"It wasn't anything she could fight. She could only ache and wait. Maybe it was some big tease and when He saw it had gone far enough He'd give her a sign. She looked hard for something up there to move for a sign. A star in the daytime, maybe, or the sun to shout, or even a mutter of thunder. Her arms went up in a desperate supplication for a minute. It wasn't exactly pleading, it was asking questions. The sky stayed hard looking and quiet so she went inside the house. God would do less than He had in His heart." – Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God

Alright…Shampoo, conditioner, nail polish, top coat, emory boards, foundation, paper towels…Ella went through the list Evie had given her as she and her friend made their way through the aisles of the grocery store Ella worked at. Ella knew for a fact they had all those things on the future beautician's long list, but…it really felt like a lot now that they were actually buying it. Evie's cart was already loaded up with supplies, and there was still more. Ella didn't really mind the process, though; sure, someone like Evie probably had more glamorous ways to spend her time, but there was a nice sort of rhythm to the whole thing as they wound their way through the store, which had grown quiet in the evening hours.

"Do you think we'll have enough?"

"Enough what?"

"Enough to pay for everything."

Evie snorted. "I think we'll have more than enough," she said as she grabbed cans of hairspray off the shelves. "Stevens was…more than generous," she reluctantly admitted.

"Did she say to you what her father said when he found out what the money was for?" Ella imagined that a little over a hundred dollars wouldn't exactly make a dent in the Stevens' savings like it would in hers, but still, a hundred dollars is a hundred dollars. And what would Dr. Stevens say when he found out all of that was going towards beauty products in preparation for one homecoming dance? Did rich people worry about things like that?

"I don't think she told 'im."

Evie felt a bit guilty then, and so did Ella, but Evie was able to quickly move on, justifying it by telling herself that Bridget had offered the money, offered her home, and that this was going to be just great. Ella, however, felt that there was a tiny part of them that was taking advantage of her new friend, and that maybe Evie was motivated a little bit by revenge. Just a little. But she kept those thoughts to herself.

"We need plenty of colors of nail polish. We shoulda asked those girls what color dresses they're wearing…" Evie mused. Then she cut her eyes to Ella. "What color is your dress?"

"Black. It's not new, but it's nice enough, and not in too bad a shape, so I'm just going to hem it."

Evie narrowed her eyes. "Black? Well, I mean, if you want to look like you're going to a funeral…" At Ella's slight scowl, Evie quickly added, "But I'd like to see it. Maybe turn it from just a black dress to a little black dress," she purred, throwing her friend a wink. "Bryant won't be able to keep his hands off ya."

Ella rolled her eyes. She was sure Evie would come up with something, and maybe not even a bad something. But Ella, as grateful as she was, was sick of feeling like some sort of experiment. "Alright," she shrugged. "What color is yours?"

"Green," Evie said, with gusto.

The color of envy.

XXXXX

"Well, well. If it ain't the queen of 'em all. How ya doin', Vick?"

Vickie stopped dead in her tracks. She knew that voice. She slowly turned around, and sure enough, smiling to beat the band, there was Two-Bit Mathews. There had been an animosity between these two since junior high school. Both could remember being locked into a closet in someone's basement together for seven minutes. To Two-Bit, Vickie Harper had been a girl that had caught his eye, but he knew – or had learned very quickly – what sort of person she was. To Vickie, Two-Bit Mathews was just some boy from the other side of town that was friends with Darrel Curtis, and that seemed to be where he got all his popularity from. He'd grown up good-looking, and Vickie had followed along on her Miss Oklahoma trajectory, but that didn't mean shit.

"And if it isn't Tulsa's answer to Bob Newhart," she shot back, voice sugary sweet and dripping with sarcasm. Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow.

"Taller than he is," he clarified, "but fair enough."

Vickie sighed. They seemed to be the only two people in this parking lot this morning. "What could you possibly want from me, Two-Bit Mathews?"

There were plenty of people at Will Rogers High School that were afraid of Vickie Harper. Terrified of her, even. Two-Bit couldn't be bothered. He'd known her too long, and he could see right through her. Funny thing, since they didn't exactly know each other all that well, but that's what happens when you grow up, in a sense, together. Same experiences, same teachers, same memories. It's just what happens. So they didn't really know each other, but they knew enough, and that was enough for Two-Bit.

