Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders or the song "Light Me Up".

Does what I'm wearing seem to shock you? Well, that's okay. 'Cause what I'm thinking about you is not okay. I've got it on my mind to change my ways. But I don't think I can be anything other than me. No, I don't think I can be anything other than me.

"He's such a control freak." It's the first words out of her mouth after she stops making faces and gagging and listening to my story. "Lord, have mercy on your poor soul for having to put up with it for as long as you did."

She removes her cigarette from her mouth and blows out smoke. I do the same, copying her moves exactly. It's funny. I never thought I'd say those words before. Not even in my mind. Copying Sylvia. Funny how things change.

"Why do you say that?"

"Can't you see it?" She puts her stick out, pressing it against the tray beside her. "He has to have full control over any relationship. You can't state your opinion. Even if he agrees he'll argue against it. He has to make the first move. Like inviting you over or even fucking. He has to be the one to make the choice to do."

I take another drag from my cigarette. It's close to dark and I haven't sat down all day until now. Sylvia is sitting on her kitchen counter, smoking like a train. She's wearing a skirt that's too short and I can see her lacy black underwear underneath. I'm reporting information to her and she's intently listening to my story.

It's a wonder I'm here, sitting in her kitchen, smoking with her. Dally always told me to stay away from Sylvia. 'She's messed up. Crazy. Don't go near the stupid bitch.' I always listened, seeing how she was never my favorite person either, but now, sitting here, I see her human side. The one everyone tries to say she doesn't have.

"He ever do that to you?" she asks. "This one time, I remember, I was so fucking horny. I would have fucked Buck's Golden Retriever if be it. So I sneak up to Dally's room, you know, all sexy. I didn't even put panties on."

I press my back against the sharp side of the counter and slowly release the smoke from my mouth.

"I wore a real tight dress," she goes on. "See through. He was sleeping so I thought I'd wake him up gently. I eased his pants down to his ankles and started to suck on him hard when he jerked up and shoved me off and I hit the ground."

I start to get uncomfortable hearing this conversation.

"He was so mad at me," she says, a hint of anger in her voice. "He told me never to touch him again that way even though he's the one who made me do it and taught me how. You know, I could never move when we were having sex? Yeah, I couldn't. He'd make me stay still. He tied me up a few times."

I shouldn't believe her. I know that but all I can do is stand and listen to this story that keeps getting more interesting.

"I was like a toy to him," she says. "He'd put me on a shelf whenever he wanted to. Bastard. You know I could never wear heels either? It made me taller than him. He would leave me home if he saw them on my feet."

My cigarette's gone but I'm too afraid to ask for another one. I went through five on the way over here just to stop the crying and set my nerves right and make me less angry.

"Has he ever done any of that to you?"

"No."

"Really?"

"Nope."

She crosses her legs properly and stares at me. She presses her lips together and lifts her nose up in the air. "Lucky you then. Must of really loved you then. Or me. I'm betting on you though."

She acts like she's mad at me now, turning her head the opposite direction. I feel upset she won't look at me or tell me more stories. I want to hear more from her because I just like hearing her voice. It's making me feel better.

"On his birthday I wasn't allowed to give him a gift." I've caught her attention and she turns back and listens. "I thought that's just what everyone says, you know. So I surprised him with a party. It was just a few people. All his friends at my house. I even baked him a cake. He didn't stay for five minutes."

I've drawn her back in. She raises her eyebrows, interesting in my tale. "What happened?"

"He got upset I did it. He wouldn't even open the gift I got him." I take a deep breath and close my eyes. "I chased after him. He was on the porch. He yelled at me in front of everyone and really embarrassed me. He wouldn't talk to me for a few days. Then he called for me to come over and gave me a cupcake."

She starts cackling. She's not hiding the satisfied look on her face. She throws her head back and claps her hands. "A cupcake? A fucking cupcake?"

"I guess it was his way of saying sorry."

She's still laughing. She can't stop and tears are even coming out of her eyes. "I woulda' shoved the fucking thing in his fat face! How ignorant is that? After you went to all that trouble?"

I shrug and lean back against the counter. I didn't tell her the whole story of what happened. Of how later I found out he wasn't upset about the party but because his step mother had called him, hassling him about coming to town because his father was sick. I think it was mainly because neither one of them acknowledged his birthday.

