Chapter four.
Please R&R.
I do not own The Outsiders.
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The moment the tiny hand of the clock flickered to four PM, Steve checked out of the DX. He brought himself home alone—Soda had left without him, which was unusual but understandable—and dressed himself properly for the date. He only wanted his hair greased up, not his clothing and skin, too.
It didn't take very long for Steve to ready himself. Sure, he cleaned up a bit—but not real well. Great—Lord, he'd just gotten his courage back and Soda had crushed it just by smoking a cigarette.
Dammit, Soda, I'd bash your pretty-boy face in if you weren't my best friend, he grumbled to himself, flattening the back of his hair as he peered into the crooked mirror. He didn't mean it, though. He was just—again—downright pissed. He'd been feeling that way a lot lately.
Once Steve was acceptably freshened up, he left his home, fists shoved into his pockets the entire way to the Dingo. It shocked him, but he was actually wishing that Soda was beside him, sharing this night with him as a double-date. He was regretting yelling at his best friend—he and Soda had never had a serious argument before. Small things applied—they bickered over poker games when Soda decided that Steve had cheated; and sometimes Soda felt a little bit of unease towards Steve's roguish behavior, but other than that, they never fought. That's the way it had always been—until this previous afternoon.
Steve stopped at the lamppost beside the Dingo and stared at the front door. There was Lisa, right on time, pacing back and forth in front of the glass doors. She was all dolled up, her bronze hair pinned back, framing her face like a halo. She looked real nice.
"Lisa!" he called, and his pretty-looking date turned to face him, smiling.
"Hey, Steve," she replied, heels clicking as she ambled over to him. Steve relished the moments he was gazing at her, grinning. She sure looked great with her hair pulled back like that.
"Shall we?" Lisa offered, walking beside her date. Steve chuckled and nodded his head, holding the bulky door open for Lisa with his hand uncovered by his pocket. Lisa smirked gracefully at his gesture, entering the Dingo as he urged her on.
Steve blushed as he entered. The Dingo wasn't the most respectable place to take a girl, and even he liked to take girls to a decent place on the first date. But Lisa didn't seem to mind, despite her classiness. She grinned and led Steve to the nearest booth, and he took a seat across from her on the velvety red cushion (although it was torn in several places).
"So…tell me…" Lisa said, beginning a conversation. Steve looked up, perking his eyes in Lisa's direction as he removed his fists from his jeans.
"Tell you what?" he insisted, and Lisa went on.
"Your best friend, Sodapop…" she said, and Steve's throat contracted, tightening uncomfortably. Lisa hesitated, noticing Steve's expression contort into something that, surprisingly, resembled fear. Finally, she continued. "I stopped by the DX to fill up my car this morning…. He looked upset," she told Steve, and he let out a sigh of both relief and guilt.
"We got in a fight," Steve admitted, and Lisa nodded her head understandingly.
"About what?"
"Nothing," Steve said shortly, and his date decided to end the subject, recognizing his antagonistic tone.
They were served moments after the topic had been dropped. Steve ordered his usual—fries, a 7-Up, and a hamburger. Lisa ordered one of the most pristine meals Steve had ever witnessed—a salad, lettuce and tomatoes only with low-fat dressing off to the side (which she never even touched), and a water, one lemon and no ice.
They engaged in simple conversation as they ate. Lisa asked about Steve—unimportant questions, like his favorite color, food, etcetera…. Steve didn't talk much. Normally, on first dates, he was the most talkative one—but Lisa had a big mouth; in a good way, of course.
Half-way through the meal, which was pleasantly enjoyable, a familiar face caught Steve's eye. It was a girl—pretty-looking, glaring at him with her lips pursed and arms crossed across her chest. Steve recognized the face almost automatically, even before the female stalked closer to him and Lisa—it was Evie.
He stood up instantly, as though it were second nature. Lisa stared at him uncertainly, following his eyes to Evie, who had finally reached their booth.
"Steve…" she grumbled, casting nasty glances at Lisa. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Steve's eyebrows crawled to his forehead. "I didn't know the Dingo was off-limits. What are you doing here?" he countered.
Evie bit her lip, surveying Lisa from the corner of her left eye. There was obviously envy in her tone and within her expression, which made Steve smirk bitterly.
"This was our date night restaurant," Evie reminded her ex-boyfriend, and Steve laughed a hollow, hostile drawl.
"You claimed it?" he demanded, but he never heard the answer, because he slammed some paper money down on the counter and replaced his fists back in his pockets.
"Come on, Lisa, we're going," he said, jerking his head towards his date. Now Evie's eyebrows were at her forehead, while her eyes blazed with dangerous fury.
Lisa seemed confused, though she followed Steve's instructions and stood up. She managed to grab her purse before she was attacked, but an instant later Evie lifted her drink off the table and assaulted Steve's new girl, dumping the icy water that remained in the cup down her cleavage.