Disclaimer: The Outsiders is © S.E.Hinton. I own Matt and Nate. Hahukum Konn owns Shawn, and I use him only with Hahukum's kind permission. I make no cash. Though I really need some. I have a 500-dollar schoolbook fee.

Yay! Fanfiction finally fixed itself! I can post and get reviews! Whoopee!

Chapter Eleven
Supper With Soda

Just as Soda said I should, I went back home the next morning, instead of hitchhiking all the way to Cleveland. But when I stepped out into the yard, I saw an unfamiliar sight. Planted right smack dab in the middle of our tiny front yard, there was a sign. "ROOM FOR RENT," it said.

"Hello, Matt," said Nate curtly when he saw me walk into the door. I realized that he was trying his best not to yell at me, but I could tell it was a challenge for him.

I glared at him. "You better not dare be renting out my room," I said, trying to remain calm. I couldn't believe it. My own brother…

He laughed shortly. "I see you've seen the sign."

"You bet I've seen the sign, and you know what, I…"

"Hold your horses Matty-boy, it's not your room I'm renting out. It's the spare in the back of the house. Mom and Dad would never forgive me if I kicked out my own kid brother…"

Mom and Dad. So perhaps he still did care.

"Besides," added Nate. "Your room is in no fit state to rent out anyway. It's a pigsty, the way you keep it."

Nate picked up his breakfast dishes up off the kitchen table and dumped them in the sink. But to my surprise, he didn't wash them. He just left them there.

"I'm late," he said shortly. He turned to the door to leave. But before he did he called back, "By the way, you're grounded. No movies, no dates, no friends, no leaving the house, got it? And when I get back from work today, I expect to find this house spotless; we can't expect to find a boarder if this house is a mess."

"What did I do?" I asked, horrified.

"You cut school," he answered, then left to go to the DX.

I started swearing under my breath, but it was pretty clear that if I did not do as Nate said, I'd get belted later on. Best to just do it now, before I got in real trouble.

Eight Hours Later…

Oh my God, I thought. I had never in my wildest dreams thought that one house could be so goddamn messy. I had to wash and dry all the dishes, change the sheets on the beds, vacuum the house, do all the laundry (which was an incredibly enormous amount for only two people) dust the furniture, pick up all the trash lying around (mostly from Two-Bit's welcome to the neighborhood party), and clean out all the closets.

After lugging out what seemed to be the millionth trash bag to the curb, I sunk down on the couch. I sighed, relieved. I was finally done. Boy, Nate had better appreciate this…

My stomach growled. I hadn't even stopped for lunch in my cleaning frenzy. Breakfast at the Curtises seemed so long ago.

Though I was exhausted, I heaved myself up from the couch and made my way to the kitchen. I dug though the cabinets and through the refrigerator, trying to find something I could eat. I sunk down into a kitchen chair, exasperated. Who was I trying to kid? I couldn't cook to save my life.

"Boo!" came a voice behind me. I turned with a start. For a brief second, I thought a soc had entered though the unlocked door.

I turned around and faced the intruder.

Phew. It was only Soda. Thank God. I really should remember to lock that door…

"Hiya Matt!" he said, grinning.

"Soda," I said, "as much as I would like you to hang around, I'm grounded. If Nate caught you here, he would…"

Sodapop held up his hand to stop me. "Nate," he said, matter-of-factly, "is not here. Nate is working the night shift. Nate will not be home until at least ten o'clock. So," he continued, "what have you been doing this fine evening?"

"I've been cleaning," I said shortly. "Now I'm tryin' to find somethin' to eat."

Soda looked horrified. "Don't you tell me that you don't know how to cook?"

I shrugged. "It's not that I don't know how. I've just never had to cook before, that's all."

He looked at me skeptically. "Uh huh." He gave me another one of his reckless, movie star grins and turned towards the cabinets, pulling out ingredients.

"Shouldn't you be cooking supper at your own house?" I asked. God only knows what I was getting myself into…

"Nope! Darry is still at work and Pony went to the Nightly Double with Two-Bit. It's just you and me."

Oh great…

Deftly, Soda started pouring ingredients into a bowl.

"Soda, what are you making, anyway?"

"Soda Surprise!" he exclaimed. "Now, for the final ingredient." He slipped a small bottle of dark liquid out of his jean pocket. He popped open the lid, squirted in a couple of drops, and stirred.

I watched for a moment. Great. It was food dye. Orange food dye.

Soda popped it into the oven, grinning. Then we went to watch TV.

An hour later…

"Hey, Soda?" I asked. "What was that noise?"

"Dunno, probably just a cat knockin' over a trash can or somethin.' And with all the trash that's out on your curb, that wouldn't be too hard to trip over."

I laughed. "Hey, I wonder if dinner's ready."

The two of us walked into the kitchen. Then I took a look at the room, horrified.

As it turned out, it hadn't been some cat knockin' over a trash can. It had been our oven door. It had burst open when, well, whatever Soda was making, exploded. Yes, I mean it, it exploded. The orange goo spilled out of the oven and all over the floor. Great globs of the stuff stuck to the walls and ceiling.

"Soda, did you happen to put any yeast into your… creation?" I asked shakily.

"Maybe," he said slowly.

"How much did you use?"

"I dunno, a couple of packs, I think."

A couple of packs. I might not have known much about cooking but I knew you just didn't put that damn much yeast into something.

"Nate's gonna kill me," I moaned. I grabbed a mop out of the broom closet. I should at least try to get some of this stuff cleaned up before he came home and decided to belt me…

Just then, I heard a knock at the door.

"Come in!" called Soda.

Oh great. Could this possibly get any worse?

"Um, hi," said the newcomer. "I saw the sign in the yard and I wanted to rent a room in the area… Holy crap! What the hell happened in here?"

"Hi Shawn," said Soda.

Shawn. I looked at the guy and found that it really was the guy who had brought me home after being jumped, given that Soda already knew his name.

"Soda, did you try to cook again?" Shawn asked. I noticed that he had a strange accent. Sorta northern-ish, though he kept his r's in. He had a slight Tulsa drawl though, as if he had been here just long enough to kinda catch on. Weird.

Sodapop had the good grace to look a little bit sheepish as he nodded to Shawn, who groaned and started muttering something about product warning labels.

"Come on, you guys," Shawn said. "We'd better get this place cleaned up. No telling how hard this stuff will stick if we leave it till morning."

Two hours later, we had the kitchen cleaned, and something decent to eat in the oven. Soda, not wanting to cause me any more trouble, had gone home. Shawn and I were sitting at the table cutting up some meatloaf when Nate came home.

"Matt, I'm home," he called as he entered the house. "And this house had better be… who the heck are you?" Nate asked, entering the kitchen, pointing to Shawn.

"Nate," I said, "we've got ourselves a boarder."

Thank the stars he never knew about our orange exploding dinner fiasco.

- - - - -

Again, a big thank you to Hahukum Konn who let me use Shawn and also beta-ed this chapter. Plus, he puts up with my mindless jabber, so he gets extra points for that. :) He also corrected some of my facts, and added some humor. Thanks!

Anyway, now that ff.n is working, I expect reviews. Thanks to those of y'all who were able to review though.

Hahukum Konn- Glad it made you laugh. Hope this one did too.

Darkdestiny2000- Thanks. Yep, ff.n broke itself again. That needs to stop. But yeah, Matt is finally seein' the consequences of his actions.

Bookworm

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