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I unfolded the piece of paper once more. It still said the same thing:

Meet me at the football field after school lets out.

- Two-Bit

I was sitting under the field goal at the far end of the field, waiting for Two-Bit. The note had landed on my desk in second period, and when I looked back behind me to see who had thrown it, Two-Bit winked at me.

After a few minutes of picking at the frayed edges of my English lit book, I noticed a tall shadow looming over me. I turned my eyes up. "Well, hey there."

"Well, hey back." And Two-Bit sat down across from me.

"So," I breathed out, feeling nervous, "why'd you want to meet?"

Two-Bit smirked. "Well," he drawled, "it has to do with your little, uh, confession."

"What about it?" I whispered.

"You still think you love me?"

I bit my lip. We were getting right into it, then.

Sure I did – of course I did. But what was the point in saying yes if all he was going to say was no? But I still nodded my head the tiniest bit.

"Good. Cuz I've been thinkin' about it a lot, and the bitch of it all is that I was a goner the second I clapped eyes on you."

Wait – what?

"Um," I stammered.

"I'm serious, Bee. The second I walked in the door, I was fucked. But do you wanna know what it really was? I wish I could say the same. Jesus Christ – I mean, you said that, and it was over. I was done for. And believe me, I was pissed about it at first. I was pissed because a guy like me ain't s'posed to go for girls like you, and because you've got a stick up your ass most times and I thought you would never go for it, but fucking hell, Bee. I haven't been able to get you outta my head since the day we met. So I guess we're good, Stevens. I guess we're good. Cuz I love you, too."

After Two-Bit was done, he lit up a cigarette and took a drag off it, blowing the smoke right in my face. I cringed. "Sorry," he apologized lamely. He was acting all tough again. I suppose he had to compensate for all that feeling he just did.

"So…what now?" I wondered, still not quite knowing what to say.

Two-Bit blew out another steady stream of smoke. "Well. I dunno."

"So this is it?"

"Huh?"

That probably wasn't the best way to put it. What I meant was…we loved each other. That was a fact, just out there for anybody to know. I didn't say anything for a very long time as I tried to rationalize it in my head. Two-Bit was a greaser; I was a soc. Two-Bit dated girls like Kathy; I dated boys like Jerry. Kathy was a blonde, short skirt-wearing, grade-A bitch; Jerry was a well-to-do, up-and-coming football player that wore nice sweaters and khaki pants. Two-Bit wore flannels and ripped jeans and kept his hair too long, and stayed out late at night with shifty hoods. I was...

I was...

Well, I suppose I was, to put it simply, the new girl. A confused girl. A very scared girl.

But as I kept thinking about it, the more I realized how wrong that was. Two-Bit wasn't just a long-haired greaser, and I wasn't just some schoolgirl. There is so much more to people than that.

"This isn't it," I breathed, for all the world sounding as though I was completely mystified by the possibility. This had so much more to it. It was beyond socs and greasers. It was beyond Tulsa. It was – is – beyond anything I could imagine.

This was sitting right in front of me, blowing smoke rings.

"I'm in love with you," I whispered.

"I thought we'd already covered that."

"Yeah. Yeah. But now I know why."

"Why?"

"Because of this."

In one swift motion, I leaned in, yanked the cigarette out of his mouth, stamped it out in the perfectly manicured grass of the football field, and kissed him for all I was worth. And that time, I didn't have to ask for permission. I wouldn't stayed there like that with Two-Bit forever, and I got the sense he would, too, but then he mumbled against my lips,

"Honey Bee, we can't stay here."

"Why not?"

"Well, I mean, if you really want every guy on the track team to watch us – "

"No!" I said quickly. "No, let's get out of here."

"Good idea."

We got out just in time, watching from behind the fence as they all filed in, and I was grateful Two-Bit had remembered because getting caught making out on the football field would have been so…unbecoming "That would've been so embarrassing," I mumbled. "I know a lot of them, too."

"What – embarrassing to get caught with me?"

"To get caught with anybody. It has nothing to do with you." I sighed, watching as all of them ran past us. "Your friend, Ponyboy, doesn't he run?"

