DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Outsiders.

Back at work the next day, Steve's mind was wandering, so much so that he ran into Soda—literally—on his way out of the Employees' Lounge.

"Whoa, hey Steve, hold your horses. The cars ain't goin' anywhere," Soda told him.

"Sorry, man, I'm a little distracted," he replied. "I got a letter from Jack yesterday."

"Oh, yeah? How's he doin'?"

"He's in Dallas now," he said, removing the letter from his pocket. "I didn't even know he left Knoxville. I'm the brother of a damn drifter, Sodapop."

Soda chuckled. "That's no big deal, man. He's pretty near here, huh? You should tell him to come for a visit."

Steve shook his head. "I haven't seen him in too long, that'd be awkward. Besides, he's on his way to Houston as we speak."

"Oh," Soda said simply. "Well, maybe next time he's around."

"If he ever is," Steve replied.

"He say anything else?" Soda asked.

Steve returned the letter to his pocket. "He pretended to get all pissy because I didn't send him a happy birthday letter last month. That's kind of a running gag with us. Ya know, since I don't ever really know where the hell he is."

John walked in then, wiping the oil off of his hands onto his jeans. "Curtis, would you get the hell out there? Customers are waitin'."

"Yes, sir," Soda said, grinning, before hurrying outside.

Steve went to follow his friend's lead, but was halted by John.

"I got a new assignment for you, kid," he said. "That '55 Bel-Air is still in need of some work. I need you to finish her up."

Steve felt a sudden mixture of gleefulness and confusion. "I thought that was Mike's job?" he asked.

"Not anymore, he enlisted a while back and shipped off to boot yesterday," John explained.

"Enlisted?" Steve asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah," he said, "enlisted, as in, no longer here. So go get to work, will ya? The owner's expectin' it back by the end of the week."

Steve nodded wordlessly and walked outside toward the garage, but not before stopping at the gas pumps to gloat.

"Hey, Soda," he said, walking over and interrupting a girl's attempt at flirtation, "guess who's workin' on the Chevy?"

Soda stopped for a moment and thought. "Mike?"

"What? No!" Steve punched Soda in the shoulder. "I am, you beatnik. Did you know Mike enlisted? Crazy, right?"

"No kiddin'? Well, that's cool. Hey maybe we can get John to let us borrow it to take the girls to the game tomorrow. How tuff would we look pullin' up in that beauty?"

"Tuff as all get out. But I have a feeling we'd get fired for even asking, and I need my job," he said with a small laugh. The gas bill still sat in his back pocket with the letter.

"Hah, yeah well … You never know."

Steve chuckled and left to the garage to work on the car that he had been building up in his mind as the greatest man-made creature in existence. This was a car he had fantasized about on more than one occasion, a car that invaded his dreams and taunted him with its beauty. This was the Messiah of all cars.

But even still, Steve had some trouble keeping his thoughts concentrated on his Chevy Bel-Air. He focused hard on his wrench as he tightened the various nuts and bolts, trying to cease the oil leak, but his mind still drifted. There was Jack, whom he hadn't seen in years and only received an occasional letter from; there was his dad, who seemed to think 'Final Notice' meant 'Pay When Convenient … Or Never'; and then there was Evie, who distracted him even from his distractions. She crossed his mind several times between each thought, and just wouldn't go away. He thought of her smile, her smirk. She had nice lips. He'd have to spend about week wiping the lipstick off his own if he kissed them, but he wouldn't mind that.

So preoccupied with his thoughts, Steve didn't realize he was turning his wrench lefty-loosey, instead of righty-tighty. Not until a nice stream of motor oil escaped and squirted him in the face.

He made a sorry attempt at wiping it off. "Goddamnit, Evie …"

XXX

Steve sat on the couch in Soda's house, his knee involuntarily bouncing. He'd never admit it, but the prospect of picking Evie up in less than an hour for a first date made him nervous. Was she the kind of girl who kissed on the first date? He hoped so. Was she just another airhead? She couldn't be. He couldn't help but let a myriad of questions plague him. It was confusing; he never had this problem with other girls.

"So I guess you guys won't be coming to the races then?" Dallas asked from his spot on the couch.

"What kinda races, cars or horses?" Steve asked.

"Horses, man, what else?"

"We would, man, but we got dates with a couple of fine young ladies," Soda replied with a suave grin.

"Ya know, this is cute," Two-Bit said, pointing his cigarette at Steve and Soda. "You two goin' on a little double-date. I oughta take a picture to remember this by."

"Shut up, Two-Bit," Steve said, annoyed.

"No really, this is truly adorable. I could pinch your little cheeks," he laughed. "I'll have to ask Kathy out now so we can triple-date."

Dallas laughed.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that one, Two-Bit," Soda told him.

"How come?"

"You know her brother, man," Steve said, lighting himself a cigarette to get his leg to cease its bouncing. "You know his rep. Runs with Shepard, man."

"We whipped Shepard's gang, didn't we?" Two-Bit asked rhetorically. Dallas laughed again. "What's so funny, Dally?"

"Nothin', man."

"Aw, y'all're just jealous 'cause Kathy's prettier than Sylvia, Sandy, and Evie put together."

"Tell Sylvia that and you'll get your ass kicked," Dallas said, standing up and stretching. "So no one's gonna come with me, huh? What about Ponyboy, where's he and Johnny at?"

"You know Darry'd blow a gasket if he knew Pony was anywhere near Merril, man." Soda said.

Dallas sighed and put on his jacket. "Well, shit. I'll take 'em to the goddamn movies then. You know where they're at?"

"Pony said they were going to the bowling alley."

"All right. I'll see y'all later." He walked out, patting his various pockets for cigarettes.

Soda stood then. "Whaddya think, man? It's about time we got goin'."

"Yeah, okay," Steve replied, extinguishing his Camel.

"Well okay now, you kids go have a good time," Two-Bit said, walking toward the kitchen. "I'll go find Darry and keep him company."

"Darry's working 'til nine, Two-Bit," Soda said.

Two-Bit thought for a moment. "Well, I've got a couple six packs at home. I'll take Darry drinkin' after work," he said, laughing, and left into the kitchen.

Soda laughed. "He's crazy."

XXX

The car would not start. This was potentially the most important day of his now seventeen-year-old life, and the car would not start.

"What the hell, man?" Steve asked his steering wheel. "I keep you in the best condition known to man, I clean you, I change your oil, and you pick now to run out of gas?"

"We're gonna be late pickin' up the girls. Sandy's place is kinda far."

"Thanks, Soda, I didn't realize that. Shit, we'll never be able to get to the DX and back with gas in time."

Soda paused, and then grinned slyly. "We could get to the DX in time."

Steve had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "That's great, Soda. That's real great. Except, I'm not pushing this goddamn car all the way there."

"You've got the Bel-Air pretty well fixed up, don't you?"

"That thing belongs to a Soc, man."

"All the more reason it should be test-driven before returned to the owner, right? Those Socs like their stuff in perfect shape. We've gotta make sure it runs good before handing it over, don't we?"

Steve sighed, staring at the meter, thinking.

"Goddamnit, Soda ..."

Gahh, I'm very sorry for the long time it took to update … I should be officially nominated for Worst Updater of the Year. I'm working on it. The holidays are coming so I should have more free time. Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter, at least. This was a hard one to write for some reason, and once again I'm concerned about the pacing. Any comments/crit. are appreciated.