Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders or the song "Lights".

I had a way then losing it all on my own. I had a heart then but the queen has been overthrown. And I'm not sleeping now the dark is too hard to beat. And I'm not keeping now the strength I need to push me.

Date night in Tulsa always goes off without a hitch. The boy comes by your place, hair fixed, smelling like his father. If you're lucky, he'll bring flowers. He parks in front of the house and goes up to the door, prepared for the ragging he's about to get from brothers, parents, etc. Whoever's around really.

He rings the door bell and stands with his hands behind his back, anxiously, and nervously waiting on who may open the door. He hopes for a lady but knows all too well that he's not that fortunate.

The father, or male guardian is the one who's supposed to open the door. As females in this equation, we try everything in power to not let that happen but it does, just like clockwork. We race to the door, always getting beat.

We can see the nervous beads of sweat start to form as the dominant male sniffs at his pray. There's nothing we can really do about this, just stand by and hope we didn't spend hours on our hair for nothing.

If all goes as planned, the head male will invite the date inside. This is the interrogation part of the night. All sorts of questions are asked and they go by so fast that you can't even think of a good answer yourself.

"What time will you have her home? Where are you going? Nice car. How long have you had your license? Ever been arrested? In trouble with law at any time in your life?"

For me, I get off easy. Darry's in the bathroom, upchucking tonight's chicken with a top of blood, and Soda's taking his role.

I've never been in this spot before, sitting back and having someone check out my date for me. Even Soda looks uncomfortable with the role but it's a written rule. The older brother always has to ruffle a few feathers before we can leave.

If you're lucky, you eventually are set free with a warning to be home by curfew.

"Sodapop seems like a pretty boss guy," Peter says, opening to door for me to get in his truck. "Too bad I didn't get to see my future cousin-in-law."

I climb in and straighten my skirt up. "Be careful what you wish for. You lucked-out getting Soda. Darry wouldn't let us leave so soon. If we were lucky, we'd get to see the rolling credits."

It's a cliché I've never been in. I've read about it in books. The guy holding open doors, complementing my outfit, and buying my way in and my food. I myself never believed in the clichés. They happen. I've just never been in one before.

Peter parks in the second row of the lot. It's Friday night and it's one of the best spots you can get. I've never actually been to a drive-in in a car. I'm used to sitting in the back on hard chairs with my legs cramped.

"You hungry?" he asks, getting out his wallet.

"Starved."

I never noticed how many people come here on Friday nights with dates. It seems like every girl that's here has their hands locked with a boy. No girl is by herself. No hand is alone.

Neither is mine.

I think it's a power thing to hold a girl's hand in public. It always seemed like the man led, pulling the woman behind him like some sort of dog. Like us, as girls, had to walk behind our man and we belonged to them.

I would be lying if I said I never dreamed about a moment like this. Girls looking at me, a boy holding my hand as we cross the lot. It was supposed to be romantic and sweet though, my hand just feels sticky and hot and this is uncomfortable and unnatural for me so I drop my hand back to my side.

"You like butter?"

I watch as he collects the coins in his hand. "You don't have to buy mine. I've got enough money."

He laughs, getting out enough change anyway. "Danni, it's a date. The guy is supposed to pay. It's some sort of law or something. At least that's what my dad's always telling me."

I couldn't picture his father. Peter was the perfect frame work of his mother and sister. He doesn't talk about his father too much and I wonder what he's like. Is he like Peter, handsome, smart, a little bit of dark side mystery?

There's a lot I haven't figured out about Peter. Why he hangs around people like Dale for starters. He's the pretty boy in their group. The kind that always stands out in a photo as being misplaced. I never asked him about it.

"Butter ok?"

I nod, still watching him and his observing his features. He has a couple scars on his face. Like he was badly beaten. That's what they are. I've seen scars like them before.

There's a necklace around his neck too that I've seen before. Same chain, same cross.

Peter carries the drinks away as I grab the popcorn. We walk across the gravel, running into people and saying hello. Peter more and me. He seems to know everyone here.

Then, while Peter has his head turned to another guy, I see them. Four boys walk through the walk way. Their jeans are gripped, hair full of grease. They walk with a type of swagger only they can pull off. You can smell this smoke from their cigarettes and hear their laughter as they round the corner to the food stand.

That's when one catches my eye.