Two-Bit nodded. "Yeah. Didn't exactly want to explain that just yet."

"Do they know?" I asked quietly, meaning his friends, my question almost drowned out by the sound of the team's feet pounding against the track.

"I haven't exactly outright told them, but…yeah, I think they do. Do your friends know?"

"Cherry knows," I whispered. Vickie knew, too, of course, but she didn't really count anymore. "But I'm going to tell the rest of them, too. Promise."

As we started to walk from the track and out to the parking lot so we could go our separate ways, I kept going back and forth between forgetting and remembering that we had…we had just told each other we loved each other.

He loved me!

"What was that song you were talkin' about a while back?" Two-Bit asked, making me stop short a few rows away from my car.

I raised an eyebrow in question. "Which one?"

"The one the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz sang, from that play – All American?" He guessed.

"Yeah, that's 'Once Upon a Time.'"

"How's it go?"

I clammed up a bit. I could sing my heart out in front of an auditorium of people, but in front of Two-Bit, an audience of one, I got nervous. "Uh. Why?"

"Cuz I might'a heard it on the radio the other day. Now – how's it go?"

"Oh, c'mon, Two-Bit – "

"What? It's just me! Nothin' to be scared of."

"Screw you."

"C'mon…"

"Seriously – screw you." But I took a deep breath and gave a half-assed, rushed, sorta version of the song. "Once upon a time, a girl with moonlight in her eyes, put her hand in mine, and said she loved me so…"

"Yeah! That's the one." He nudged his hand with mine. "See? That wasn't so bad."

I looked down at our hands. "No," I whispered. "I guess it wasn't."

"I know you wanna hold my hand, Bee."

I snorted. "Sure."

"Do it. I dare you."

"Not much of a dare," I grumbled, but I laced my fingers with his. "What are we gonna do now?" I asked, pulling him to me, forcing Two-Bit to look at me. "Do we…do I…"

"You know how you feel, honey," he said, stepping even closer, "and I know how I feel. And I know what I want, and that's for you to be happy. And you have to go about that whatever way you see fit."

"Two-Bit," I breathed, shaking my head, "I-I…" I sighed and rested her head on his chest, and Two-Bit automatically, almost as if he didn't have to think about it , started running his other hand through my hair. "I don't know what to do."

"I think you do," he assured me, like it was all so simple. "I know you're gonna do what you think is right."

"Well, for both our sakes, I sure hope so."

xXx

"You really are amazing, Bridget. Really, I never knew you could sing like that." Jerry let out a small laugh. "Course, I had some idea that you were a good dancer – knew it from experience," he winked.

I gave him a weak smile. "Thanks, Jer. It means a lot." It didn't mean as much as Two-Bit's smile, the one I could see in the sea of people. Didn't mean as much as him trying to catch me after the show, just to be shoved off by my friends. But it didn't mean nothing. That's what was going to make this so hard.

"Not a problem," Jerry said. "I just…I can't help but wonder why you would hide it from me. I mean it, Bee. I'm a lucky guy."

I took a sip of my Coke. "I don't know why I didn't tell you. Guess I thought you could figure it out for yourself."

Jerry laughed heartily. "Don't give me so much credit, babe."

Oh, he didn't have to worry about that anymore.

We sat in our booth at Jay's, talking over burgers and fries and Cokes. The conversation went from singing to The Beatles to LBJ to what we were going to do over the summer. All the time I kept my eyes on him, but I realized pretty quickly that I wasn't looking at Jerry. I was looking at long auburn hair and cocked eyebrows and broad grins that reminded Ponyboy Curtis of Will Rogers. And it wasn't too long after that I realized that I couldn't do it anymore. I may be a decent actress, but this was real life, not one of Cole Porter's show tunes. Jerry would be a lucky man no more in mere seconds, but we would both be better off for what I was about to do.

"Jerry," I interrupted, "I need to tell you something."

Jerry raised his eyebrows. "Sure, Bridget. What's up?" He kept his demeanor cool, just like always.