"He actually tried to blame you for the break up?" She brings the subject back up because she got a kick out of it before. "Man, that's messed up. He's the one who told you to leave but he wants you waiting right where he left you when he gets back. I've been there before."

I press my lips together and smell the new smoke coming from her cigarette. "Let's get out of here."

Her lips spread out wide. "You got it, Curtis."

Sylvia is on the ground, laying out, showing off everything, and giggling. She doesn't care that everyone around us can see her panties, and that the guy making her laugh has a girlfriend. She doesn't have a care in the world right now.

I'm sitting on the ground too, smelling the smoke and watching her intently. It's hard not to.

Sylvia is beautiful whether she's smiling or not. She's flawless. Her face is clear, teeth white, body perfectly curved. Her only flaw is how skinny she's gotten. I can really see it now that I've been around her more.

I also noticed she's a lot like Angela, amongst other things. Sure, Angela wasn't like Sylvia in some ways, but they did resemble each other. They could be so carefree despite what was going on around them, yet, so sad other times. They hid their feelings well. The way they laughed was the same, the way they loved their bodies, the way they loved males and male attention.

I take another puff when the joint is passed over to me, taking in more this time.

I don't know anyone here. I know of them, I've just never talked to them before. They're Sylvia's friends. Mine are at home, probably in bed right now.

Darry is probably asleep in his hospital bed and Soda is probably staying there until morning and Pony is probably somewhere where he doesn't have to focus on the emptiness of the house, much like what I'm doing right now.

I doubt Pony has a joint in his hand though.

"Are you havin' fun, Curtis?" Sylvia sits up, grinning at me.

The guy beside her has his hand so close to her crotch. I almost think they're fooling around. I steer my eyes away from down there. "Yeah."

"Aren't the boys here cute?" she asks, nudging me with her elbow as she winks with a boy across from us. "That's one thing Dallas Winston did for me. He got me noticed."

"What do you mean?"

She waves a little at the boy, ignoring the one beside her. "Do you not see all these guys checking you out?"

I hadn't noticed anyone check me out in a long time. To be honest, I wouldn't know if they were or not. Every girl knows when a boy looks at you but when I was with Dally, boys were scared. They ran from me, not that there were many looking anyway.

"They know who we are," she says proudly. "They hear we've been with Dallas Winston and they know exactly the kinds of girls we are. He's created a reputation for us, Curtis. Might wanna get used to it."

I look at her, puzzled. Dally and me were never open with anyone about what we did, when we did it. People in this town didn't know who I was and the kind of girl I was on dates.

But as I look around and see the faces of the boys, I see that they are looking, and they're grinning. Did Dally create a reputation for me? Is that what I'm known as now - the girl who dated Dally? What does that say about me? Does it say anything? What about Sylvia? Am I like her now? We are nothing alike...are we?

"But they don't know-"

"They do." She poses a little, making sure the boy she's after sees her and her figure and everything else. "Everyone knows. You can't date Dally and not have sex. It's like the Scarlet Letter. You're labeled now. Get used to it."

I ignore the fact that Sylvia just made a book reference and made it right, and I stare at everyone here. There are way more boys than girls and she's right, they're all looking at us. I've seen that look, the smile, the devilish look in their eyes.

Is this how Sylvia became who she was? She dated Dally so she was automatically assumed to be a slut and a bitch? Why do people think that? Sure, I thought it myself, but why? Sandy cheated on Soda just like Sylvia did to Dally. Yet, no one ever viewed her as a slut or a whore even though she was pregnant.

A reputation makes us who we are. It's like Sylvia says, we have a label now and we can't take it off.

Sylvia nudges me again, only a little harder. "It'll make you feel better. Grab a boy."

I don't want to. I don't like that they are looking at me. I don't like the goofy grins they all have on and the way they wink at me when I make eye contact with them. They don't know me. They don't even know my name.

I think about what Dally's doing now. I want him to be at home, locked in his room, but I know that's not true. I can think what I said hurt him all I want. I still know the truth.

I shake my head. I didn't come here to think about Dally. I came here so I wouldn't. It seems like wherever I go, he's always there following me.