"Harper, you are stickin' your nose into somethin' ya shouldn't," he said slowly.

"What does that mean?" She knew exactly what that meant.

"It means that I saw the nominations, Vickie. You know that I'm able to see 'em. And I get the strange feelin' that you got somethin' to do with Evie Martin's name havin' got entered."

Vickie couldn't help but feel a bit proud that she was being credited with the work. It had been simple, really. As one of the top members on the homecoming committee, she'd been able to get easy access to the box holding the names for nominations. Wasn't like the thing was under lock and key. So she'd gotten Evie on the list. Done and done. And come Friday, Vickie was certain that Miss Evelyn Martin would be one of the nominees for homecoming queen. She was sure of it.

"And what would make you think that?" She asked, playing coy. Two-Bit chuckled.

"I know you, Vickie. I know you well enough. And I can't imagine for one second that yer not chompin' at the bit to take responsibility for this." It was impressive, Vickie had to admit, that Two-Bit could keep that dumb smirk on his face the entire time he spoke.

"Well, what's the problem, huh? What's the big deal? It's just – "

"It's not just homecoming to you, I know it's not. You've got some reason for this." But now the grin was gone, and he was standing right in front of her, towering over her, seeming to get more and more frustrated by the moment. "And I don't know what the fuck that reason might be, but I don't like this, I don't like this one bit!"

"And why might that be?" Vickie followed up quickly. "Why should you care? Evie's not your girlfriend, and whatever is going on between her and me is our business. And who's to say she'll have to do any more than stand up there in front of the student body and probably lose. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is – "

"Oh, hold on a moment." Vickie held up a finger. "I know. This has nothing to do with Evie. This has everything to do with my good friend Bridget Stevens." When Two-Bit didn't say anything right away, Vickie smiled. "A-ha. I knew it." She tipped her finger towards his face. "But why?"

"Vickie, you shouldn't do this – "

"Why?"

Two-Bit sighed. He knew he was right – Vickie needed to drop this shit as soon as possible. He still wasn't quite clear on why she was doing this. But he also knew Vickie was right; the more he saw her bossing Bee Stevens around (whose name he'd also seen on the list), the more the whole situation became that much more personal, for reasons he still couldn't quite explain or understand. (Or acknowledge. Or even want to acknowledge.)

"I don't know why you're doing this," he began in a low voice, "and I plan to find out, but in the meantime, I'm gettin' sick and tired of watchin' you push her around. She's not yer maid, she's not yer cronie, she thinks you're her friend – "

"I am!"

"…but you still treat her like a tool. Vickie, she ain't built to be like you."

"How would you know?"

"Because I know," he said, sounding dangerous enough to make Vickie back up a step. But then he faltered. He could never stay mad at girl very long, unless that girl was Kathy. "She's…she's…meek," he finished lamely, stuffing his fists in his pockets.

He hadn't even denied that Vickie was right. My god, she had him right where she wanted him! And how adorable – Two-Bit Mathews caring for her friend. Or, pretending to, for whatever reason. But he was right about that, her being meek. Vickie could admit it. Bridget was easy to boss around, and the girl supposed she could admit to being guilty of that, too. But it wasn't as if Bridget was trying to put a stop to it or anything. Why refuse free labor? "Well, you know what they say about the meek…"

"'Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth,'" Two-Bit recited, with a voice not unlike that of the most genteel of preachers, then smugly added, "Matthew five-five."

Vickie narrowed her eyes. "You expect me to believe someone like you is a man of God?" She asked, and Two-Bit didn't miss her underlying tone of disbelief.

"No," he shrugged. "Not the least bit. That ain't even a hard one, anyways. Point is, Harper, that your tooling around ain't gonna end well for ya. In fact, you've prolly fucked yourself over well enough already."

Vickie took a step closer. "Oh? And what makes you say that?"

Two-Bit met her halfway. To think there was a point in his life when he looked at this bitch and thought she was even the least bit pretty. Because those ugly insides…they start to show. "I know a lot that you don't," he whispered, baiting her. "Just know that. And know for as much as you're willin' to play dirty, for as far as you're willin' to go, I'm willin' to take it ten steps further. Back off of Evie, ya hear?"

Vickie was practically snarling at him by this point. Good. He had her exactly where he wanted her. "You" – she stuck a finger in his face, almost at a loss for words – "Just…stay away from Bridget Stevens."

