DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Outsiders, or any of the characters within the book. I just like to pretend.
A/N: I very much apologize for the lateness of this chapter. I actually really truly would've had it up sooner had this website not been a bitch to me for a couple of weeks!
Steve could feel someone staring at him.
He slowly opened one eye and saw Ponyboy standing upside down. Steve grunted as he sat up, rubbing his tired eyes, so Pony was standing right side up again. He was still staring.
"What?" Steve asked finally.
Pony motioned to the clock on the wall. "You're gonna be late if ya don't get up."
It was ten o'clock. Steve's shift started at ten-thirty. "Jesus, Ponyboy, think you coulda woke me up a little earlier? Damn, and I gotta walk over there and everything. John's gonna be pissed," he muttered as he walked briskly into the kitchen.
Darry was sitting at the table, writing something.
"Not workin' today, Darrel?" Steve walked over to the half-eaten cake on the table and cut himself a slice.
"Nope," Darry said, shaking his head. "Rained last night, it's too muddy to work. Got canceled. My night job don't start 'til … tonight."
Steve nodded, taking a bite of his cake. "What're you writin'?"
Darry set the pen down and stood up, folding the paper. "Pony and I are do somethin' productive for once." He put the paper in his pocket. "We've got some house chores to tend to. He thought it'd be cool to go out to the races with Dal and Buck without tellin' me, so he owes me one."
"Well you two have fun with that, Superman," Steve said, licking some chocolate icing off his thumb. "Soda gone?"
"He went to work about an hour ago. Doesn't your shift start soon? You better get goin', man, you look like shit."
Steve ran his free hand through his hair. He did look like shit—the grease was mostly gone. He dropped his cake back on the plate and went to the bathroom to fix his hair back to perfection before setting out by foot on his trek to the DX station.
XXX
"Randle—you're late. Wanna tell me why?" John drawled out with an annoyed look on his face.
Steve opened his mouth to speak but was cut off.
"No, never mind, don't bother," John changed his mind, waving off any excuse Steve had. "Come with me to the garage, I gotta talk to you and Curtis."
Steve followed his boss across the lot to the garage where Soda was, though just his legs were visible, sticking out from underneath a '52 Ford.
"Curtis," John said with enough force to make Soda jump.
"Ow," he said, sliding out from underneath the vehicle, a large oil smudge on his forehead. "Oh, hey, John." He stood and shook John's hand.
"Soda. Steve. Y'all mind tellin' me where the hell the Chevy Bel-Air got to? I had an interestin' conversation with Frank yesterday; he said you two dropped by, and after that, the car was gone."
Soda cleared his throat nervously and leaned against the hood of the car, flashing a fake smile.
Steve stifled a sigh. Perhaps they should have discussed what to tell John the night before. He decided to tell him the same lie he'd told Brooks. "Well, sir, I'm friendly with the owner of that car, and, see, there was this big ball game over at the school, and I thought I'd congratulate him with it all good as new. All the work was done, and he needed the car, so I figured why not? We're mailing him the bill and everything, so …" he went ahead with his risky final sentence, "no big deal."
John looked at the two of them with narrowed eyes. "No big deal?" He shook his head. "God Almighty, this is what I get for hiring teenaged kids."
"This and cheaper labor," Soda mumbled almost inaudibly to his hands as he wiped the grease off onto a rag. Steve fought back a grin; he must've been hanging around Two-Bit more lately.
"Do you two not realize that you can't just go and decide a car is good'n fixed unless I say so? Hot damn, what do you think you're experts? Well, lemme assure ya—you ain't."
When it was clear Steve wasn't going to offer any kind of apology, Soda stepped in. "We're real sorry, sir. We didn't realize it'd cause such a ruckus."
John's expression softened, if only slightly. Leave it to Soda to charm his way out of trouble. John gave the pair a frustrated look. "You two'll be lucky if I don't doc your pay. Now get back to work. Steve, I need you manning the pumps for now."
"What?" he asked. "You want me fillin' gas tanks?"
"Don't be pretentious, Randle. You ain't exactly senior mechanic just yet. Go clock in, get changed, and get to the pumps."
Steve grumbled something under his breath and looked at Soda, who shrugged. What the hell was John thinking? Putting Steve at the gas pumps was bad for business, damn it! He was sure the number of customers had increased since Steve had been in the garage, doing real work. Forcing him to perform something so mundane as filling gas tanks would be hurtful more to John than to himself. He shook his head and grudgingly went inside to clock in.
XXX
Steve and Soda took their lunch break around one-thirty. Walking over the general store where greasers usually went as opposed to the cafeteria, they went over the events from the night before.
"So, how was time alone with Evie, huh? Did'ja kiss her?" Soda asked as they entered the store, the little bell on the door jingling.
Steve scoffed like that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "Please, man, I got to second, at least."