After a while, Sylvia's gone. I didn't look for her. Instead, I stand under a tree with some other girls who are here alone too. I don't catch their names because I don't care to though they seem interesting in talking to me.

They talk about the guys here and Sylvia and how she's probably having sex for the third time tonight.

The reputation thing works with girls too. It's something Sylvia left out but I can figure it out myself. These girls I'm with, they're only talking to me because they want information out of me. Information about Dally. They whisper about me when I leave and they stare, judging and watching my every move so they can go back to school and tell everyone what I did or they'll lie and tell everyone something I didn't do just to make me sound worse.

I've seen it done before.

To Angela.

My eyes start to sting from tears as I find my way over to the beer. I just hold one. I don't open it.

I start to think of how I'm going to get home. I can't walk. I'm clearly in no condition and I don't want to leave this party alone. I think about talking to some kids from my class and maybe get them to give me a ride but I'm angry and scared.

I rub my eyes as some people come near me to get drinks. I turn and walk away from them, not wanting to talk to anyone else. I wonder if there's more pot anywhere. I probably don't need any more though.

"Why did you and Dallas break up?"

I must have heard that question fifty times tonight but I turn to the guy that asked it. He followed me and is sipping on his drink, not interested in it or getting drunk. He stares at me, intently waiting for my reply.

I wish I could say something simple when people asked me this - something that sounds interesting that will leave them satisfied and make more sense – 'he cheated on me, he hit me, he didn't love me anymore, I didn't love him anymore' - something other than the truth, the real truth that I can't say.

I sigh. "It just wasn't working out."

He accepts that answer, but like everyone else, he doesn't believe it. "I'm OG, by the way. We had biology together freshman year."

I nod though I don't remember him. "Hi."

"I've never seen you at one of these parties...or with Sylvia."

He's the first one to say this tonight even though I know people are thinking the same thing. "We're sorta friends." I turn my head, letting the wind hit me in the other direction so my hair covers up my view of him.

"I like your dress." I imagine he's viewing it right now, looking me all over. "It suits you."

It's Sylvia's. She insisted I wear something that showed a little more skin. It's too tight for me and I feel like my breasts are going to pop out any second. I guess that's why he likes it even though I just feel fat.

"Hey," he says politely. "You ok?"

"I just don't feel well. I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do next."

"I could take you home." He gets close to me and I can smell his cheap cologne. It makes my stomach turn even more. "I have a car. Or we could just crash here tonight. Go inside and get a bed or something."

I scoot over. "No. I'm sorry. I don't want to."

I expect him to ask again or even yell at me or call me a tease. I've seen this scene before with Angela but I've never had it happen to me but I'm sure this is how this works out.

"Come inside." Here is comes. "There's a phone. I can help you call a ride."

That's something different.

I look at him now and realize I do know who he is. How could you forget some guy that has longer hair than you do?

"Um, sure, thank you." I follow him inside the house.

"I'm worried about you."

She's clearly angry, with curlers in her hair and a scowl on her face. I jump in the car and she waits, staring at me as if wanting and explanation as to why she had to come all the way across town and pick me up in the middle of the night.

I press my face against the coolness of the window and try not to look at her face. "Thanks for coming."

She sighs loudly for emphasis of how angry and tired she is and cranks up the car. "That's not the problem. I'd drive to Mexico to get your butt if need be. It's you being high as a kite right now that bothers me."

"How'd you-"

"I'm no moron," she says loudly and pulls out. "I know what 'high' looks like. I've been there. Don't think I haven't."

I hug on to my knees to try and get warm. I look at myself from the side view mirror and try and make out how obvious I look before I go waltzing into my house. "Sorry I woke you up."

"I told you I don't care," she snaps again. "I'm glad you did call me. What I want to know is why in God's name are you at this party wearing that and stung out on pot!"

I look down at my dress and struggle to pull it down. I rub my head, realizing how tired I am. I wish she'd stop nagging me like she's my mother or sibling. This is something I'd expect Darry or Soda to do to me. I wonder why I just didn't call them.

"I'm sorry," I say again. "I just needed to have some fun. Everyone does it, Jennie. You said you did yourself at one point. I'm careful. Trust me - you don't need to worry about me any."

