Title- Outsider Jess

Chapter Title- Revenge of the Car Owning Socs

Disclaimer- I don't own The Outsiders

"Hey! Those are my pants!" Steve said as he walked through the door. I finished putting on my scissor sweater, as my friend Danielle called it, because I kept my scissors in the pocket all the time. I did most lifting with her.

"They sure are, and I don't plan on giving them back either," I told him.

"Why?"

"Don't you worry your little pea-sized brain over it."

"Where ya goin'?"

"No where, don't wait up." He looked at me puzzled and I got into the black convertible.

I casually walked into the store and found a pair of pants my size. I walked into the booth and was grateful Steve's pants were bigger. That was the main rule. Wear oversized clothing of the same type you want to lift. If I was going to lift a blouse, I would wear a big one into the store, if I wanted a skirt, I would wear my long skirt. It's pretty simple. I cut the tags and headed out of the booth.

"Where are the pants you were holding?"

"I must've left them in the booth," I responded to the lady and hurried out of the store.

I got into the car and pulled off Steve's pants. I looked on the floor for the cigarettes I swiped yesterday and when I found them I took out a pen and scribbled on the box:

"Thanks for letting me borrow these, enjoy the cigarettes-"

I put the box in the pocket and put them on the stoop, knocked on the door and drove away. 'Now to have fun,' I thought. I drove to a place called "The Dingo" and sat in the car awhile. It got boring.

I walked to some bar, wondering if they'd let me in. Finally, I found one that would let me in.

"You sort of look like Steve Randle," a guy told me.

"I should," I snapped, "I'm his half-sister." That got boring pretty fast as well. I lived on Long Island, you know, New York. Me and Danielle always hopped a train to the city. That was fun. I left and went into my car.

"Golly, we just can't escape this girl, can we Mike?" Crap, out of all the things I needed, I ran into the Socs.

"Give us back our car, and we won't start anything." I shook my head; this would be one hell of a night.

"She wants a fight," Mike, I guess, said to the boy. 'What did I get myself into?' I got out of the car and reached into my pocket. I felt my scissors, the ends were semi-pointy, not that I wanted to hurt anybody, I just wanted them to leave me alone!

We didn't get very far because soon Steve came by in, I guess, the Curtis car, because Soda was with him.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath.

"Jessica I-Don't-Know-Your-Middle-Name Tracens-Randle!"

"Carol, my middle name is Carol." The two Socs seized the opportunity to grab the car but I turned around so quickly and punched the nameless one in the back of the head. That got him started, but I pulled out my scissors.

"Leave," I hissed at him. Mike grabbed his car and rode off with it.

"Damn," I said as I watched my car leave. Soda gave me and Steve a ride home and I went to Steve's room, he was close behind.

"I don't wanna know why you had scissors in your pocket, but why pick a fight?"

"I'm 17, I can handle myself. Why'd you look for me?"

"I found my pants on the stoop; I was thinkin' you were runnin' around with nothin' on, where'd you get the pants?" I pushed him out of the room, slammed the door in his face, and locked it.