DISCLAIMER: Yes, it is true. I lack ownership of The Outsiders. The writing/posting of this story earns me no money. –le sigh-
A high school baseball game was not Steve's idea of a good time. He'd take it over a trip to the movies, definitely, and they were plenty fun when it was just him, Soda, and the gang goofing around, but this was something entirely different. On a (first) date, he actually had to seat in the bleachers and watch—something he wasn't used to. He quickly grew tired of listening to a bunch dimwit Socs whoop and holler, and Soda was too busy charming Sandy to be of any entertainment. Normally he and Soda would partake in certain juvenile mischief—messing with the Socs, yelling obscenities at the opposing team, whistling at girls as they passed—but being on a date required that they act more maturely. Steve sighed. He was bored.
He turned to Evie. "You want a Coke? Or a … Rogers sweatshirt or somethin'?"
She laughed, and shook her head. "I'll pass on the sweatshirt. I could use a Coke, though. It's hot out tonight. You know, April. Spring. Heat."
He stood up quickly, pulling change out of his pocket and laughing quietly, embarrassed (though he wouldn't show it) at her reference to their encounter in the school hallway days before. "Yeah, the temperature seems to peak around eight in the evening." She smiled. "I'll go get you one."
She reached up and grabbed his open hand, pulling herself to her feet. "I'll go with you."
"All right," he said. "Hey, Soda, we're goin' to get some drinks, you want anything?"
Soda and Sandy broke away from their conversation just long enough to look up and ask for a couple of Pepsis. Under usual circumstances Steve wouldn't be too eager to fetch beverages for a perfectly capable person, but these circumstances were not of the usual. Soda was seemingly deep in conversation with Sandy, more than just the surface flirtations most guys used on most girls. He liked her very much, Steve could tell, and their attraction was mutual.
"Come on," he said to Evie, and they made their way down the crowded bleachers and toward the concession stands.
"So, uh, you a big Will Rogers baseball fan?" she asked, already knowing the answer, as they walked toward the line.
"You think I woulda offered to get you a drink if I was?" He chuckled sarcastically.
She smiled. "I'd never expect it."
He looked at her, unsmiling. He liked her very much, and he hoped that attraction was mutual, too. Though, he still wasn't quite sure why or how he'd come to like her so much, so quickly. It was uncharacteristic of him, and confusing as hell. He did his best to brush it off, but it never quite worked. "What about you?" he asked. "You dig baseball?"
She giggled, taking a fresh stick of gum out of her bag and removing it from its wrapper. "Not really," she said, and then paused. "But my uncle took me to a Colt .45s game a few years ago when I visited him in Houston."
"Oh, yeah?" He laughed. "I think they're called the Astros now."
"Oh," she said sheepishly. "I guess that sounds better."
He nodded, and they grew quiet. He mentally kicked himself (he'd been doing that a lot lately); why he was out with one girl he actually liked as more than just another good- lookin' broad, yet was perpetuating a conversation about baseball of all things, was beyond him. "Cars are more my thing," he said finally. Now there was a subject he didn't mind talking about.
"I can imagine, what with that nice car you've got."
Steve couldn't help but feel a tad guilty, keeping up the charade, but ignored it. He never actually said it was, in fact, his car, after all. "Yeah, they're my specialty."
"My dad digs cars, so I know a little bit. How to change a tire, anyway." She laughed.
"Oh, once you been hangin' around me a while, you'll be liftin' hubcaps quicker than greased lightning," he joked.
Evie ran a hand through her hair. "Well, that's something to look forward to."
"You gonna buy something or stand around all day?"
Steve realized they'd reached the front of the line, where a kid he recognized from school was standing, annoyed, waiting for them to order something.
"Robert, when the hell did you get a job?" Steve asked.
"Pop or popcorn, man?" he replied, irritated.
"What kinda Coke you want, Evie?"
"Dr. Pepper," she answered.
"All right, Robbie, that'll be a Coke, a Dr. Pepper, and two Pepsis."
Robert took his time fetching the four drinks. "That'll be a quarter."
Steve shelled out the change and handed Evie two drinks before taking two, himself. They began the walk back to their seats, and Steve began to elaborate on the car conversation. "Oh yeah, I can school you real good in anything you wanna know about cars, girlie."
"I'll have to come by the DX sometime for a lesson. Or are you still working the register?" she asked with a smirk.
"Hell, naw. I was only at the register before as a favor to someone who had to cut out early. I'm the best mechanic they've got. Come by anytime, I'll show ya the ropes."
She smiled, and they climbed back up the bleachers to their seats, where, Steve could see, Soda was grinning ear-to-ear and Sandy was laughing heartily. "Soda, man, take your blasted drink," Steve said once they reached the top.
Soda and Sandy took their Pepsis. "Thanks, man," Soda replied.
"Anything interesting happen while we was gone?" Steve motioned to the game.
Soda looked toward the field. "Oh, uh, same ol', same ol', I guess."
Steve shook his head and took a drink of Coke. Sandy started up her incessant chatting, and even from a couple feet away, it buzzed in Steve's ear. Sandy was a nice enough girl, especially if Soda liked her so much, but Steve was glad Evie didn't talk all the time like that.
