A/N: This little story has been in my head so long I just had to write it. Hope you all like it! Basic summary: The Curtis family had a daughter named Mia. Born between Sodapop and Ponyboy, the family had fallen on such hard times financially that they'd had to give their baby daughter up. Now, fifteen years later, she's about to meet her birth family for the very first time.

Disclaimer: The Outsiders and all related belong to S.E. Hinton. I only own Mia, Kelsey, and any other OCs that may come up.

Chapter One

The sunlight fell in shafts over my bed, waking me up, just like it did each and every morning. I stretched out in the Egyptian cotton sheets, then suddenly sat up. This was it. The day I'd been waiting for all my life. It was a wonder I'd slept at all, especially since I rarely sleep well anymore.

I sat down at the dressing table in my New York City apartment, picking up my brush to fix my hair. Tilting my head to one side, I surveyed my looks, trying to see myself like an outsider would. Dark brown hair to my shoulders, wide blue eyes with long black lashes, slightly pale porcelain skin that never tanned well- did these traits make me pretty? I've never been sure. But looking at my reflection often did make me think about my birth family, and whether or not I looked like them. Of course, I was thinking about that more than usual on this particular morning.

For, you see, I've never met any of my relatives. Not one. From what I know, I was given up for adoption when I was a few months old, in the city of Tulsa, Oklahoma. I did have a first name, Mia, but my last name was given to me when I was adopted six months later by a widowed Manhatten socialite named Risa de Barbarac, turning me into Mia Victoria de Barbarac.

I'm not entirely sure, to this day why Risa wanted to adopt me, or anyone for that matter. For companionship, probably. She was around forty-five when I came to her, widowed already and childless, wanting a little girl to raise and to inherit the de Barbarac money. I loved her so very much, and losing her to cancer five months ago had been more painful than I had ever thought possible, even though we knew it was coming.

Shaking myself out of my reverie, I tried in vain to do something with my masses of very thick hair, but it was no use. I needed a professional- someone expert at managing chaos.

"Kelsey!" I called out, trying now to work a comb through the tangles. "Kelsey, emergency hair situation, I'm in dire need of your help!" I resisted the urge to ring the small bell on the table next to me, since Kelsey doesn't like being summoned that way. I can't imagine why. None of my other staff minds it a bit.

The heavy mahogany door to my dressing room opened to admit my ladies' maid. Kelsey was in her late twenties, a cheery woman of Irish descent with sparkling black hair and eyes. She'd been my personal maid since I was twelve, and probably knew me better than anyone in the world.

Clicking her tongue at the mess on top of my head, Kelsey crossed the room, picked up my comb, and started gently working through the knots.

"Miss Mia, how on earth does this happen, just in your sleep? Honestly, I've enough to do with all your packing before we leave."

I rolled my eyes and settled back into my chair, wincing slightly at the tugging at my scalp.

"Big day for you, isn't it?" Kelsey continued as she started to brush my now untangled hair. "Are you nervous, at all? You needn't be. I'm sure they'll love you."

I remained silent, fiddling with the tray of nail polish. Of course I was nervous. Scared stiff, actually, if you want the truth. Who wouldn't be, flying off to Tulsa to meet their birth family for the first time?

The phone call first came two months ago. I was moping around my new Madison Avenue penthouse, desolate after Risa's death. I'd moved out of our old apartment, though technically I still owned it. I couldn't take constantly being surrounded by the memories anymore, and I thought maybe a fresh start would do the trick. It didn't. I had, at fifteen, lost the only family I had ever known. Because of who my family was, it was easy for me to obtain the status of an emancipated minor. I had an excellent staff, after all- everyone knew I would be well looked after.

But then my former social worker called, to tell me my birth parents had died that morning in a car accident. When I heard that, a whole other part of me shattered. All my life I had wanted to get to know my birth family, find out who and where I came from. Now it was too late. I would never know.

That, however, was not the end of it. I had brothers, I learned- two older, one younger. They wanted to meet me. Did I, the social worker asked, want to meet them? And I leapt at the chance. I had waited so long for this, exactly this.

So after nearly eight weeks of planning, three letters, and one phone call, the day had arrived. My flight was booked for two that afternoon, due to arrive in Tulsa at five-thirty. I would be traveling with Kelsey, and we would take a cab to our hotel downtown before I would meet them at their house for dinner at seven.

"What if they don't like me?" I whispered, forgetting Kelsey was still in the room. She paused in her brushing and dropped a kiss on top of my head.

"I told you before, Miss Mia, they're going to love you. Now stand up, we still need to figure out what you're going to wear today."

"How on earth do I figure that out?" I demanded. "This isn't an occasion that we've learned how to dress for at school, you know."

"Perhaps they'll cover that next semester," Kelsey said dryly. She didn't need to say anything more- her disapproval of my attending the Selwyn School for Girls was well known. Kelsey always had expected more from me academically than anyone else, and had no idea why Risa had insisted on my attending a finishing school, rather than a more academic one.

But I was in no mood for her remarks on my upbringing that morning.

"That will be all, Kelsey," I said sharply, standing up. Kelsey left the room, shutting the door behind her rather more forcefully than was needed.

With a sigh, I opened one of the large wardrobes that lined the walls of my dressing room and started methodically flicking through the racks of clothes.

A/N: I know it was short, but it was more of a prologue than anything; the real story is still to come. Please review; opinions are most wanted, and I want to know if the story's worth continuing.