He leaves the group, probably making up some lie about having to use to bathroom or go talk to someone. I know he's headed my way and though my stomach tells me to turn and leave, my feet don't move.

I already know what's on his mind by the time he reaches me. "Hey."

"I'm gonna go take a leak," Peter whispers in my ear as he leaves me. He doesn't notice who stands in front of me. He doesn't even see them.

I simply nod and he's gone.

"You need to leave."

I keep my eyes on Peter, watching him until he gets inside. I turn around back around. "Why? I'm not bothering anyone, Steve. It's a public place. I'm allowed to come here."

"No with him," he barks. "It'd be best for everyone if you just leave."

I look behind him at the three boys standing in a group, whistling and laughing like they are young teenagers again. It's a familiar picture. It's the same picture I saw over a year ago. It was a few months after my parents died. These three boys stood like this with my brothers, laughing and enjoying each other. It'd been over a year since I'd seen it.

"Does Soda know you're talking to me?" I ask, peering back around.

He scowls down at me. "No."

"I was here first you know," I inform him. "I can do what I want, Steve. I can go out in public with a guy if I want to. You can't control that. You're not my brother or father. I'm not leaving because you think it'll make someone uncomfortable."

"I'm telling you to leave," he says again. "I don't give a shit if I ain't your big brother. When the hell do you listen to them anyway? I'm telling you because I'm looking out for my friend. If you gave a shit at all you'd leave. Now."

I cross my arms over my chest. "I'm not looking to protect his feelings. His feelings mean nothing to me. He's nineteen years old and can take care of himself. I'm seventeen. You can't tell me what to do Steve."

"I can." He crosses his arms, giving me a threatening look. One he's used to, and good at. "It'd be best for everyone if you take that kid and get the hell outta here unless you want a scene and believe me, I'll start one."

I don't know who he thinks is going to back him up. From what I see, I'm not even being noticed. "I'm not leaving."

"Who is that anyway?"

"His name's Peter," I say. "He's my friend. Can you back off? This doesn't even concern you."

His eyes turn colors when he's angry. The brown color turns dark, almost completely black. "Oh it does."

"Steve-"

"There a problem?" Peter returns, looking as chipper as he was when he left. He looks from me to Steve, me to Steve.

Steve stares him down the same way he did me. The side of his upper lip goes upward, like he's laughing at how pathetic I seem to him. He turns back to me, pushing me to be the one to speak.

He's waiting. Watching me. Trying to get me to take Peter and leave because his friend his here. His friend who left me. His friend who lied to me for months. His friend who was once in love with me. I had to protect his feelings.

I grab Peter by the collar of his shirt. I pull him down to me, our lips touching. My tongue pushes against his closed lips until it enter his mouth. I keep going, keep pushing until I feel like it's enough and I can face who stands behind me again.

Peter looks at me. Steve is still watching over us when we part. His eyes are judging and cruel. I only look at Peter as I take his hand and begin to lead. "Everything's fine."

"You're sure?" he asks.

I set my eyes on Steve, the way he observes every move I make. His eyes trying to drill into me. Into my center. "Yeah. Hey, how about we get out of here, huh? I've already seen this movie anyway."

Peter's truck bounces on the bumpy road. We've been driving for twenty minutes, going up and down the road. There aren't many places to go in town other than the drive-in. The only noise is his motor and the low volume Elvis on the radio.

We haven't spoken since we got in the car. I have my head against the cool window, watching the lines on the road as we pass them over and over again. I can feel him staring at me, wondering in his head what he did that made me want to leave and not speak to him. He's going over everything he said to me in the past hour.

"Was that him?"

"Who?"

"Dally."

I lift my head off the sticky window and look at him. He's watching the road, only one hand on the wheel. "No."

He only nods and turns the radio up a little more. I still watch him. His leg is nervously bouncing. His smile vanished a long time ago and hasn't returned. I notice the distance between us in the truck as opposed to what it was on the way there.

"Should I take you home?"

I flatten out the end of my skirt. I fold little pieces of the end fabric around the flowers. "No. I don't want to go home."

We keep driving. There's no talk of where we will go. There's no asking about what happened and why we had to leave. Peter just keeps driving down an empty road with one-headlight until we come to a stop.

"C'mon." He puts the truck in park and gets out, making the door squeak.