"Bridget Stevens?" Two-Bit repeated. "Oh, you mean Bee Stevens," he grinned. "And why should I?"

"Because I said so."

"Oh? Well, ya know what they say…" Two-Bit turned to leave, calling over his shoulder, "'The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps!'"

XXXXX

George Clayton, Jerry Thompson, Randy Adderson, Craig Bryant, and Kevin Rogers. Sherri Valance, Lucille Drysdale, Vickie Harper, Bridget Stevens, and Evelyn Martin. Two-Bit shook his head; what kind of hellish mess had not only he gotten himself into, but shit, the rest of them? He and Dallas and Evie and Steve…and even Bridget. Jesus Christ, what had Vickie Harper done?

"Hell of a way to spend a lunch hour," Dallas grumbled. He was dumping out all the old nomination slips into the trash. Two-Bit had been charged with counting everything up, and now that particular job was done and the top five for king and queen had been tabulated, they were pretty much done with their duties. For now.

"Do you know Vickie Harper?" Two-Bit asked. Dallas raised his eyebrows.

"Who?"

"Vickie Harper. She's one'a the nominees, and a class-A bitch, with a capital-B." When that still didn't seem to ring a bell for him, Two-Bit went on. "Ya know, blonde, super socy."

"That's a lot of 'em, man."

Two-Bit sighed. "Welp. Anyways, I'm pretty sure she's the reason Evie's on this list."

Dallas rolled his eyes. Who fucking cared? Homecoming was stupid. Mrs. Girdlé was stupid. Being on the homecoming design committee was stupid. Dallas was stuck setting up the dance Friday night, and what sorta guy spends their Friday nights doing something as fuckin' stupid as that? Guys like Dallas lived for Friday nights. Mathews was lucky – ever since that joker had joined him in this escapade, all they'd used him for was ballot counting and manual labor, none of that girly shit Dallas had gotten stuck doing.

"What's the big deal? Evie goes up there, won't get her name called, goes back to Randle. Big fuckin' whoop. That ain't nothin' to get all worked up over."

Two-Bit wanted to point out that Dallas had gotten worked up over plenty of things a lot more petty than this, but he liked to keep his head attached to his ass, thanks very much. He also didn't tell him that it wasn't so much Evie he was worried about. Sure, she was Steve's girl, and Steve was a buddy, and Evie was perfectly fine and all, but what Two-Bit was more concerned about was how Vickie was toying with everybody, especially the raven-haired girl who sat in front of him in history class. And if Dallas found out about him being interested in Bee Stevens…well…again, he'd like to keep his head. Thanks very much.

"Ya know," Two-Bit tried again, switching tactics, "George Clayton is nominated for king."

That got Dallas's attention. But he made sure not to show it at first. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," Two-Bit said. "He was friends with Bob Sheldon."

Dallas shut his eyes tight, glad he was facing the wall so Two-Bit couldn't see him. Any mention of Bob Sheldon, or Randy Adderson or Cherry Valance or whatever, instantly brought Johnny to mind. And the longer he dwelled on Johnny, how he was six feet under and rotting away and getting eaten up by the worms, the worse he felt. "George Clayton, huh? Ain't he that asshole who – "

"Uh-huh. God, that fish-faced guy got nominated, too! What the hell?"

Dallas turned around. "You think he'd win?"

Two-Bit shrugged distractedly, but he knew he had Dallas right where he wanted him. "Who? Bryant?"

"No, Clayton."

"Oh! Well, I don't know, Dally. He might. He and Vickie, I don't think they're datin', but they're…they're tight. Think they're plannin' to sweep the thing. They ran a stupid little campaign together."

Dallas was never afraid of giving it right back. And while this couldn't, not in a million years, make up for what happened to Johnny, fucking him over with this stupid homecoming shit was his next best option that wouldn't land him in jail. "That so? We've got about a week, right?"

"Thereabouts."

Dallas walked over to the ballot box and grabbed the list of the five nominees for king and queen. George Clayton, right at the top. And Vickie Harper. "Mathews, I don't care who else gets it, but let's make sure Clayton don't win."

Two-Bit smirked. There it was. Right after voting ended, they'd take their names out. Let fate decide – sort of. "Sure thing, Dal. Long as Vickie Harper don't either."

