Title- New York

Summary- A one-shot about what happened while Jessica was in New York… You have to read "Outsider Jess" first.

Disclaimer- I do not own The Outsiders

Note- This is not the full sequel to "Outsider Jess" this was made to occupy my mind while I was thinking of an idea for that. You'll probably see the sequel within the next three days. This is just what happened in New York and is sort of in between the first story and the sequel. The sequel will be called "The Return of Jess". Thanks to everybody who reviewed for "Outsider Jess" and if you think my writing can be improved, please tell me instead of waiting last minute. I'm really sorry to all of those who thought I didn't give enough information, I will work on that.

Dead, the word echoed in my mind as I woke up the next day. Mark was dead, he died. I flew all this way, just to find out Mark dies after a week? I tried to convince myself it was a dream. This wasn't real. I would wake up soon, and I would be on Steve's bed. I definitely was not in New York, with my friend dead.

I cried as much as I ever had at his funeral. Well, not as much as when my mother died. It was hard for me to believe he was dead. Mark was a fighter; I didn't want to think of him as dead. I didn't want to believe that was his pale body in the casket being lowered slowly into the ground. I just didn't want to accept the fact he was dead.

"So, Jessica, what happened while you were away?" Danielle's mother asked me about a month later. I already was gone a month, and I wondered if the gang was worried. I had told them two weeks. Danielle's mother wanted to know. Should I tell her?

"I met my step-brother, and got a boyfriend," I began. I couldn't believe I told her I had a boyfriend. I couldn't believe I considered Soda my boyfriend. It had only been to the movies, twice. Mark was devastated when I had to leave, I don't think she would have expected me to move on that quickly.

"I dropped out of school," I told her.

"Why? You were always so smart Jessica." She frowned. I knew she was worried about me.

"I got a job, but was fired. I was caught shoplifting, I heard voices and I was a kleptomaniac." She looked surprised.

"You poor child, we need to get you help," she told me and walked away. Soon I heard her start to call clinics looking for a good psychologist.

They found one and I was in a clinic for about a month. I was cured, or so they said. I hoped it was true. I didn't go to stores much.

I found a job waitressing. I was pretty good, I quickly learned the short hand and I was very nice to the customers. That was very hard; I couldn't be sarcastic or bitchy like I normally was.

I spent my first three paychecks right away. I cashed them and put the money in three separate envelopes, addressed them to the gang: Keith Mathews, The Curtis Family, and Steve Randle. I didn't put a return address, I don't know why, maybe I didn't want to be found, and I sent them to everybody. I paid everybody back, plus I threw in a little extra money. Maybe I threw it in for the trouble I caused.

Danielle and I went to the movies, and I tried to start a food fight. Danielle became really uptight when I left though. She stopped shoplifting and hopping trains to the city. Was I a bad influence on her? Danielle looked at me like I was crazy, that happened the fifth month I was there.

Danielle and I grew apart. She was really serious about school and her job, and I was still the kid I was. I dropped out of school, so it's not like that matters and I really couldn't be more serious about being a waitress.

"You said you had a boyfriend there? Mark was completely devastated when you left, and we thought you were too. How could you be there for about three weeks and get a boyfriend?"

"You've changed Danielle, and I don't like it. I didn't come back to New York to find my best friend like this. I missed Mark terribly," I told her. Even though that was a lie, I could get over boys quickly. Right now though I missed Soda a lot and I hope he wasn't having any food fights with other girls.

I spent my sixth month trying to get a raise at work. I wasn't planning on living off of Danielle's family my entire life. I don't remember why I was staying in New York anyway. I had told the gang I'd be back in two weeks. I hoped they weren't worried. Well, if they were worried, they could call me. I left Danielle's number at my house. Actually, I doubt they got it. It probably was mixed into the crap on the floor. All of those beer bottles, newspapers, and cigarette butts.

I visited my mother's grave in my seventh month.

"What do I do mom? Do I try to go back and make things better?" I couldn't believe I was asking that, out loud at the least. What would happen if things weren't better? What would happen if they had moved on?

I sighed and got up. I went to the room I was staying in and pulled out the cardboard box from under the bed. I had enough money to get back to my true family, the family it took me seven months to figure out I had. I pulled out my suitcase and threw all of my things in it. On a piece of paper I scribbled a note.

"Thanks for all your generosity, but I need to go to my family. I'll miss you guys, and you could always call me. Thanks so much.

Love Jessica"

After signing the note I hitched a ride to the airport and got a ticket. Eventually I boarded a plane and kissed my life at New York good-bye.