"So, where did y'all meet?" Steve noticed the buzzing was now directed at him.
"Huh?" he asked, turning toward her.
She leaned past Soda. "You and Evie, how'd y'all two meet each other?"
"Oh," he looked back at the game, "uh, school."
"Well, actually," Evie leaned past Steve, "we met at the DX. But we go to school together."
"Oh, that's how Soda and I met!" Sandy exclaimed, perhaps unnecessarily loud.
Way to state the obvious. "Yeah, I was there," Steve said, a little sarcastically.
"Hmm … I guess you were," Sandy replied. There was a long, awkward pause, which was broken only by the sound of Steve sipping his Coke. Soda noticed it and tried to fix it.
"Check it out, guys, we're winning!" he said, pseudo-enthusiastically, pointing to the field.
Sandy rolled her eyes and stood up. "I need to use the ladies' room. Evie?"
Evie sighed. "I just got back!" Sandy sent her a meaningful look. She sighed, getting up and following Sandy down the bleachers.
Steve and Soda watched them walk through the crowds. "There they go to talk about us." Soda laughed, and playfully punched Steve in the shoulder.
Steve looked at the girls as they walked toward the restrooms, and sighed, annoyed. "You think that's good or bad?"
XXX
Walking into the girls' room, Evie lit a cigarette and took a short drag. "What is it, Sandy?"
Sandy walked over to one of the cracked mirrors and began examining her makeup. "Soda's handsomer than James Dean, isn't he?"
Evie morbidly thought of what Dean plausibly looked like on September 30, 1955, but held back a smile and agreed, "He's cute as a box of puppies." He was cute, sure, but maybe a little over the top.
"He's a dream, I swear." She rubbed away some fallen mascara from underneath her eye. "What's wrong with that Steve boy you're with?"
"Hmm?"
Sandy turned so her back was to the mirror. "Steve, what's he so angry about? He don't like me or somethin'?"
Evie raised an eyebrow slightly. "What are you goin' on about?"
"He looks really, I don't know … pissed off, for some reason."
Evie laughed. "He's not pissed off, that's just how he looks, I think." She took another drag and smiled through the smoke as she exhaled.
"Oh. Well, what's fun about dating a guy who looks like he just ate a bunch of sour grapes?" Sandy asked, lighting her own Lucky Strike.
She rolled eyes, though wasn't really annoyed. "Shut up, I like him. Besides, I think we match."
"Match? What do you mean?" She looked at Evie for a moment. "I guess you both have dark hair," she took a few steps closer to her, "and … green eyes, too. That's about it, as far as I can tell."
Evie shook her head, and pushed her hair back. Looks weren't exactly what she was getting at, but she didn't feel the need to explain any further. "We should get back, they're waiting."
Sandy shrugged. "All right, but maybe you could tell him to be a little less angry-looking? It's kind of a drag."
"Oh, please. Anyone's a drag at a boring old baseball game. Just wait 'til you see him in action. He knows cars better than anybody, believe me, and he's the best mechanic around. Once you get to know him, you'll see."
Sandy rolled her eyes. "Right, as if you really know him."
"I know Steve better than you know Soda, at least. All you do is giggle at his pick-up lines." Evie took a hit off her cigarette and blew the smoke in Sandy's face.
"Don't kid yourself, Evie. You've known him for what, a few days? I met Soda weeks ago. He rides in rodeos, you know," she said, her hands now on her hips.
Evie rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Who cares if he can ride a horse? A horse can't take you for a drive around town, or anything else fun, for that matter."
"Yeah, well, at least Soda can do something besides change the oil in a car."
"Yeah, well, at least Steve isn't hanging all over me."
"Yeah, well, at least …"
They paused angrily for a moment, before finally succumbing to laughter. "We're being stupid," Sandy said through a laugh. "God, they're just boys for crying out loud."
"No kidding. Let's just, uh, call a truce and agree they're both lovely."
Sandy chuckled. "Deal. Now let's get going or they're gonna think we fell in."
They walked out of the restroom, dropped their smokes on the pavement, and went back to their seats.
XXX
"Aaannndd, they're back," Soda said in the voice of a horse race announcer as the girls made their way up the bleachers. "They're smilin', too, I think they were talkin' good things about us." Steve laughed, and their dates made it to the top and took their seats.
"So, what'd we miss?" Evie asked.
Steve shrugged. "Nothin' worth writing home about."
"Anyone else bored as all get out here? Baseball just ain't fun to watch when you're really watchin'," Soda said, putting his arm around Sandy's shoulders.
"Yeah, this place is out of it. Too many damn Socs. There's what, one inning left? Two? Y'all wanna cut out early, get a bite to eat or somethin'?" Steve suggested.
"Oh yeah, I'm starving!" Sandy said brightly.
Steve looked at Evie. "You wanna get outta here?"
She shrugged and stood. "Let's go."