XXXXX

Cherry, Missy, and Bridget sat together, listening intently to the afternoon announcements. Nobody cared about what clubs were cancelled! Get to the good stuff!

"This is killing me," Missy said. "I mean, I ain't gonna get nominated, but…"

"If Vickie doesn't get nominated…" Cherry sort-of finished, and all three girls looked at each other. Collectively sighed – if Vickie didn't get nominated, somehow, then there would be hell to pay.

In his drone, Principal Vernon continued, announcing "…Nominees for the homecoming court is as follows" – the girls perked up – "For king, we have George Clayton, Jerry Thompson, Randy Adderson, Craig Bryant, and Kevin Rogers." The girls all looked at each other briefly, silently communicating that those names were to be expected. But there were bigger fish. "For queen, we have Sherri Valance, Lucille Drysdale, Vickie Harper, Bridget Stevens, and Evelyn Martin. Starting Monday – "

"Oh, goodness," Cherry sighed. Missy raised her eyebrows.

"What's wrong? You got nominated!" She turned and grinned at Bridget. "And so did you and Vickie! Everything's great!"

In a manner of speaking, yes, everything was absolutely spectacular. Missy looked at the world through rose-colored glasses; she sometimes couldn't see the trouble that was brewing. Cherry and Bridget, however, knew exactly the trouble. Or, they had their suspicions. Girls like Evie…they didn't just get nominated out of nowhere, and it certainly wasn't something that happened on the regular.

"You're right," Cherry said, smiling. "Everything's…great!" She shrugged, and the girls all went on pretending that everything was, indeed, 'great.'

However, Bridget knew things were far from it. As she walked to the library, where she'd asked Cathy to meet her after the final bell, she knew two things for certain: One was that she was sure Vickie had something to do with Evie being on the homecoming court, and a nominee for queen; the other was that she'd been nominated for homecoming queen. She'd…she would not only get to cheer at the game, but be in the parade, waving from a convertible in her dress as they rode around the football field, Jerry sitting next to her in his football uniform at halftime. They'd look like a picture-perfect couple. And what if they won! That would be exciting, but Vickie probably wouldn't be too pleased.

Vickie probably also wouldn't be too pleased if her (suspected) plan backfired.

When Bridget got to the library, she found Cathy already sitting at one of the tables, working on an art project of sorts. Bridget smiled and confidently made her way over to her, quietly asking, "What'cha working on?"

Cathy didn't even startle. "Something for art class. Actually, it's a nonrepresentational portrait of Ella. What do you think?"

Bridget gave it a once-over. It looked to be a weeping willow tree. "Lovely," she proclaimed. "We're doing a similar project in my art class. I'm not much of an artist, but I'm alright with calligraphy and picking out color schemes, so. Yeah. Yours is really nice, though."

Cathy seemed to appreciate the compliment. "Hey – in your art class, are you studying Georgia O'Keefe?"

Bridget narrowed her eyebrows. "No. Why?"

"Well…" Cathy was blushing. "It's just…well – "

"I know who she is, though. Her work is fairly…suggestive."

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

Bridget allowed herself to laugh. "Well, uh, I've heard my dad talk about her art with one of his colleagues before. The man was some sort of art history professor, and I sort of…eavesdropped," she admitted.

"Oh. Your father is a history professor?" Bridget nodded. "That's, like, actually interesting," Cathy laughed. "My father just sells insurance."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"No! Of course not. It's just…well, being in your house the other day was kinda like being in this library," Cathy said, gesturing to the room.

Cathy had been impressed with the whole experience, but the best part, for her at least, was the fact that every room had bookshelves. Like, on every wall. She assumed most of those belonged to Dr. Stevens, but there were plenty in Bridget's room; classics like Watership Down, Anne of Green Gables, Candide, Pride and Prejudice, Emma, Wuthering Heights…it really was like being in a mini library. Cathy would love something like that in her house, but the Carlsons simply didn't have the space. Bridget had said some of the books had been gifts, some she'd picked out on her own, or her father had read them to her when she was little and she liked them so much, she'd reread them, even if they were more for younger girls. Simply for the story.

"You said the other day that your favorite book is Little Women?"

Bridget nodded. "Yeah, it is. I think I like it because I like the idea of having sisters, you know? I don't have any siblings or anything. I have cousins, but they all live out in New York, and I'm here now, so…well, I guess I could just get lost in it. And it's just a good book, regardless of my baggage," Bridget tried to joke, but Cathy just gave her a sympathetic look. "Have you read it?"

