I do not own The Outsiders

I lay in bed the next day rethinking everything that had happened the night before.

Damn is school gonna suck Monday...

Last night, after the guys had ended their wrestling match, we made our way six blocks over to a house in the eastern part of town. I'm guessing it was Two-Bit's, although we didn't go inside. Instead we all piled into a four door Sedan, that in my opinion looked a little shoddy. But beggars can't be choosers. Other than a brief description of where I lived I hadn't said anything since my earlier conversation with Ponyboy. The boy's on the other hand seemed almost business as usual, or at least what I assumed was their usual. I noticed that Sodapop hardly ever stopped moving long enough for a normal person to catch a breath. Him and Two-Bit joked around a lot, mostly about stuff I knew nothing about. Ponyboy though was just as quiet as I was, and I found him staring off into space more often than not, as he sat in the seat next to mine. I wasn't sure if this was normal for him, but Sodapop and Two-Bit didn't seem to pay it no mind, and I wasn't near brave enough to ask.

Apart from a few quick questions from Two-Bit and Sodapop, I too was pretty much left alone, and I began to think about my mother. Being in Tulsa, where she grew up got me to thinking about her more and more. When we moved into grandma's I refused to take her old room. After I found out which one was hers I pretty much let dad do what needed to be done in there. I couldn't be sure, but to me it looked as if grandma had left it alone after my mom left. I wondered if something like this had ever happened to her, and what would she have done. I found my self wishing I could ask her. I wasn't sure if I was wrong for the way I had handled things with Beau. At the time I did what I thought I had to do to get my self out of a bad situation...

But they say violence is never the answer... Did I overreact?

I didn't know anymore.

Getting up out of bed, I made my way downstairs. My dad was already up making a pot of coffee. As I sat down at the table with a bowl of cereal, my dad joined me.

"How d' that date of yours go last night?" He asked.

I thought about telling him what had happened, but decided that it wouldn't have done any good.

"Fine," I answered evenly, "but I don't think I'll see him again." I finished, not meeting his eye.

My dad raised an eyebrow, giving me a quizzical stare, as if he knew I wasn't telling him everything. He didn't press it though.

"God help me the day my daughter finds a guy that's worth keeping around." He said almost chuckling. Then almost as an afterthought he said, "But, I had a feeling this guy wouldn't last long."

I didn't ask him how he knew, and I also didn't bother telling him that the reason I never kept a guy around, was because there was no point when you never stayed in one place long. Instead I kept quiet and continued eating my cereal.

"Just wait," he said, " one of these days your gonna find a guy that'll knock you off your feet... Just you wait."

I rolled my eyes and gave him my best 'are you kidding me' look. At that he just sat there laughing... I liked my dads laugh, it was loud and you could tell it came from a deep place. When I was a kid that's what I imagined Santa Clause sounding like.

We sat there in silence as I finished off my cereal, and he sat there sipping on his coffee, apparently deep in thought.

He broke the silence, " So I was in town the other day," he paused, " Someone was telling me this place used to be a pretty thriving farm, back in the day."

I didn't say a word, as I sat there staring at him. I already had a bad feeling about where this conversation was going. But when he didn't continue I sighed, "So that's a nice bit of information," I said mock pleasantly, " you tell me that just for conversation sake?"

Man am I not in the mood for another one of his nut job ideas.

If it's possible for a daughter to make her father squirm in his seat, that's exactly what I did. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but I cut him off, "I want you to tell me exactly how bad things are right now." I sighed.

He looked as if he wanted to deny anything was wrong, but after I hit him with a hard look he apparently thought better of it. Instead he let out a heavy sigh, "Things are... bad to say the least. When we were living in New Mexico I was stressin' somethin' awful. I didn't know what we were gonna do. I was scrambling after that eviction notice came in the mail."

He let out another sigh as he searched my face for any sign of emotion. I just sat there with my stoic face making sure not to give anything away. To him I was just my usual calm and collected self. On the inside though I was screaming.

Eviction notice? How in the hell did I not know anything about this. Jesus! I can't believe what I'm hearing!

"Then," he said, "that lawyer of your grandmas' called about a house and property here in Oklahoma. Said it'd been completely paid off about ten years earlier... It was a god- sent. As if my prayers had been answered"

I looked at him unsure of what to say. He just sat there staring down at his coffee.

"So," I began, "the fact that grandma had to die for your prayers to be answered, hasn't fazed you at all?" I asked sharply, "We didn't even make it to her funeral!"

At this my dad said nothing, and instead got up from the table, taking his cup and my empty bowl to the sink.

"Regardless of how we got the property, it's ours now, and I intend to make a go at this farm business. If we do things right It'll pay for itself."

His voice was strained and I could tell he was getting mad, but then again so was I, and I'm nothing without my temper.

"How do you plan on paying for this?" I asked sharply. "Farms cost money to maintain, let alone get going." My voice was getting loud now, but I didn't care.

"For one thing," he started, matching my tone, " I'm getting a job."

That shut me up. In all my years my dad had never had a job. Never had he worked. He always said 'if you do things right, you'll never have to work a day in your life'. I didn't exactly know what we did for money, but I never had a reason to ask before.

"Your grandmother," he stated more quietly, " had some money in the bank when she died, and that should get us started."

Yeah... the money she left me. I love how I get a say in all this.

I sat there and said nothing, knowing it was useless to argue at this point. I wasn't eighteen yet and had no say in anything he did with the property or the money.

"I found some equipment out in the barn, although I'm sure most of it is outdated. We might have to take out a loan from the bank, but until that goes through I intend on finding a job."

"A lone?" I asked incredulously. "We don't know the first thing about a farm, let alone running one. You cant even tell if the equipment is outdated or not. Do you even know what that equipment was used for?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

Who the hell just decides to start a farm?

"That's why I'm going to hire someone." He retorted. "I figure as long as we're taking out a loan, we could use some of that money to hire a consultant of sorts. We would pay em', and even offer room and board. If you don't feel comfortable with them in the house, there is always the bunk house." He said.

Oh my god... He's actually serious...

"I'll put an add out in the paper, advertising the job and pay." He added, "the first thing we are gonna need to do is fix the place up and get things ready."

He stood there leaning against the sink. He looked as if he were waiting for me to say something, but I really didn't have the energy to argue anymore.

After a minute he gave up and went upstairs. Presumably to get ready. After all he had a job to find...

My life just keeps getting better and better...

Hey everyone! I just wanted to say thanks for reading. I do not have a Beta, so feedback on how I'm doing so far would be much appreciated! So Review please. I would love to hear your opinions.