XXX
Pulling into the Dingo off of the Ribbon, Steve was wary of anyone who looked like the type to do something to Brooks' car. Unfortunately, just about everyone who came to the Dingo looked like they might. In the month before, a girl was shot by some crazy, drunk guy waving a gun around like a maniac. (Whether or not she lived, Steve wasn't sure). The Dingo was one of Steve's favorite food joints, but it was a place you had to be careful around, especially with a Soc's car that could get you jailed, or even fired if you weren't careful.
"Can we eat inside?" Sandy asked. "I don't think I ever have."
Steve nodded and drove through the parking lot, looking for an empty space. At the Dingo people usually ate in their cars, or walked around, but eating inside was an option, too.
"Maybe we oughta park 'round back," Soda suggested, watching a kid eye the car as they drove.
"Ya think?" Steve asked, smart-alecky, as he drove around to the other side of the restaurant and found a satisfactory spot. He parked the car and the four of them walked inside the loud, smoke-filled building.
The Dingo lacked a hostess, so they meandered on back and chose their own booth. Steve grinned at the vague sounds of a fist fight coming from another room, or right outside. The Dingo was a helluva lot better than some baseball game; things were happening all around, constantly. Action was what Steve thrived on.
A waitress walked over and handed everyone menus. Steve gave them back. "I think we all know what we want, right?"
The waitress rolled her eyes and took out a pad and pen. "What do y'all want?"
"A Pepsi and just a salad with light dressing," Sandy said pleasantly.
"Could I get that chicken thing? That comes with the onion rings? And a, uh … CoCola." Soda said, and the waitress wrote.
Evie smiled. "I'd like a cheeseburger, no onions or tomatoes, fries on the side, and a Root Beer."
Steve looked at her. She actually ordered something, whodathunkit? He liked a girl who ordered more than a couple of croutons like most he'd dated did. Picky chicks like that didn't mesh well with Steve; they just got annoying. "I'll have the same, but a Coke instead," he told the waitress.
She jotted it down, already walking off. "I'll be back with your drinks."
Soon after, she came back and set their drinks on the table, along with four straws. Steve picked a straw up and had to fight back the urge to blow the wrapper at the waitress, and he could tell Soda had to as well. It was immature, sure, but still fun.
"Hey, Soda, how much ass do you think we'd whoop racin' in that car?" Steve asked, referring to the Bel-Air.
"Man, in that car, we'd be like Fireball Roberts and Eddie Sachs," he replied with a suave grin.
"Except maybe, not dead," Steve added.
Soda laughed a little uneasily, and took a sip of his Coke. Even four months later, he was still pretty fragile when it came to talking about death, even lightheartedly. Steve forgot sometimes.
Evie's eyebrows rose. "Y'all race cars, too?"
Steve draped an arm around Evie's shoulders. She didn't shake it off, so he took that as a good sign. "Oh yeah, all the time," he said.
"Actually, when Curly Shepard was at our place last week, he let it slip that there was a pretty hefty race bein' organized for this weekend. Tomorrow, I think. For big money, too."
Steve and Evie leaned forward, interested. "No kiddin'?" Steve asked rhetorically. "He say where?"
"I ain't sure, just heard the Brumly boys were involved, so I figure somewhere around there, outta the city."
"Is that safe? Those kids from Brumly are tough," Sandy interjected.
"Oh, come on, Sandy, we've hung around tougher guys," Evie said, stirring her pop with her straw.
Tougher? "Nah, them Brumly boy ain't so badass like they think. We whooped 'em before, and we could again. Sounds to me like this might could make for some quality entertainment," Steve said, his interest peaked.
The waitress came back with their food and layed it out on the table. "If you need anything just let me know."
"Sounds pretty tuff," Evie said when she left. "Maybe we could come? Wave a flag or something?"
"Could we?" Sandy asked, poking at her salad.
Soda nodded, thoughtfully. "We could probably do that. You gotta be careful, though, with all those dirty greasers hangin' around," he joked.
Evie picked up her burger. "I think we can handle ourselves." She smiled at Sandy.
"You'll hafta do something about that ten o'clock curfew, then." Steve looked around for a clock, though he knew there wasn't one around. "What time is it, anyway?"
Sandy opened her bag and took out a small pocket watch. "A little after nine."
"We better eat and get outta here."
"Don't worry about my dad, Steve. He just gets like that when I go out with a new guy. Time is no factor." She smiled at him, now, and took a bite of her food.
XXX
They walked out, Steve with his arm around Evie, and Soda with his around Sandy, around to the back of the building where they'd left the car. Who they found leaning against it, they never would've thought they'd see around the Dingo.
"What the hell're you greasers doin' with my car?" Wayne Brooks asked angrily, standing upright and walking toward them, two cronies in tow.
Steve and Soda stepped out in front of the girls. Steve looked at Soda. "This was all your idea, man."
Soda dug a cigarette out of his pocket.
Wow, I updated, amazing, isn't it? I would've gotten this up a few days ago, but I got a bit distracted. Hopefully I made up for it with a longer chapter? I know my last one got rather dialogue-heavy, so I tried to even it out with this one. And -gasp- I added Evie's POV! If it seemed to, er ... random, or just didn't fit, tell me and I'll try to fix it. Comments/ConCrit are appreciated. : )