A/N: I am so, so sorry about not updating. Stuff's been really crazy at my work. My co-workers's girlfriend just passed away, and he had to drive out-of-state to go to her funeral, and so I've been working more than I usually do. (Read: From 11:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. And I work at Hastings. Not really important, just figured y'all wanted to know.)
Disclaimer: In case you haven't realized, I'm not S.E. Hinton. (Slowly progresses into song) I'm just a sweet transvestite, from Transsexual, Transylvania. (Haha, not really. I live in Idaho.)
Dedicated to: Ellen, for helping me write this chapter and going with me to buy my Beastie Boys shirt and 'The Half-Blood Prince' and swimming suit.
"Tim, just talk to him!" Alicia said, exasperated. "You're such a pain in the ass just moping around." She stormed around the kitchen, waiting for her cup of coffee to be done. Last night, someone drank the last of the beer, so Alicia had to deal with the last thing she had. Water or milk was out of the question: she needed something strong.
Tim took a drink from his own cup. "I'm not 'moping around.'"
Alicia whirled around and put her hands on her hips. "Whaddya call it, then? 'Just sitting around, feeling depressed and shit?'"
"I'm not depressed," he snapped.
"Yes you are." Angela appeared in the doorway. "And there's no need to get defensive." She smirked and grabbed a mug, pouring some of the hot, black coffee into it.
"I'm not getting defensive," Tim snarled.
Angela cocked an eyebrow and smirked. "Sounds pretty defensive to me."
Her brother took another drink and stood. "I gotta go."
"Where?"
Tim wiped his hands on his jeans and grabbed his jacket. "I'm meeting some friends," he responded, shortly.
"Where're you going?" Alicia demanded, lighting a cigarette.
He shrugged. "Around."
Angela drained her cup and grabbed Alicia's arm. "C'mon, Ali, we're gonna be late."
"Since when do you care if we're late?"
"Since Ms. Englund said that I'd have before-school detention again if I'm late again for homeroom."
Her sister rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she said, and stood, grabbing her jacket and together they ran out the door.
Alicia linked her dark arm through Summer's snow-white one. It never failed to startle her how colorless Summer's skin was. She was lucky that she didn't get those bright red pimples that most girls got, because it would stand out like a beacon on her. Alicia wondered how bad she burned in the summer.
Summer's full, red lips turned up at the corners. Brushing some of her dark off her face, she asked, "so, how's your brother?"
"Not so good. He's just moping around, feeling sorry for himself." Alicia scowled. She hated people who wallowed in their filth.
"He has a pretty good reason to, though," Summer said, quietly.
Alicia sighed and ran a hand through her long hair. That was one thing she liked and hated about Summer. She was smart. She thought things through. She was logical. Unlike Alicia, she didn't loathe on a dime or jump to conclusions. It must have been all the reading. "I guess you're right," she muttered.
Summer smiled, faintly. When she smiled, she looked almost pretty, except her eyes still got really big. "Do you feel sorry for him?"
"What?"
"Do you feel sorry for him?" Summer asked again, softly. She didn't say it in a mean way; rather, it was as though she really wanted to know the answer.
Alicia shrugged. She wasn't the type of person who wanted or gave pity. Pity was one of those emotions she didn't like: she didn't want people to pity her, nor did she want to pity others. But, honestly, she did feel sort of sorry for Tim. He was going to Vietnam and Dallas hated him. He was pretty screwed over. She sighed. "I guess I sorta do."
Her friend nodded, solemnly. "Good."
Angela slammed the tray down in front of Curly. "There's your goddamned burger and fries," she snarled, hating both her job as a low-paid waitress and her brother more and more. Curly merely grinned.
"Thanks, Angel."
"Angela!" Karl, her assistant general manager stormed over to her.
She sighed. "Yes?"
He looked flustered, and was turning an unflattering shade of mottled red. "How many times have I told you not to curse at the customers?"