I almost didn't do it. I almost told him to never mind, that it wasn't anything. But I couldn't. I knew I couldn't. I owed it to Two-Bit, and I owed it to myself. Jerry Thompson was a good guy. But being with him was a waste of my time. And I wasn't about to let a man waste my time.

"Jerry," I repeated softly, "I can't do this anymore."

His face fell. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't think we should be together anymore."

"Why?"

Why. There was a long list of whys, and the one at the top would make Jerry want to kill me. Or him.

"I just…I mean, do you really think this is going anywhere?"

Jerry looked stumped. "I…I dunno," he shrugged. "I know that I like you."

"I like you, too," I said, but I couldn't settle for like, either. "You're a great guy, Jerry. It's just that…well, I just don't think we're right for each other. I think we want different things."

Our booth went silent. As what I said sank in, I could see Jerry's heart break a bit, and I felt like crying. He was the first boy to ever treat me right in a relationship, the first boyfriend I ever had, and I will always be grateful for that. But it just wasn't right.

"Alright," he choked out, nodding and clearing his throat. "Yeah, I…I hear ya. Is there…is there anything I could do – ?"

"No," I whispered. "I'm sorry, Jerry. I am. But I don't want to keep you from somebody who will love you the way you deserve to be. I'm really sorry."

He nodded again, paid for the meal, and I told him I would walk myself home. Jerry was too hurt to insist otherwise.

And that was that.

xXx

I was far from home, and I didn't have my car. I felt like crying as I began the long trek home. I went over my options: walk all the way home, hitch a ride, or call somebody. I had enough change that I could use a pay phone. There was one close to the school, a couple blocks down, so that's where I ended up, fingering the change in my pocket. Who was I supposed to call? Dad? No, he was out with Viv. I wouldn't even be able to get ahold of him. I didn't want to bother my friends. Missy didn't even have a car, and neither did Penny. I didn't want to call any of them anyway.

I just wanted to call him.

I dialed his number slowly, watching the dial spin. I held the receiver up to my ear and waited.

"'Lo?"

It was his voice, thick with sleep. I was amazed he was home that early, which may have suggested a hangover, but I wasn't in the position to question his sobriety too much.

"Two-Bit?"

"Bee?"

"Yeah. Yeah it's me."

"Whaddya need?"

I was trying so hard not to cry. "Could you come pick me up? I'm a couple blocks down from the school. Could you please come pick me up?" My voice sounded so pleading, so whiny, so helpless, that I wanted to hit myself. It had all finally happened, and I didn't feel at all liberated. I just felt like a jerk.

"Yeah, babe. Wait right there."

I heard the click on the other end and put the phone back in its cradle, then I sat on the curb and waited for Two-Bit to pull up, staring miserably out at the street. When he did, his truck came to a jerking, screechy halt, and he popped out of the truck.

"Oh, god," he kind of laughed. "Lookit you."

"Thank you," was all I said. Two-Bit held out his hand and helped me up, leading me over to the truck. He opened my door for me, and I waited for him to get back in.

"Why're you walkin all by yourself, huh?"

"Jerry wasn't exactly enthused about the idea of driving me home, considering I broke it off with him." I shrugged my shoulders, trying to show I didn't care. But I cared a little, remembering the look on his face. How it just sorta sank.

"You finally dumped him, huh?"

"Yeah," I whispered. "I did."

"Thank god. Maybe we can actually get something started now." Two-Bit turned the key in the ignition, but nothing happened. "Like this goddamn car, maybe." He kept trying, but it seemed as if the old rust bucket was finally giving out on him. "Damn thing won't start."

"You're kidding."

"Aw, shut up." Two-Bit looked out the windshield and seemed to get an idea. He slapped his hands on the steering wheel. "C'mon, Bee – I'mma get you home, c'mon."

"Wait – what? Two-Bit!"

Two-Bit hopped out of the truck and ran around to my side, but I was already climbing out. He dug through his pockets and came up with a decent amount of change. "Think this'll be enough?"

I counted the money. "Well, I suppose so. For what?"

"For bus fare, that's what."

