Alrighty! Two chapters in one day...you better love me for it. lol. Hope you enjoy. I enjoyed writing it.


When Angie went to school the following day things had done a whole one eighty degree turn. She approached her followers that morning to see that they had disclaimed her.

"We're sick of your bitchiness." The newfound leader, Trish, said to Angie the moment she arrived. All of the girls had turned to face her, and they glared coldly at the girl who had tormented them with insults and snooty remarks all year. The only one smiling was Carmen. This had all been her idea, and thanks to Angie's absence, she was able to enact her grand scheme: convince the girls to get rid of Angie.

"Bitchiness? Aren't you a bit out of line, Trish? Last I heard you were sleeping with two different guys on the football team." Angie spat. Of course it wasn't true. Angie had started that sick rumor nearly two weeks ago. She smiled in spite of herself as she recalled Trish's pure horror upon hearing what people were saying about her.

"Oh you know that didn't happen, but do you know what did happen Angie? Do you remember what you did with Anthony at your last party? You guys did it in front of everyone."

"I was drunk. I think you were well aware that you were being a slut when you were with Connor in the locker room." Angie retorted icily.

"Shut the hell up Angie! We're all sick of you!" Carmen yelled out, jumping defensively in front of Trish. It was a bad move on her part.

Angie gritted her teeth and decided not to waste her breath. She used her fists instead.

Knuckle made contact with nose, a sickening crack was heard, and a pain filled shriek was sounded, along with a chorus of appalled gasps and noises. Carmen shrank back, holding her nose, her hand beginning to drip with blood. Trish jumped in and attempted to smack Angie, but failed. Her futile attempt only made her hand make contact with air. Angie took a step back, and while Trish was regaining her balance, tackled her, threw her to the ground, and pinned her there.

She was leaning over her, snickering as Trish looked up in fear. Smack! Smack! Smack!

Angie was slapping her face repeatedly. Trish was wringing her hands in the fabric of Angie's shirt, trying to rip it off of her, but it didn't help any. The force of the slaps did not lessen. At last Trish became motionless and allowed her head to loll to the side in defeat. Tears were glistening on her bright red cheeks.

A crowd had gathered around to watch. Mouths hung wide open, feet were ready to spring into action if the fight went too far, and some were chanting. It wasn't often that a girl fight so vicious occurred in the school yard. A tense excitement hung in the air. They were all so fascinated that no one had bothered to run in and get an adult.

Angie rose and stood above Trish, laughing as she saw that she'd slapped her face raw.

To make her exit, Angie gave Trish a swift kick in the ribs before walking off. A long sob was heard the moment she turned away. People huddled around the victim, most of them forgetting Angie.

She eyed the group of bookworms who stared at her as she went in the building warily. She would warn them about not telling a teacher, or anyone for that matter, about what she'd done, but she saw that they were already frightened, as if they'd heard her threats before. No one wanted to mess with her, she realized, and she didn't quite know how to feel about it.

The day was horrible, but Angie couldn't have cared less. She skipped lunch and returned home to change into a shirt that hadn't been clawed through. In the hallways she ignored the looks she received. It had been her plan to finish high school, but now she had changed her mind. Now that what little of a good reputation that she'd had was gone, she was going to drop out. She wasn't going to sit through the horror of high school without any fun to accompany it.

Angie left the boys alone that evening and went out in search of some excitement. Her brain was tackling her with questions she didn't want to answer. She was beginning to wonder if she really could hold those three boys in her basement much longer. Their health was steadily going downhill, and it wouldn't be long till their sanity was deteriorating. Not one of them had shown signs of cracking just yet, but she knew it'd be soon. She didn't want demented boys in her basement. She'd only wanted to have a little fun, and then when she was done, run away with Sodapop, but it seemed her plan wasn't working. A part of her wondered what was going to happen next. Another part of her, the dominant part, was telling her that she could do whatever she wanted, and no matter how bad, she would get away with it.

She recalled having decided to get herself checked out, and rushed to set up an appointment for the doctor's the next day.

She then drove to the poorer part of town, where she wasn't known so well. She'd dressed for the occasion, and hoped that she'd blend in. She'd seen the rustic old place many times when she'd driven by the DX to stare longingly at Sodapop. She knew she would find what she was looking for there.