Angela laughed. "No, see, he's not a real customer. He's my brother," she explained.
Karl bristled with indignation. "He's a paying customer. You must treat him with respect."
"Yeah, Angela, respect," Curly mimicked.
"Shut it!" she barked.
"Angela!" warned Karl.
The annoying bell tinkled, signaling someone was coming in. It was Alicia, and she strode over to Curly and Angela. Collapsing into the booth across from Curly, she said to Angela, "Guess what? I saw that Soda kid and he said-"
Karl, Assistant General Manager of the World, cut her off. "I'm sorry, miss, but now's not a good time." He turned back to Angela. "If I catch you swearing at a customer one more time, you're fired."
"Yes, Karl," Angela said, knowing that he would never fire her. Max's had gotten a lot more customers since Angela worked there. She was pretty and flirty and attracted men like flies to honey. Though she defiantly wasn't as sweet.
Twenty minutes later, her shift was over, and she sat down next to Alicia. Slowly, they demolished Curly's French fries and listened while Alicia recounted Soda's story. Apparently, Steve Randle and Dally got caught fighting some guys and were in the cooler.
Curly listened with less-than-rapt attention, when something caught his eye over Angela's shoulder. Or, rather, someone. A girl was wiping down a table on the other side of the café. She had long, pale gold hair, pale skin and a rather nice backside. Curly's mouth fell open and his eyes widened.
Angela snapping her fingers in his face brought Curly back to Earth. "Curly, what are you looking at?"
He nodded at the girl. "Who's that?"
Angela turned. "Her? Oh, that's Nini. She works here. Why?"
"Call her over."
"What?"
Curly rolled his eyes. "Just call her over."
Angela looked apprehensive. "Better be careful with this one, Curly. She's got a temper." Then she turned to Nini, who was wringing out her cloth. "Hey, Nini! Come over here!"
Nini glanced over her shoulder. When she saw Angela, she strode over, pale hair flying. She was a beauty. Her gold hair framed a lovely pale, heart-shaped face and her eyes were a deep green. "Angela!" she exclaimed. "What're ya doin' here, still? Yer shift's over." Nini may have looked delicate, but she had a rough, grating voice and she sounded British.
"Oh, we just wanted to see how you were doing," Angela said, smiling.
The blonde snorted. "Not so good. Karl's threatin' to fire me, 'cause I haven't showed up for a while. Says that he could give the job to a chit who'll show up and won't back sass." Her eyes fell on Alicia and Curly. "Who're you?"
"I'm Alicia," she said, smiling.
Curly gave Nini the once-over. "And I'm all yours," he smirked, eyes gleaming.
Nini was unimpressed. "Sorry, kid, but I'm spoken for. Why don'tcha find someone yer own age?"
Alicia tried to abort her laugh, and it came out as a sort of hacking cough.
Curly was taken aback. Normally girls climbed all over him. Nini raised an eyebrow. "Whassa matter? Cat gotcher tounge? Or are ya just dumb?"
No matter how stupid Curly was, he never failed to surprise. "Just imagining how you would look naked."
Alicia kept her head down, and her shoulders were shaking in silent laughter. Angela was slumped down in her seat, brutally embarrassed.
Nini snorted again. "Kid, I'm eighteen. I don't care how old ya are, I still ain't datin' you, savvy? Ya know what that would do to my reputation? Pretty soon I'll be 'Nini, the chit who sleeps with an' datestwelve year olds.' An' I don't want to be that girl. So, if you"
"I'm not twelve," Curly said. "I'm sixteen. I just look young."
"Curly, that is the biggest load of shit I've ever heard," Alicia said.
He shot her a look that plainly told her to shut up.
Nini saw the look and laughed. Looking at her nails, she said, "you'd be better off dating your sister, Curly, 'cause I don't do kids." With those words, she strode off, leaving Curly feeling very foolish.