"I think that's more than enough, then." Two-Bit grabbed my hand and tugged me along after him. I don't know what the hell had come over him, but he was suddenly bound and determined to get me home. "Do they even run this late?"

"Yeah, they do. I dunno how close we'll be able to get to your house, though."

We stood and waited for the bus, and when it came, Two-Bit shoved all the change at the driver – "Keep the change, pal." – and again grabbed my hand and dragged me to the very back. He glanced back at me once and shot me a big grin, and I just narrowed my eyes at him. And then we just sat there quietly, watching the night go by and the bus leave Two-Bit's truck behind. The sun had all but set, and it was weird, it being dark out there and all fluorescently lit inside the bus. Kind of gave Two-Bit a sickly glow, and for the first time that night, I realized what I had done:

I had broken up with Jerry Thompson

And I did all of it because of the guy sitting next to me on the bus. I had taken a shot in the dark, and it was hard to keep it together. It was real. The two of us sat in the back, staring straight ahead to the front of the bus. I felt Two-Bit's fingers graze against mine. I looked down at my hand, then up at him. He had a sheepish grin on his face, and I couldn't help but smile a little back.

I let him entwine his fingers in mine.

It was real. The two of us, together.

And that felt right.

Two-Bit pulled the cord once we had gotten to where we needed to get off. We stood up together, not letting go of our hands, and he gently pulled me down the aisle, like he wasn't able to trust that I could walk on my own. The two of us stepped off the bus, letting our feet hit the pavement. All the street lights were on.

I looked up at the sky, searching for stars.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing?" I asked, not looking at Two-Bit, just looking up. (Maybe that was why I hadn't been able to see what was in front of me the entire time.)

"'Course I do," Two-Bit said simply, adding, "and I'm very happy." I squeezed his hand, and then he looked up with me. "C'mon, Bee. I'll walk ya home."

As we walked the last few blocks to my house, I never let go of his hand. Two-Bit kept rubbing circles into mine, and as we stood on the porch, he continued to do so. I didn't want to go back inside. I didn't want to go home because once I did, once Two-Bit left, the adrenaline would wear off, and I would have to start thinking about tomorrow.

"Come inside." I didn't say it so much as a suggestion, but as a gentle request. I was bound and determined to make that evening last as long as I could.

Two-Bit raised an eyebrow and looked towards the door. "What would your old man say when he saw me?"

I bit the inside of my cheek. "Nothing yet. Because he won't see you."

"He won't?"

I shook my head. "Come with me."

I led Two-Bit around the side of the porch to the back of the house, leading us up the flight of stairs that led to my bedroom. "Shh," I cautioned. "Lemme listen for a sec." We both stood still, listening for my father, and I nervously twisted my curls around my finger as I listened.

The coast was clear. I crossed the room and flicked on the lights to reveal my pink bedroom. Two-Bit whistled low. "Holy moly, Miz Bee. You like pink, I take it?"

I blushed the same color as the room, which only made him laugh. "Is it a bit overkill?"

"Naw, it's fine. Kinda looks like Pepto Bismol, or maybe the lining of my stomach."

I laughed. So it was overkill – he was just being nice about it. "He's not home yet," I explained. "We should be in the clear for a while."

"Where is he?" Two-Bit asked, sitting down in the rocking chair and resting his arms on his thighs, examining the place.

My face fell. "He's on a date." I felt funny saying it aloud.

"I see. He got hisself a girl, huh?" I nodded. "Well. I guess that makes two of us, then."

I smirked and crossed the room again, so I was standing right in front of him. "About that, Two-Bit."

"About what?"

"About me being your girl."

Two-Bit stopped rocking. I was waiting for him to make the next move, to say something. Two-Bit ran his eyes up from my feet to my face, likely noticing every detail from the slight chip in my red nail polish to the single curl hanging in front of my forehead. "What about it?" he asked, all nonchalant.

I took a deep breath, and let it out long and slow. I had wanted it so bad. I did. But I was still scared of him saying it. Again – it made it all so real. "I'm glad you think so," I said softly, the hint of a smile on my lips. "I'm glad I'm your girl."

