Stumble

Chapter Three

Disclaimer - I do not own the Outsiders. Or Diary of Jane by Breaking Benjamin.

– Something's just about to break –

I pulled my jacket tighter around me as I made my way down the street. The guy I'd heard earlier had said 'Merrill's'. I could only assume that he had meant Buck Merrill, a local cowboy who was always throwing parties.

As I neared the house I knew that I had been right in my assumption. There was pounding music coming from someplace nearby and I could practically smell the alcohol in the air.

My pace quickened as my destination came into view. All I wanted was to get drunk out of my mind and maybe have one night of peace.

As I entered the house I realized that I would find no peace here. In fact, I would find just the opposite. It was still early, but there were already drunks and a bar-room brawl. I managed to manoeuver my way through the crowd with great difficulty. Being invisible isn't easy.

I made my way into the kitchen. There was a fridge and quite a few coolers which I could only assume were full of beer. I opened the lid of the cooler nearest me and grabbed a bottle. Coors. Good enough for me.

I went back into the living room and looked around. There were people dancing, a poker game going on, and, creepily enough, some blonde girl sitting in the corner of the room giving a disgusted look to a tall red-haired boy with sideburns and the girl he was dancing with. They both seemed oblivious to her watchful eyes.

As I watched the scene unfold before me a shadow cast itself over me. I looked up into the eyes of Buck Merrill himself.

I stared at him, waiting for him to justify his presence here next to me. "You gonna pay for that?" he grumbled.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"You gonna pay for that?" he repeated, more forcefully this time.

It took me a minute to realize that he was referring to the beer in my hand. "I thought drinks were free," I answered, dumbly.

"Only to people I know," he informed me. "Who the hell are you?"

"I don't have any money," I told him.

Anger flashed on his face and his eyes raked themselves over my body. He smirked slightly. "There's other ways you can pay for it," he said, staring at my chest.

I was too shocked to answer him. No guy had ever really spoken to me before, and now suddenly one wanted to sleep with me?

"Leave 'er alone, Buck," a voice brought me out of my daze. I turned to see a boy with platinum blonde hair and blue eyes standing behind me. I turned back to Buck to see what his response would be. Surprisingly, he didn't object, but just stalked off.

I shouldn't be here. I put my Coors down on a nearby table and began heading for the door when an arm caught me and turned me back around.

"Aint'cha gonna tell me yer name?" it was the blonde boy from before.

"Why do you care?" I asked.

"I just saved you," he said with a slight laugh. "I think I deserve to know yer name."

"Morgan," I sighed and turned to leave again. But, again, he caught me.

"Aint'cha gonna ask for mine?" he questioned.

"You gonna give me a choice?" I said, sounding bored.

"What's yer problem?" he snapped, suddenly getting angry.

"Sorry, but I don't take too kindly to guys who're only looking to score," I shot back at him.

"Who said that's all I want?" he looked confused.

"Your eyes," I answered him truthfully.

He released my arm and it fell limply to my side. "You know what?" he said quietly. "You ain't even worth it."

"People been tellin' me that my whole life," I mumbled to myself as he walked away from me.

I left the party and began to walk back in the direction of my house. A black Mustang was circling the block I was on, it slowed a bit as it passed me every time. This is not what I need right now, I thought to myself.

After a few more laps of the block, the car pulled up next to me. "Hey grease," one of them howled, and the rest of them started cat-calling. I just kept walking, doing my best to ignore them. The car stopped and they got out. "Where you goin'?" one of them called out to me.

I was about to pick up my pace and make a run for it when one of them grabbed my wrist. This was just not my night. He turned me around to face him. "No need to be rude, honey," he smirked.

"Let 'er go," a voice called out. The boy holding my wrist turned, but him and all his friends obstructed my view of my would-be hero.

"And what're you gonna do if I don't?" the boy called back, disbelievingly.

"You don't wanna know," the voice warned.

The boy holding me seemed pretty reckless, his friends, though, were casting each other uneasy glances. "Let's just get outta here," one of them suggested.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Hold her." He pushed me towards his friend and starting pushing up his sleeves as he walked towards the source of the voice.

"Man, gettin' my ass kicked ain' my idea o'fun," one friend whispered to another.

"Yeah, let's get outta here," was the reply and general consensus. I was pushed to the ground before the boys left, dragging their leader with them.

I looked up to see who it was that had saved me. The blonde haired boy. God, he saves me twice in one night. He must be desperate for some action.

"So, who are you?" I finally asked. "And why were they scared o'you?"

He grinned down at me, wickedly. "I'm the one your mama warned ya about."