She stops talking for a little while and turns on the radio. It seems like it's taking an eternity to get to town. I dig in my purse and get my cigarettes out.

"No," she says as I put my lighter up to my smoke. "Danni I'll kick you out of this car."

"It's just a cigarette."

Her hands tighten the wheel. The veins are popping out of her hands. She keeps her eyes on the road and nothing else, not wanting to make eye-contact. The longer she doesn't speak, the more of a chance she'll have of cooling off.

Jennie reminds me more of Darry than Soda the way she's always like a parental figure. I guess she didn't choice that role but then, Darry didn't either. Kathy reminds me more of Soda than Darry. I never understood why they ended up with the people they did. I pictured them the other way.

I twist the stick about in my fingers and wish I was holding something different. I think about the nights I spent watching Dally smoke and how strong it smelt and how I begged him to stop and would often leave because of how much I disliked the smell. I swore to myself I'd never see what was so great about weed.

I still don't think I do.

I exhale. The car fills up with smoke. "Angela taught me how to smoke pot. She did it. I just watched. You have to hold it in for eight seconds. Let it soak in I guess. Never asked."

She rests her head on her hand and focuses on the road. The rain is coming down harder now and I focus on Jennie's wipers. The speed, the landing, the water they miss. I intently focus on them.

The country music blasts through the side of the car and my ears start to ring as I can feel my body vibrating. Jennie taps her finger on the wheel, still trying to drive her attention elsewhere. I can see just by her motions how she's feeling. There are a lot of things I know about Jennie. Things I've noted about her.

"You love my brother?" I ask out of the blue, wanting her to talk to me.

She taps harder against the leather on the wheel. "Yeah."

I study the drawing on the dashboard. It's a heart with an 'I' and a 'you' surrounding it and little hearts cover the rest of the space. It's blue and crooked. In the open glove compartment are the crayons and a coloring book.

"Your babies are going to be beautiful, like you and your sister." I pick up the piece of paper that was drawn on. "'Cept I think they'll have brown hair, like Soda. Do you ever think about that? What your babies will look like? I have mine before."

She looks over this time, studying the paper. Her face softens a little. "She drew that for me. She said it was Mommy."

It's a blonde lady. She has flowers in her hands and a pretty pink dress on. "She looks like you."

I do know a lot about Jennie. Jennie is my friend and as my friend, there are things about her that I know that Soda doesn't. I feel guilty for saying that but it's true. Jennie doesn't talk about her past. I noticed that a long time ago. I didn't find out until a few months back just exactly why she doesn't and why her sister lives with her.

It's silent for a while except for the radio and the rain. The smoke's seeping out Jennie's cracked window.

"Did you talk to Sarah today? She came in the diner yesterday lookin' for ya."

I regret not talking to her more like I should. I've been ignoring her lately. "No."

It's quiet again. She cranks the radio up more and ignores me.

We stop and she unbuckles her seat-belt. "You can stay here tonight. Darry's at the hospital and Soda's with him and Pony's at Sarah's with Johnny. Just be quiet while I pay the babysitter. Susie's probably asleep and I can't take her waking up. I'm too tired to talk tonight. We can tomorrow. I need to talk to you."

It's cold outside and in her room. She finally got out of Buck's and moved across the street into a bigger place. It isn't in the best of conditions and you can always hear the Chinese couple next door fighting. Jennie makes only a little money to support both her and her sister and I think Soda helped out for the apartment but never said and never will.

I sit down on the sofa and Jennie turns on the television. She goes into the bedroom and brings out a bundle of clothes. "Go shower and wash your hair."

I stare at the warm clothes in my hands. "Why?"

"Danni just do it. I'll fix the couch up for you."

I stand up, take the clothes, and walk to the bathroom. "Jennie?"

She sighs and unfolds a blanket. "What?"

"Thank you. You're...you're a good friend, and I'm sorry I'm not a better one."

Do you have a light? Can you make me feel alright? There's plenty of light to go around. Do you think it's right when you hit me to the ground? Well, light me up when I'm down. Light me up when I'm down.

A/N: Sorry this doesn't have much going on. The next chapter has a little more. I promise.

Thanks for reading and please review!