!
~*~*~=Stevie's P.O.V=~*~*~
I glared, tossing my copy of The Outsiders against the wall. Why did they have to die? PonyBoy and Johnny were my favorite characters after all, and PonyBoy was left to grieve over his friends' deaths. I sighed, and picked up the slightly mangled book, Boy wouldn't I like to meet them.
I wasn't a Soc, nor a Greaser, just someone in the middle, I could get along with both probably, I was neutral. But Why? A nagging voice in the back of my mind asked? Why aren't you one or the other? I cursed under my breath, pushing those thoughts away. I needed to stay in the middle, besides, in real life, I did have more issues in life than books, and who died in them.
I laughed slightly, as I labeled people at my school that day. I was a book worm, and I was one of those who would classify people just for kicks. Greaser, Soc, Greaser, Soc. I pointed several out, until a whiny voice behind my head commanded me to stop.
"Hello Steeeeevieeeee." The blonde haired boy behind me whined, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Who did he think he was!??! I hit him flat in the jaw, making him grimace in pain. "I'm Fine, But what about you?" I kicked at the groping figure, and trotted to my math class laughing.
People knew better than to mess with me, I had a temper problem that wasn't easy to solve, and reading books, and hanging around with the "Tough crowd", gave me some kind of weird notion, that I could take on the world. And I tried to. I had a record with the police too, they laughed at me when I showed up, my auburn hair held back in a clip or pony tail.
"Welcome Back Steve." I felt the sudden impulse to spit. And I did, which made them laugh harder. I was treated like the Queen I was, and was worshipped by many of the other gangs, just because of who I was. Yet, I don't care what they say, nor do I care what they do. I was notorious for fights, and I was still looking for trouble.
I ran into some guy, with slicked down blonde hair, which made me stop to ask him his name. Of course, I was interested. He had gray eyes, and blonde hair, and several scars, which also gave me the notion he was a greaser.
I looked him in the eyes, mine a flicker of curiousity shining through.
"What's your name, Kid?" I tried to sound tougher than normal, trying to force him to answer. But I got a bleak smile, "What's yours?"
I had been challenged. There was no doubt in my mind. I raised a fist, and swung, his hand catching mine. I laughed haughtily, bringing my knee up into his you-know-where.
He yelped softly, and looked into my eyes still. "The name is PonyBoy, PonyBoy Curtis." He repeated it as though he were trying to sound like James Bond or something. Plenty of Kids went by this name now, And I wasn't falling for this trick.
"Mine's Stevie." I held out my hand to shake, but he nodded instead, kneading his hand.
We walked around for awhile, talking about books and movies for some reason. I think I started the conversation. But he was listening, Boy was he listening.
He answered everyone of my stupid questions, as I had said it was for a Public Poll.
He slightly laughed, asking me why I wanted his opinion. And I told him. I split when some hard-core looking guy walked up to "PonyBoy", asking him for a cigarette.
This was another sign, I thought to myself. PonyBoy ALWAYS had cigarettes, he was addicted to them, even though he shouldn't have them. I laughed as he took out a package, and handed it to him. We were walking again, except NOW, He was asking ME the questions.
My past wasn't exactly pretty, and I could tell that he knew that too. I mean, where does a girl like me belong? No where. So, I answered his questions carefully, or didn't answer some at all.
When we rounded a turn into an alley, I saw a group standing around. One looked about the same age as PonyBoy, so I took him as Johnny. Maybe he didn't die, Maybe Hinton added this twist for kicks, Because she knew the book wouldn't get published if there wasn't some more excitement. I laughed, as one of the guys walked up to me, goofing off.
"Two-Bit," I thought out loud, and as I had suspected, it was. He gave me a funny wink, which made my stomach quiver. "Now Since you know my name, What's Yours?" He made a move to wrap an arm around my shoulders, until I brought a fist up.
"Touch me, and You'll die of pain." I brought up my foot, and went to ram him in the same place as I had gotten PonyBoy. But he jumped sideways a little, and I kicked his thigh.
He yelped too, but softer, and grinned. "Brought home a stubborn one, huh?" He asked, and I nearly died laughing. PonyBoy looked at me for a second, and then back at the rest of them. He knew I was like them, but I wasn't. He knew that he could use me as a spy for the greasers, and I would do it too. But he shook his head at Two-Bit. "Leave her alone."
So this was what the gang was like? I'm worse than them! I've gotten kicked out of my house, Who knows how many times, I have my own personal cell down at the police office, and I bet on the horses.
The only thing, is that I have something of value. It belongs to Soda, and I intended on giving it back. But I couldn't find him.