Cathy shook her head. "Haven't found the time yet," she sighed. "It's a long one. But I have seen the movie, the one with Elizabeth Taylor. So I know what happens."

"That shouldn't spoil the book for you. There's a lot they don't cover in the movie. Lots of little things."

Cathy nodded slowly. She supposed she could see where Bridget was coming from. She was an only child, and probably pretty lonely at times since her father worked. Cathy couldn't relate, however; she had six siblings, and as great as they were (in theory), they could still be royal pains in the ass. But then a different sort of thought struck her. "Who do you think each of us would be?"

Bridget raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? Who is 'us'?"

"You know," Cathy shrugged, "you, me, Evie, and Ella. Which sisters are we?"

Bridget really looked surprised that Cathy had asked that for some reason. But then she thought about it; Ella, with her shy countenance and simple way of dressing was definitely poor Beth; Evie, in turn, with her brash attitude and no-nonsense way of speaking was certainly Jo; the other two were a bit harder to place. Cathy had all the motherly airs of Meg, but none of her experience, and the ambition of Amy. However, she didn't seem bratty, like Amy was at times. Bridget herself was older and desired to have a comfortable living, like Meg did, and was certainly concerned with appearance, but she could see herself as Amy too, with her art and – she reluctantly admitted – brattiness. But was Bridget really that ill-mannered?

"Evie is Jo, and Ella is Beth," Bridget said with certainty, "but I don't know if I'm Meg and you're Amy, or the other way around. What do you think?"

Cathy had to think about it for a moment. Her first thought was that Bridget had to be an Amy, because she was probably a little bit spoiled, and more aristocratic. And Cathy did have that oldest sibling gene…but there was something that caused her pause. Bridget was much more modest, like Meg was, and older than Cathy (even if only by a little), and she didn't seem to necessarily want to be spoiled, but…hmph. "I don't know, either," she said. "I think I need more time to think about it." She really thought that they still needed to get to know each other better, too.

"Fair enough."

The silence settled back between them. "So what was it you wanted to meet about?" Cathy asked.

Bridget was about to answer, but it was at that moment that Cathy spotted Ponyboy Curtis. Bridget did, too, and she shot a smile over her shoulder at Cathy, and a suggestive one at that. The older girl stood and waved Ponyboy over to their table, and Cathy's stomach started doing somersaults. When Pony smiled at her, she just about exploded.

Bridget stood beside Pony and began, "Cathy, I'd like you to meet – "

"We've met," the younger duo said in unison, and they both laughed. Bridget felt herself blush. Well, this had become something of a comedy of errors, hadn't it?

That morning, Bridget had told Ponyboy in art class that there was someone she knew who she thought he should ask to the homecoming dance. They were both roughly the same age, and from what the older girl knew about the two of them, seemed to have plenty in common and would make a perfect couple for homecoming – maybe for longer, even. She wouldn't reveal who, and she insisted that he do it, and meet her in the library right after afternoon announcements. But now he was here, and he was face-to-face with Cathy again. This was the girl Bridget Stevens wanted him to ask to homecoming?

Well, he couldn't exactly say he minded.

"I didn't know you two had already been introduced," Bridget said, smiling nervously. Just a bit nervously. "You've already done half the work for me!" Cathy laughed a little. Ponyboy couldn't take his eyes off her. Bridget smiled to herself – just where she needed them to be. "Well," she sighed happily, winking at Cathy – the go-ahead, it seemed. "I'll leave you two to it."

XXXXX

The end of the day found Steve leaning against his car, smoking a cigarette and watching as his girlfriend made her way through the parking lot and over to him. Here's the thing: he knew she had nerve. And he liked it about her – he liked it a lot. He knew she was brave.

Which is why this whole homecoming situation worried him so much.

"What's up?" Evie asked. He was mad, but he had to admit, her rack looked great in the top she was wearing.

"Whaddya mean, what's up?"

"You got that look on your face," she said as she loaded her books into the backseat of the car. "You know, the one that just screams that you're pissed off about something."

"Is it that obvious?"

Evie laughed. "You kiddin' me? 'Course it's obvious. Now, what's up?"

Steve sighed. "I think you know what's up, Eve."