She spent the rest of the evening in that bar, which was in strictly greaser area, sipping a tangy mixed drink. They didn't seem to care that she was under aged – she was rich and could pay the fine, and that was all that mattered.


Judy was taking her time in packing up the clothes. Mark had stormed off after their fierce argument, but she knew he'd be back. He was an old man, he wasn't going anywhere fast.

She'd never once mentioned it; actually, she'd preferred to keep it a secret because Judy didn't want anyone to know she was still clinging to a life that would never be hers again. At the bottom of her suitcase was a photo of her two daughters, smiling brilliantly under the mellow spring sun. Judy often found herself staring into it, remembering her two lovely daughters.

The day Angie had been born, Lindsey had only been four. They'd presumed Lindsey wouldn't be pleased; it was the natural reaction for a child to be jealous when a new baby was brought home, but Lindsey was overjoyed. You could imagine the shock of her parents. Neither of them ever understood why Lindsey loved her little sister so much. Besides being pretty, she had never been exactly a pleasant child. She was argumentative, wild, and uncontrollable. Nevertheless, their bond was unbreakable. It was easy to tell Angie loved her sister more than her own mother.

"I don't think I ever gave you a chance, did I?" She said, looking at the little girl that resembled her so much. Maybe she had been wild, but they'd spoiled her and never once punished her for her devilish deeds. Judy felt that most of the blame fell on her shoulders, that it was her fault her child was so despictable.

Her thoughts came to a halt when the door creaked open. Judy fumbled to hurriedly stuff the picture back into the suitcase.

"Are you sure about this?" it was her husband. He wore a weary expression.

"I have to at least try. She's my daughter. There has to be something I can do." Judy sounded strong, her voice was even and confident, but she herself was doubtful. What if her daughter shunned her like before?

"She might hate us, but we can't give up on her." Judy said, as if she were answering her internal doubts aloud. Mark sighed and ran a hand through his graying hair.

"I'm doing this because I love you, you know that don't you?"

Judy smiled and approached her husband. She planted a kiss on his cheek and wrapped her arms around his strong neck.

"I know." She replied in a warm whisper that tickled Mark's skin. She was still young, beautiful, and vibrant. He couldn't help but to wonder why she'd stuck with him all this time.


"Have we met before?"

Angie turned to face the bold man who had dared to speak to her. He obviously wasn't familiar with her wrath.

Just as she was about to unleash her rage upon him with a witty, smart aleck comeback, she realized something. She had seen him somewhere before, but she wasn't quite sure where.

Angie didn't reply, she just stared at the young man until something clicked.

"You work at the DX, don't you?"

He looked taken aback, and he replied hastily.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I got my car fixed there one time by…Sodapop." The name made something in her chest ache. Was it her heart? Did she even have one?

Something in her subconscious pushed her forward. She took yet another sip, this time a larger one. She wouldn't admit it to herself, but she craved the drink more than anything. She loved the way it slithered hotly down her throat, how the aftertaste lingered for hours.

"Uh…yeah." His discomfort was obvious. Angie seized the opportunity to learn more about Sodapop.

"I know what happened." She batted her eyelashes and attempted a sad pout. "What was he like?"

"He was a good buddy."

"Was? Are you so sure he's dead?" She cocked one brow questioningly.

"We can't find him or any of them…we've looked everywhere." Angie observed with secret joy that he had yielded to the pressure and was beginning to give up on finding his friend. Good, that was good.

"You know, he could be right under your nose. Don't give up so easily." She smiled knowingly. Steve wasn't sure how to respond to the girl. For someone he'd never met, she sure seemed to know a lot.

"Well, since you haven't offered to buy me a drink, I think I'll be leaving now." Angie jumped down from her stool and started towards the door.

"Hey!" He called out, going after her. Angie stopped and turned to face Steve. She could see the despondency in his eyes, and she saw the reason he was at this bar. He wanted to forget about his woes, just as she had a time ago when she felt everything was crumbling down. She decided then that she liked Steve.

"Just take my number…in case you see or hear anything." Steve handed her a scrap of paper he'd pulled from his pocket. Angie snickered, thinking to herself that he'd come prepared. She wouldn't be surprised to find more little scraps with his number scrawled on it in his pockets.

"I'll notify you if I do." Angie promised before bustling out.

She giggled the whole way home. Oh, the irony of the situation.