I do the same thing, slowly getting out and fixing my skirt. He doesn't say anything as we walk across wet, dewy grass. I don't know where we are and I wonder if he even does or if we are just walking. There is not talking on this walk though. Just angry stomping and heavy breathing.

The grass stops and I can see light. I can see the water of the pool.

"Peter..."

He's sitting on one of the lawn chairs, smoking. He's staring out into the cool, blue water, not speaking. He looks like Darry in this light. What he once looked like. So confused and angry. He looks old and mature.

I go and sit beside him and watch.

"You don't have to keep fixing your skirt," he finally says softly. "I know why you do it. You don't have to."

Bugs are making noise in the background. It's so quiet that I can hear the water move in the pool. The April night air is warm. It's the first warm night in months. Peter's no longer looking at me or anywhere near me. He's looking off into the distance, more interested in his cigarette than anything.

I feel the need to leave. To go back home and forget Peter. Forget the first kiss we shared and the last. Forget his name, forget what he looks like, forget the way I felt about him, the connection we so easily share. Go to school and ignore him, just like I do everyone else. Just become another face in the crowd as always.

But there's something in my head screaming at me - Look at yourself. Why are you so scared? Stop being paralyzed. Who gives a shit about Steve and what he says? Who gives a shit about what anyone says? Stop caring about what people think. Wear what you want. Go out when you want. Like who you want.

When are you going to realize you can finally do whatever the hell you want?

I stand up. He doesn't see me or look over.

I walk across the concrete and over to the water. I slip my shoes off and dip one toe in. Just one. The water is warm, just like the air. It's fresh and bug free. It's clean and neat.

I shimmy my skirt down my legs, then kick it to the side. I don't look behind me at Peter. I can still smell his smoke.

I lift my arms high and pull my shirt over my head, taking out the pins Kathy so nicely put in. I throw my shirt to my skirt and take out the pins that are left. I let my hair fall so it touches my bare back.

The first step in is the hardest. The cold water sends cold chills all over. Goose bumps start to appear on my arms and legs.

I close my eyes when I'm up to my waist.

I felt the warmth of his lips as they filled my entire body. The single touch made me turn red all over. I was kissing Dallas Winston. The Dallas Winston.

I opened my hand and looked at the metal jewelry that laid in it. My eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. "A class ring?"

"Who is he?"

"He's my brother."

My face swelled up from the tears that didn't stop. I heaved for a breath. "I love you." My body shook again and mounds of tears ran down my face. "God, Dally, I love you."

He rose up, his eyes meeting mine again. His hand ran through my hair and he grabbed another fist full and held it. I shut my eyes and breathed out slowly. He let go and pressed his thumb against my lips. "God, Curtis...God."

"I love you, Curtis. Alright? I love you!"

"I killed that Soc kid, Curtis. I killed him dead."

He grinds his teeth together, scowling at me and scowling hard. "I'd do anything for you and you knew that!"

My head goes under and I stay there. I can't hear anything under here. Not the bugs, not Peter, nothing. I'm alone.

We all want to be someone different. We want to change the way we think. We change our hair, clothes, and bodies. Anything we can so that it doesn't remind us of the past. The problem is putting those Band-Aids on old wounds. Old wounds can't heal without a little change. And you can't change your outer shell until you change your inner self.

I can see Peter's body on the surface as he stands over the edge, watching me.

I slowly rise up to the top, meeting him.

"Are you fucking insane?" he screams it loud. "It's April. That water is like forty degrees! Get out of there before you catch something!"

"Get in."

His eyes almost shoot out of his head. "I repeat - are you fucking insane?"

"Please?" I softly beg. "It's not cold. Please get in, Peter. I promise."

He takes a minute to gawk at me before throwing his hands up in the air and walking over to where my clothes are. I swim over to him and lean on the edge as I watch him remove all his clothes but his white boxer shorts.

He yelps as his feet hit the water. He presses his lips together and bares the pain and gets deeper and deeper in until he's up to his waist. He shakes, holding himself tight.

"Go under," I say.

He shakes his whole body. "No way!"

It takes me a minute to reach him. I put my hand on his stomach, feeling how cold his body is. Our skins touch. Our body heat hits each other and it's warm for a minute. It's almost better.

He watches me. He watches as my head looks up at him and my lips just barely brush up against his and then go back with more force, more power. It warms our bodies. The shivers stop and we're warm.