Right. That. Evie had been sitting in seventh period, just a few minutes ago, buffing her nails and barely paying attention to anything going on around her when she heard the announcement. As fun as school dances could be, she couldn't care less about the homecoming court. Until, of course, she learned that she was somehow on said homecoming court, which meant that she had a chance to become homecoming queen. And if that happened, she'd have to share a dance with one of those stupid soc boys, and then what would Steve think?

Then, of course, there was the question of how she'd managed to get on the homecoming court in the first place. And the answer seemed obvious to her.

"It's just stupid homecoming. It's nothing."

"Wasn't nothin' when you were beggin' me to take ya a while back," Steve snapped. "How the hell did this happen?"

"I don't know! I don't know, Steve!" At her boyfriend's surprised expression, Evie dialed it back. "It's prolly just some sick joke."

"Exactly! And that doesn't piss you off?"

Of course it pissed her off. It pissed her off for multiple reasons. For starters, she knew there was no way she had gotten the nomination on her own merit. She hadn't campaigned to get on the list to be nominated, hadn't shown any interest, but here she was, and she had the sick feeling that a certain blonde-haired bitch had something to do with it. That much seemed obvious, at least, for the moment. And now, she was gonna have to stand up there, in front of God and everybody, and she was gonna have to sit in one of those convertibles and ride in the parade and ride around the football field at halftime with some lug sitting beside her, and everybody would be looking at her, wondering why the hell she was there and how the hell she'd gotten nominated for this thing, and it was going to flat-out suck.

"Look," Evie sighed as they got in Steve's car, "yeah, it's weird, and if what I think happened did happen, then yeah, I'm really fuckin' pissed off. But I don't know anything yet, okay? I don't know what's goin' on, so don't ask me. All I know is that I'm nominated for this stupid thing, and that's that. Capische?"

Steve capisched. But he was still fucking pissed about it. And then he remembered that Two-Bit and Dally had gotten stuck on that stupid homecoming committee, and he figured he owed them a visit.

XXXXX

The little drugstore that Bridget had come to frequent was awfully quiet. The only people there were her, the druggist, and the soda jerk behind the counter. The druggist, Mr. Connors, smiled at her and said a quiet, "'Lo, Miz Stevens," when she came in, and Bridget gave him her best smile, the best she could muster at the moment. It had been a strange day; first, Jimmy Hopper hadn't been in class, and when she'd asked Two-Bit if he knew where he was, he just gave her vague answers. Then, she had found out she'd been nominated for homecoming queen, which was a nice surprise, sure, but Vickie hadn't seemed that impressed. Bridget had called her up when she'd gotten home, hoping maybe Vickie might be at least a little happy for her and Cherry.

"It's sorta funny, isn't it? The three of us being nominated," Bridget had said.

"I guess," Vickie had said unenthusiastically. Bridget could imagine her examining her nails on the other end of the line, instead of focusing on the conversation.

"And Evie Martin, too," Bridget added, trying to sound casual.

"Shocking," Vickie sighed. "Some joker probably nominated her. What a crock."

Bridget bit her lip. She felt kinda bad for Evie, hoping no one would make fun of her when she got up on stage. Evie was pretty, and could be nice when she wanted to be... "Well. Congrats," Bridget sighed.

"Thanks," Vickie said, and hung up.

"Hey there, Honey Bee!"

Bridget whirled around and found herself face-to-face with Two-Bit's flannel-covered chest, and she smacked at it in frustration. It was wrong that she even knew that it was him without even having to see his face.

"Woah, there!" He laughed. "What's up with you? What's the rush? I just got here!"

Bridget scowled up at him. "You're in my way," she grit out. "I have somewhere to be."

"Oh?" He asked. "And where might that somewhere be?"

Bridget rolled her eyes. "I don't have to tell you. Look – I have a ton of stuff to do for homecoming, okay? And I have homework and – "

"If you've got all that stuff to be doin', then what're you doin' out here?"

The girl stopped mid-sentence with her mouth hanging open. True, the strawberry milkshakes at this particular drugstore had become something of a weakness for her, but she had also just wanted to get away from everything for a while. "Touché," she sighed, and Two-Bit smirked.