Tim was on one of his nightly walks. When he was angry or upset, he just took to roaming the streets. Lately, he walked more than ever. Clutched in one hand was a beer bottle, and in the other was a pack of cigarettes. He filled his lungs with smoke and his gut with alcohol in an attempt to empty his head of everything. Then he heard a crash in a nearby alley and a voice rang out.
"You keep your grubby 'ands off me!" Tim looked over at the alley, and saw a couple big guys. They were cornering a girl, and she was trying to push them off her. "I swear to God, if you touch me one more time, I'll wring your neck!" she snarled. One of them caught her by the hair, and she slapped him, hard.
"Aw, c'mon, girlie. Kiss me once?" Tim recognized them. They were friends of Curly's. Kurt, Billy, Joel and David. They were about fifteen or sixteen, and if they had any common sense, they would respect him.
As much as it pained Tim to admit it, he and Alicia really did have a lot in common. One of them was the desire for fairness. Both of them hated outnumbering. And even if he was completely shit-faced, he could see that this chick needed some help or something really horrible would happen.
"Hey, man, lay off," Tim slurred, trying to restore his self-composure.
The one who was holding the girl by the hair dropped her. "Hey, Tim, when did you get out of the cooler?"
"I've been out for a while," Tim answered vaguely. Then he nodded at the girl. "And I'll thank you not to touch my girl."
She stared at him, confused. "What?"
Obviously, Tim had stuck all of them dumb. "You know her?" one of the kids asked.
Tim nodded, rather amused with the whole thing. "Yeah, we've been going out for a while. Now clear off, before I skin ya."
The boys exchanged glances, then slouched off. Tim turned at looked at the girl, and he was struck by her beauty. Her long hair was pale blonde and her eyes were a bright, piercing green. Instead of looking grateful, she scowled at him. "I didn't need your help," she snapped. Her purse clasp was broken, and her makeup, wallet and everything were scattered all over the ground.
Bending down, Tim grabbed a lipstick tube and handed to her. "Here, you dropped this," he offered, trying to be nice. He didn't know why he was trying, because the girl would have none of it.
She snatched it out of his hand, and glared at him. "I don't need your help. Now fuck off, kid, and leave me the hell alone." Her glare was almost deadly.
Tim was taken aback. No one had called him "kid" in a while. The last time, he thought, was when he was fourteen. Who did this broad think she was? "I ain't a 'kid,'" he said. For some reason, her particular comment reminded him strongly of Angela. His little sister was proud and cold and he could tell this girl was the same. Examining the blonde, he could tell that she was either his age, or a little younger. "I'm about the same age as you."
She snorted. "I'm eighteen." Her voice was rough and bitter and metallic.
He smirked. "Same here."
Raising her eyebrows, she asked, her tone softening a little, "do ya know them? Those kids, I mean."
Tim shrugged. "Sort of. I mean, my younger brother does."
The blonde girl nodded, and sat down on the cement step in front of the back door of the café. Tim sat down next to her. Pulling a pack of cigarettes out of her white purse, she lit one, and offered one to him. He took it, and for a while, the smoked in silence. "So, what's your name?" Tim asked.
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Nini," she said.
"Just Nini? No last name?" he asked. When she didn't answer, they continued to smoke in the silence.
Then, "Christine," she whispered. "Chapman. That's me real name. But I've been Nini for 's long as I can remember." Her curtain of pale hair fell in front of her face. She brushed it away impatiently. "And you're a Shepard."
Tim raised his eyebrows. "How the hell do you know?"
Nini smirked. "I knew it. There's a chit that comes inta Max's a lot, and you look almost exactly alike. She's a Shepard, Alicia, I think her name is, and if she was a few feet taller an' a few years older, y'all could pass as twins."
He didn't know if he should be shocked or impressed by this piece of information. Yes, if Alicia were a few years older they could pass as fraternal twins. Everyone knew that. Even this new, weird chick. He decided to change the subject.
