I do not own The Outsiders and The Runaways own the song Little Sister.
Little Sister on your roller-skates
It's Friday night an' you got a date
Right in front of the Watergate.
But now he's gone 'cause you're too late
It's too late to be a kid in love
It's too late to be a kid in love
We're the kids in hate
The Runaways
Tara, Dru and Sylvia were sitting in Dru's living room, discussing party arrangements for Dru's eighteenth birthday bash, with balloons and streamers tossed around carelessly. They were all exhausted from pushing most of the furniture to edge of the room to leave space for dancing. Dru was lucky in that her mother spent most of her time at her boyfriend's house than in the house she shared with her daughter. "The boyfriend isn't exactly thrilled about being a step-daddy so Mom just hangs around his place all the time," explained Dru to Tara. "She only comes by when she needs more clothes and whatever." In short, it was easy to convince her mother to agree to a party.
As Sylvia and Dru debated the party's playlist, Tara's thoughts drifted to her last birthday. It was her Sweet Sixteen but everybody had forgotten but she still had a great day. Looking back on it, it was probably the start of the new life she had now.
She had given up on anyone coming over so she agreed to go buy groceries at the store for her mother. She was about to walk in when a boy leaning against a motorcycle in the parking lot whistled at her. She turned around and pointed to herself.
"Me?" she asked, confused yet secretly thrilled. The boy didn't say anything but made a "come over" sign with his index finger. Scared but a little exhilarated, she made her way over to him.
"Want to go for a ride?" He asked in a thick New York accent.
"Sure," she replied breezily, as if things like this happened all the time to her. She got behind him on to motorcycle and they sped away, groceries forgotten.
He was actually pretty nice to a sixteen year old kid like herself. Tara had told him her name was Rose and he in turn told her his was John but she knew it was lie. He didn't try to kiss her or anything which, truth be told, disappointed her a little. He did buy her some pop and took her around to see a couple of fights. For no particular reason, except for the fact that she had an inkling that she would never see him again, Tara started to confide in him all her hopes and dreams and he listened and told her not to sweat the little things and to just enjoy being a kid. He told her about all the places he'd seen and all the people he'd met and soon Tara forgot about her lousy attempt of a party. It was just a birthday treat, but when the clock struck midnight she was Tara Summers again and got an earful from her mother for coming home late and forgetting to pick up more eggs. He reminded her of the "The Wanderer" song by Dion.
Remembering that day now still made her smile, though.
Tara was thrown back to reality when a pillow was thrown at her head by Sylvia, who was talking to her.
"Tara, could you get the beer from the abandoned warehouse downtown?" It was a favor or an order, depending on how you looked at it. "One of the gangs is supplying it cheaply for us, which most likely means it fell off the back of a truck," continued Sylvia.
"Or pushed," Tara muttered under her breath.
Dru and Sylvia exchange a look and Tara wondered if she said something wrong but the conversation went back to normal so she decided that they were worried she wasn't in a party mood after the incident with Jack. She'd show them she was, later that night.
Tim was in one hell of the mood; he had a busted rib because of that girl-Jack most have got in an extra punch when the fuzz pulled them apart. He and his gang were hanging around in the warehouse they requisitioned as a clubhouse when the girl dating Dean from the Brumley had asked if they could get their hand on some beer for her party which meant breaking the law but at least they would be getting some cash for the deal. The cash alone wasn't why Tim agreed to help the chick out; Dean was Tim's main connection to the Brumely gang who often helped out Shepherd and Co. in their rumbles. Dean was a good fighter but he wasn't too bright and let himself get pushed around by whatever broad he was dating at the moment but Tim didn't care. On the East Side, so long as you could fight, brains weren't a priority.
A knock on the door made Tim laugh. No greaser he ever knew actually knocked on the piece of wood that they called a door. Still, he opened the door himself and was none too pleased when he saw who was behind it.
Tara's cheeks flushed as she saw Tim Shepherd standing in the doorway. She was going to kill those girls! They probably knew he was going to be here! It was bad enough getting rejected by him once, but now she was his damsel in distress and she didn't know if Tim was her knight in shining armor willingly or by accident.
"What are you doing here?" asked Tim gruffly. Tara refused to lose her cool and forced herself to make eye contact with his navy blue eyes.
"Well, I'm friends with Dru and you have the beer for her party so I'm here to collect. Got it?"
Tim smirked at Tara's attempt to be tough and she crossed her arms over her chest defensively.
"No problem, I'll just get some of the boys to put it in your car."
"Car?"
"Yes, car. You know, four wheels, made of metal? Runs on gasoline?"
"I-I don't have a car."
"Well, how in the hell did you think you'd get it to Dru's? Were you going to walk two miles carrying ten cases of beer?"
"I didn't think that far ahead," admitted Tara.
"I bet you didn't."
Tara's eyes flashed. "What's that meant to mean?" she challenged.
"Nothing."
"No, it was meant to mean something. What was it?"
"Well, from what I've seen with you honey, it seems you don't use your head much."
"I…"
Tara opened her mouth to shoot something back but she closed it. Tim was right and he knew it. Tim loved the way it felt to get this broad all riled up and plus, she looked so cute face scrunched up in concentration trying to think of a comeback. He decided to lend her a hand..
"I'll drive you round, got some business in that area to take care of," he offered.
"I don't need your help," snapped Tara. "I'll call Sylvia and she can bring her car around."
"Phone's broken," lied Tim. "Come on, I'll give you a ride. I can just add it to the list of my good deeds."
Tara's face screwed up, unhappy. "I don't want to be your damsel in distress. You don't have to help me every time I get into trouble, you know."
"It isn't to help you; a party ain't much fun without booze."
Tara was fumed for a minute, irritated at herself for not thinking ahead, at Tim for pointing it out, and once more at Tim for looking so cute in his jeans and leather jacket with his piercing blue eyes and James Dean-like attitude.
"Well, you wouldn't be helping me exactly," said Tara. "It's Dru's party so you'd be doing her the favor, not me."
Tim held his hands up. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Tara glared at him.
The car journey was extremely long and silent with both Tim and Tara sneaking glances at each other but looking away when their eyes met. Once at Dru's house Tara jumped out the car before it came to stop and slammed the door so hard the ground shook. Tim gritted his teeth in anger and got out his own side, slamming the door with frustration. He got the cases of beer out himself from the trunk. "Don't bother helping," he called after Tara as she stormed into the house. "It ain't like they're heavy or nothing," he grumbled as he carried the first case into the house.
"I can't believe you, you set me up so I'd go round there feeling all confident and then—" Tara hissed at Dru and Sylvia as soon as she came into the house. They were already dressed for the party and putting the finishing touches on their make-up.
"And then what?" asked Dru as Sylvia applied her eyeliner.
"I saw his stupid face and then his stupid butt in his stupid jeans…" Tara trailed off before flopping herself down on the couch
"Well it seems you had a good look," sneered Sylvia as Dru laughed. Tara flushed. None of the girls noticed Tim was listening at the door.
Tim smiled-so Tara did like him.
Little sister don't you be so straight
Let your old folks call ya jailbait
This mean world it belongs to us
It can be yours so don't hesitate (c'mon)
It's too late to be a kid in love
It's too late to be a kid in love
We're the kids in hate
Hey, hope you like this chapter, reviews would be appreciated and thanks to dizzyizzy123 for betaing this. :)