"Here – I'll join ya." He took her by the shoulder and led her to a booth, ordered her the milkshake she'd come for. Then Two-Bit folded his hands and placed them on the aqua blue Formica tabletop. "Ya know," he began, "ya don't have to do this to yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you didn't have to say yes to bein' Vickie's campaign manager and run around like a chicken with its head cut off for her. 'Sides – you should be worried about winnin' yerself."

Bridget raised an eyebrow. "Me? I don't care if I win," she grumbled. "I don't even want to win!"

"You sure? You sure you ain't just sayin' that cuz you're scared of what Vickie would do if you did?"

There it was. Two-Bit had hit the nail on the head, but, Bridget thought to herself as she played with her straw, I wish he wasn't right about me all the time. "You know me all too well, Two-Bit Mathews," she tried to kid. But Two-Bit had the audacity to nod!

"Sure I do," he shrugged. "I mean, I'm your friend, ain't I?"

Now she was really surprised. Was he? She didn't know. "Um. Are you?" She asked. Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow.

"Well, sure I am," he said. "I mean, I'd say we've got all the hallmarks of a friendship here. We talk every. Damn. Day. We spend time together outside of school – "

"Not intentionally," Bridget tried.

"Nice try," Two-Bit grinned, "but I'm afraid friends is exactly what we are, Honey Bee. And as your friend, I feel like I should be lettin' you know that Vickie Harper ain't a good one."

Now she was offended. "Oh, yeah?" Bridget crossed her arms and scowled. "How so?"

Two-Bit leaned forward on his forearms, and Bridget met him halfway. "If you're afraid of what she'd do if you win instead of her, then she ain't your friend. She's just a bitch."

"'Bitch' isn't a very nice word."

"Don't matter. It's the truth. Friends don't treat each other like that."

"What would you know?" Bridget grumbled. "You're friends with that hoodlum Dallas Winston."

Two-Bit laughed. "Oh, honey. Dallas Winston may not be the best of guys, but he's a good buddy, and I'mma stick by 'im. You don't know the hell he's been through, kid. Not sayin' that justifies anything, but Dallas has seen the nasty side of this world. Vickie is the way she is cuz she was born that way."

"And Dallas wasn't born mean?"

"Oh, I dunno. But I know he's got his reasons. Vickie ain't got no reasons. She's just mean to be mean. And as your friend," Two-Bit drew out the word, "it is my sacred duty to let you know that I don't like seein' the way she treats ya."

Bridget pursed her lips and glanced down at the tabletop. She got this strange feeling in her chest when he said he was her friend. All warm and fluttery. "If you're really my friend, why did Jimmy Hopper shout in front of God and everybody that you hate me?" She asked, her voice cracking at the end. God, she'd better not cry…Two-Bit sat back and sighed. Before he could say anything, Bridget also asked, "And why didn't you stand up for me? If I'm really your friend, why didn't…why didn't you…"

"Bee, honey," Two-Bit sighed, "please don't cry."

She sniffed. "And why not?"

"Because if you stop cryin', I'll take ya to a movie."

Bridget's head snapped up. "You'll what?"

"You heard me!" Two-Bit laughed. "C'mon, you're depressin' me, and I'm sorry about this whole mess…I really am, Bridget."

Bridget didn't miss the sincerity in his voice, plus the fact that he'd used her actual name to address her, and not one of his multitudes of stupid pet names. There was a little voice in her head that was telling her that if anyone saw them together, it could be bad news. People could get the wrong idea. But a bigger part of her just wanted to see a movie. And Two-Bit wasn't horrible company.

"Which movie?" She asked quietly.

"Huh? Ain't you gonna thank me for my apology?" The look on Bridget's face told him that wasn't the thing to say. "Uh – sorry. Again. C'mon – come see The Great Race with me. You seen it yet?"

"I know that song from it."

Two-Bit snorted. "The one about the tree?"

"The Sweetheart Tree, yes," she said, playing at being exasperated. "But no, I haven't seen it."

"Then come see it with me."

"Why should I?"

Two-Bit leaned back in. He needed to stop smiling like that, or she'd kiss him. She really would.

"Because friends take their friends to movies. And I'm yer friend, Bee Stevens, whether ya like it or not."

XXXXX

AN: The movie The Great Race and the song written for it, "The Sweetheart Tree" by Henry Mancini came out in the fall of 1965 – right in our timeline!

"The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps" is from Proverbs, 16:9. Two-Bit is essentially saying that what's done is done, and out of their hands…

Thanks for reading :)