"So, Nini, where're you from? I've never seen you before."
"England. London, if ya want specifics. My mum moved us here after a row with my dad. I was about sixteen, and we went to Broken Arrow. We lived there for a few years, then she just up an' died." She looked almost disgusted.
Tim said the only thing he could. "Sorry." He didn't really know what to make of Nini. She spoke of her mother's death with such simplicity and lack of emotion that it almost surprised him.
She rolled her eyes. "Don't be. I don't even know how she died, an' I don't care. She was a pain in the ass anyway."
For some unfathomable reason, Tim actually liked his mother. He would never admit it to anyone, but he appreciated her. She kept out of his way and left him alone and didn't mind when he came home drunk. She was lenient. When he was younger, she didn't make him take care of or baby-sit Alicia and Angela. If he and his father fought, she would take Tim's side. All she cared about was that he didn't get Curly into too much trouble (not that Curly needed any help) and that he made sure he approved of the boys Alicia and Angela dated.
He shrugged. "So then what?"
"I came here. An' I got a job." Nini's cool, grating voice trailed off. She dragged her long pale hair over her shoulder and ran her fingers through it. "I don' really know why I came to Tulsa," she mused. "Guess it was because I wanted somethin' new, ya know? I wanted to go somewhere I'd never been. But sometimes I think of London, and I get sorta homesick. I had some real nice friends there. The kind that're always there and've always got your back. They were great."
Tim silently agreed with her. He wanted to get the hell out of Tulsa, maybe even Oklahoma. He remembered once, when they were really drunk, Dally told him about New York, and Tim thought that he might want to visit sometime. Dally said there were gangs and bars and clubs and it was fun. But that memory made him think of Dally, which made him want to think of something else.
"I'm going away," he said, and Nini looked up. "And I ain't ever coming back." But he knew that wasn't true, because Tulsa was like a part of him, just like Dally was like a part of him, and Curly and Alicia and Angela and his mother. Maybe he did want to leave, but he knew he would come back. Someday.
"Why ain't ya coming back?" Nini asked.
Tim shrugged. "I hate it here."
She laughed. "It's kinda funny, in a way, 'cause I don't hate it here. I mean, I don' really like it, but I don' hate it. Maybe it's your sister that makes it better."
"Which one?"
"Angela. She's pretty cool, you have to admit." Nini laughed a little. "She's a piece. Never met anyone like her."
Tim processed this information. While he wouldn't go so far as to say that Angela was "cool," he liked her. Unlike Alicia, she knew when to back off and shut up. He nodded at Nini. "She's all right."
"So, what's it like?" Nini asked. When Tim gave her a quizzical look, she elaborated. "To have two sisters and a brother, I mean. I don't have any siblings."
Tim laughed. "It can be a bitch." The question actually got him thinking. True, if he had it his way, he wouldn't have any sisters or a brother, but at the same time, he sort of liked it. It was fun in a way to have drunken conversations with Curly and beat up kids for Angela because they annoyed her and watch stupid Audrey Hepburn movies with Alicia, and he liked the feeling that they were there, always. They were there because they were family, and, no matter what anyone said about the Shepards, they stuck together. He knew that his gang wasn't always going to be there, but Curly, Angela and Alicia would.
"D'ya like them?" Nini said. Her pretty green eyes were fixed on his.
Tim thought for a moment. 'Like' wasn't really the word he would use to describe his feelings toward Curly, Angela or Alicia. He didn't have a problem with Curly, got along with Angela and could tolerate Alicia. He shrugged. "Yeah, sort of."
"You're lucky," Nini said, quietly.
He snorted. "Why?"
"You've got your sisters and brother. Angie really likes ya. She says that you protect her and Curly and Alicia."
Tim raised an eyebrow. "No she didn't." Angela would never say anything like that.
Nini glared at him. "Are you callin' me a liar, Shepard? Y'all can say anythin' about me, but I sure as hell don't lie."