Soda laughed. "She don't play games, now, do she?" They walked to the back and got a couple bags of chips and some Cokes. "How'd you manage that with her daddy in the house?"
Steve shrugged. "He went to bed early." Soda started digging money out of his pocket. "I got this," he said, shelling out a few dollar bills he'd acquired from his father. "And believe me, man, Evie is somethin' else. No kiddin'."
Grinning, Soda opened his Coke bottle and waited for Steve to get his change back. "I believe it. She is pretty good-lookin'. Ain't exactly another Marilyn Monroe, but still cute."
"Hey, watch it, man, that's my girl you're talkin' about," Steve said, almost offended.
"Oh, so she's your girl, now? Didn't realize things were gettin' so serious." He smiled again. "I'm only yankin' your chain, Stevie."
"I know it. I think she kinda looks like Jackie Kennedy, don'cha think? Real classy lookin'."
Soda laughed a little. "Yeah, yeah I can see that, some."
Removing the cap to his Coke, Steve cracked a slight grin. "What about you? How'd things go with Sweet Sandy?"
Sodapop grinned pseudo-shyly, his eyes dancing some. "Things went … nicely, if you know what I mean." They headed toward the exit, drinking their Cokes and eating their chips along the way.
"She a real wild child?"
He laughed. "Oh yeah, man. Sandy is a real—"
"Sandy's a real what?"
Steve and Soda both spun around quickly to see who'd addressed them.
"Pony, hey, what are you doing here?" Soda asked.
Ponyboy motioned to the bag in his arms. "Darry's mad about me hangin' around Buck last night so he's decided to make me help him with some Spring cleaning thing. I offered to go grab some things to get outta the house."
"Spring cleaning? What're those Social Service people s'posed to drop by soon or somethin'?"
Pony shrugged, and the three walked out of the store together. "So, what were you sayin' about Sandy?"
Steve cocked an eyebrow at Soda. "Oh, nothin' real interesting, Pony," Soda told him.
"Aw, c'mon, man, you've always let me in on your little bull sessions before," Ponyboy pried.
Soda looked at his brother pointedly. "Yeah, well … Not Sandy, dig?"
Steve watched this scene with slight amusement and interest. Ponyboy wasn't a bad kid, but he could be real nosy sometimes. Always trying to hang around people who were doing things too old for him. There's nothing more annoying than a little kid who thinks he's all grown up. He oughta be playing football with Johnny, not trying to hear about his brother's private life.
Pony let out an annoyed sigh. "All right, man." He gave Steve an odd look. "See y'all later."
When the youngest Curtis was out of earshot, Soda continued with his tale. "Anyway, man, we got back to her place …"
XXX
Back at the DX, Soda gave his Ford a break and accompanied Steve to the gas pumps.
"There been any pretty girls around today?" Soda asked.
"Eh, a few decent-lookin' ones, but nothin' special. You missed that Marion girl, though, ya know the blonde one?"
Soda looked a tad disappointed, but brightened immediately after. "Hey, we still goin' hot-rodin' tonight?"
Steve smirked as a car pulled into the station. "'Course we are. For greasers, those Brumly kids sure got a lotta dough. They think they're real tough shit, too. We'll show 'em."
Grinning, Soda removed his cap and wiped his brow. "Customer," he said, motioning to the car pulling up.
Once the car was parked, Steve leaned down to look in the window as the driver rolled it down. "Evie? What're you doin' here?"
She laughed. "What do you think? My dad wanted the tank filled, so I'm here. Three dollar's worth." She held the money out to Soda.
Steve grabbed the pump and opened the gas tank, placing the pump in the fill spout.
"I thought you were the big supreme mechanic, Steve?" she asked impishly.
Soda laughed. Steve looked at him indignantly. "We're short a couple people today, so I offered to help out over here. You want the oil checked?"
"Just the gas, thanks," she answered, eyeing him.
Steve waited for the tank to fill and removed the pump. "So, Evie," he said, leaning down to look in the window again, "you still interested in coming to the races with us tonight?"
"Sandy, too," Soda added.
"If your offer still stands."
"As I remember it, you asked to come along," he said with a cocky tone.
"Well, aren't you a gentleman," she said with a laugh. She didn't seem to mind his attitude like most did. "What time will you pick me up?"
"Time's no object, right? I'll be by a little after eight that okay?" he asked.
"I'll call Sandy when I get home and tell her." She flashed a smile. "See y'all tonight." She waved at Steve and drove off.
"You sure are attracted to some interesting gals, man," Soda said when she was out of sight.
Steve grinned. "Makes for an entertaining life."
Oh, God, Steve filling gas tanks? Talk about cruel and unusual punishment. Well, a lot was obviously accomplished here. Heh—there'll be more action in the next chapter, I swearz. As always, comments and concrit are very much appreciated.