"I'm glad you are, too," Two-Bit said slowly, watching me carefully, maybe wondering if I would expand on that thought. When I just ducked my head shyly, Two-Bit stood up and started walking around the room, ending up in front of my shelves full of record albums. "You sure do got a lot of records..."

I watched him flick through my albums – various selections of The Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, Joan Baez, The Supremes, The Monkees, The Beach Boys, Peter, Paul, and Mary, and The Rolling Stones – among others – sat on the shelf and I'm not so sure Two-Bit approved of all of it. He gave me one of those looks, one that just screamed, If you thought I didn't understand you before, I sure as shit don't now. He picked up Rubber Soul and smiled.

"I shoulda guessed. How can you like a band with guys who cut their hair like that? You just got a crush on one of 'em, that's all that is"

I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes. He didn't need to know that was true – but it wasn't just a crush! My crush on Paul McCartney was just a bonus – the music is where my love really lies. "It's not my fault you have no taste. If you don't like them, who do you like?"

Two-Bit looked thoughtful and went back to flipping through my albums, searching, until he pulled out Dylan's Blonde on Blonde. He gave me one of his famous grins and said, "Bob's my guy. Don't get me wrong – Elvis is great and all, but give me Highway 61 Revisited any day of the week."

I was surprised, to say the least. I crossed the room and pulled out the album in question, and Two-Bit grinned as he flipped it over to read the track listing. "I wouldn't have guessed you were a Dylan fan."

"Oh, big time. Ever since Bringing It All Back Home. Then I got into his other stuff. I'm honestly a bit surprised you like him. Don't seem up your alley."

I shrugged. "I like a lot of stuff. And Dylan's great – my dad absolutely hates his voice," I laughed, and Two-Bit shook his head.

"Some people just don't get it, I guess," he mumbled, going back to Blonde on Blonde.

Two-Bit pulled out the record and put it on my turntable, and then we got quiet for a while, just listening to it. I fell back on my bed, and Two-Bit sat on the window seat. We had never sat so quietly together, never went so long without saying anything to each other, but it felt right to sit in my pink room and listen to an album we both loved, and to let it do the talking.

When "Visions of Johanna" started playing, Two-Bit stood over me and offered his hand. I looked at him curiously, but then I grabbed his hand, neither of us saying a word, and I let Two-Bit pull me up and to him. I smiled up at him because I was on to him, but I relaxed into his chest, and then we were just slowly moving back and forth, Two-Bit's hand running through my hair like it always seemed to want to do.

"Do you really think you love me, Two-Bit?"

"Yeah. At least, I think I do."

"I think I do, too."

And then I heard the front door open.

I suddenly jerked away from Two-Bit and whipped my head towards the door. "Turn it off," I hissed, moving into action. Two-Bit pulled the needle off the record and stashed it. "Shit, shit, shit," I mumbled, swearing more in one sentence than I usually ever dared to.

"Bridget? Are you home?"

Oh, shit. "Yes, Daddy!" I turned back to Two-Bit, hands over my heart. "You gotta get the hell outta here."

He sure did. "Don't worry, kid. I'm cool with the whole disappearing thing." Two-Bit started to head for the porch door, but my hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Wait," I said. "Two-Bit, wait."

"What?"

I could hear my father coming up the stairs. "Promise me you'll come back," I whispered. "Promise you'll come back, Two-Bit."

"Yeah, Bee. Promise. Uh…Bridget?"

"Yeah?"

My eyes were wide, like I was trying to see into his soul, waiting with bated breath to hear what he had to say.

Two-Bit took a deep breath – fuck it, then.

"The name's Keith."

xXx

At school on Monday, Two-Bit walked into class, took one look at my face, and groaned – he knew exactly what I was about to say.

"Keith? Keith Mathews? That's your real name? Ha!"

"Yeah, and ya know what? Your initials stand for bullshit, which is exactly what you're full of."

"Oh, I don't mean it. It's a good name. I'm sorry, Keith."

"I hate you."

"No you don't. You love me!"

Thanks for reading!