Her eyes were flashing, and Tim backed down. He really didn't feel like fighting now. All he really wanted to do was go home and go to sleep. "When did she say that?"
Nini took a long drag on her cigarette. "While back. 'Bout… eh, three weeks ago."
Three weeks. Tim tried to think back to three weeks ago, but his head was so hazy with alcohol and cigarettes and fatigue he couldn't. All he remembered was watching in mute fascination as Angela and Alicia burned down the school stage. And that was near Thanksgiving, so by that reckoning it was December. December. It was already fucking December. That meant only one month 'til New Year's and another four months after that until he was deported. Jesus motherfuckin' Christ. He took another long drag on his cigarette, then stood. "I've gotta go," he said.
Nini got to her feet. "I'd better get home, too," she mumbled. Her long legs were wobbling a little as she stood, and Tim helped her until she was upright. Nini smiled at him. "Thanks." She had a really nice smile, Tim realized. As she walked away in the opposite direction, she called over her shoulder, "see ya 'round."
The moment Tim entered his house, he realized something was amiss. His parents were sitting together, talking calmly and seriously. They never talked. They yelled and screamed and threw things, but never talked. But Tim welcomed the quiet. He just wanted to sleep.
Stumbling up the stairs, he started down the hall to his bedroom. The light was on in Alicia and Angela's room, and he heard their door creak open. "Tim!" It was Angela. "Come here. We gotta talk."
He turned and glared at her. "No, Angela, I'm tired. We'll talk later."
"No, Tim, we have to talk now. It's a family meeting."
He groaned. "Fine, five minutes."
Her head turned and she said in a mocking voice, "toldja." Then he could hear Alicia mutter something in response.
Alicia and Angela were sitting on Alicia's bed, and Curly was on Angela's. Tim sat next to his brother. Alicia didn't wait for any questions. "Ma and Dad are getting a divorce," she blurted promptly.
For some reason, Tim knew this was coming. It didn't stop him from being a bit shocked, though. "What?"
"They were talking about it earlier. Me and Ang were in here and mom came in and, calm as hell, she said, 'you're father and I are splitting up.' And then she left."
"So?" Tim asked.
"Right now, they're talkin' about custody and all that," Curly said. "Ma says she's only gonna take two of us."
Angela scowled. "It's like she's talking about toys or somethin'. Not her own goddamned kids."
"I ain't goin' to live with dad," Alicia piped up.
"You might have to," Angela pointed out. "It's not like we're gonna get a choice who we're going with-" she stopped in the middle of her sentence. "Wait. I just had an idea. Tim, you're eighteen, right?"
Tim rolled his eyes. "No shit."
Angela ignored him. "Why don't you buy an apartment?"
Three pairs of eyes landed on her. "What?" Tim asked.
"Yeah, see, you can buy an apartment, and we can live with you. And after you leave…" she trailed off. Tim leaving was a sensitive topic for all of them. It was like a bruise that you tired not to touch, but sometimes accidentally prodded. She lowered her eyes and bit her lip. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to bring it up…"
Tim shook his head. "It's okay. I mean, it's gonna happen anyway, isn't it?"
Alicia didn't want to talk about Tim leaving. "I think it's a good idea, Angel," she said, quickly. "What do you think?" She looked right at Tim.
Tim turned Angela's idea over in his mind. He could most likely afford buy or rent an apartment. And he wouldn't mind living with his siblings as long as they left him alone and helped pay the bills. He wouldn't have to live with his parents anymore. No more abiding by their rules. No one to yell for being out too late. No one to tell him to go shopping for anyone but himself. Maybe he should get an apartment. After all, if his brother and sisters annoyed him too much, he could always kick them out. He nodded. "I like it."
A/N: Okay, this was a sucky chapter. (Le sigh) I swear, the next one will be better! I'm hoping it will be up on or before next Monday, but I'm not sure. (Runs off to start chapter 18.)