"You shouldn't have let him do that," he says, breaking up the kiss. "You shouldn't care about what he thinks."

I run my hand down the small of his back. "What do you think of me?"

He sighs, then takes a deep breath. "I think you're real pretty." His hands touch my back, tickling me along my spin. "I think you're strong-willed and opinionated, which isn't a bad thing. I think you're smart and I like the way you read. You're not afraid of anyone or anything. I think you've been through hell and back. I think you're stronger than you act."

I can't touch the bottom of the pool. Peter has a hold of me, carrying me. "I'm sorry I ruined our date like I did. I just...it was best if we left. For the both of us."

"I think I like this better anyway." He kisses the top of my head, right at my hairline. "You deserve someone better than that. Someone who'll treat you better. You're beautiful Danni. You're curves, words, flaws thoughts. You're perfect."

"You don't know me," I whisper on his lips. "How do you know that I am?"

He spins me around the pool slowly and gently. "I've seen you and spoken to you. I can tell just by the way you talk, the way you act. I can tell by the way I kiss you. You're special."

His arms hold me. He hugs me. "You deserve someone better than me, you know. Someone who can give you everything because I don't know if I can. I don't know if I can care about you the way you care about me."

"I want you to," he breathes out. "Do you want to? Want to try?"

"I think I like you," I admit. "I think I can really like you, Peter."

His lips touch my neck. He breathes out slowly, tickling me. "I can help you. I can fix you. Give me a chance."

I laugh out a little. "There's a lot. I hope you're prepared for this battle."

"I think you might be worth it, Danni dear." He pulls me off his chest so I can see his eyes and he can see mine. "Don't think you're not. I can protect you, Danni. I care about you. I really do. I have since that day at the pier."

I kiss him softly. I want Peter. I want his offer. It's an old story line. A strong knight coming in on a white horse and saving the princess form the evil monster that has her captive. It's used time and time again as a common cliché.

It seemed to end well for the princess. Why not me? It's a change. Isn't that what this story is all about?

"I think I like you too," I say quietly. I run my hand down his smooth chest. His flawless chest. His scar-free chest. "I'm willing to make this work. I want to be with you. I want to be a couple. I want to be happy...with you."

He brushes my hair out of my face. His eyes glow as the water reflects off them. "Then be with me. Be my girl, Danni."

My mouth waters and I begin to sweat. I can't fight off the urge to grab him and kiss him. I want him to be rough with me and take control and force me to kiss him. I want his body on top of mine. I want him.

I kiss him, barely touching his lips. "You're in for battle, Peter. A hell of a battle."

He grins. "It's one I'm willing to fight."

It's ten-thirty. Peter has me home half an hour early. Soda is still out and Pony's passed out asleep on the couch along with Kat. They both had Darry duty tonight. It was a two man job these days.

"Darry..." I peel the door open to a crack. "Can I come in?"

He's cuddled up in his bed reading another book Pony let him borrow. Darry has finally realized why Pony likes that stuff so much. What with being bed bound, there aren't many options on how to spend your day. It's a different reality for him to be in for a little while. Be in someone else's life instead of the fucked-up one you're currently living through day by day.

"Sure. How was your little date?"

I can tell by his tone he isn't too stoked to hear.

I crawl across his bed and lie beside him and rest my head on his chest like I used to do when I was a kid. "Good."

He smirks. "You know, cats do this same thing at hospitals around the sick. You haven't lied on me like this in years. Don't tell me it's because I'm sick because I swear I'll throw you off of here in a heart beat, kiddo."

"It's not." I sneer. "It's only because you smell nicer than you normally do."

"Ha. You gonna tell me about this guy or am I gonna have to send my spies out?"

All his spies were at the movies tonight. They were already two-steps ahead of him. "He's Kathy's cousin, you know. I met him at the beach. He's nice. He's really smart. He's in all honors classes at school."

He laughs a little at that. "That's a change."

"Going from a dropout to a boy wonder, huh?"

It's quiet for a little while. I can here Pony get up from the couch and go into the kitchen to get into the cookies Kathy made. Darry and I both listen to him and the bugs hitting the screen window.

"She doesn't have morning sickness, you know."

It's been only a few weeks since Kathy made her announcement. It's not mentioned. Kathy doesn't say anything, and Darry doesn't get many words in between barfs. Some days I think he knows and then, on others, I don't think he has a clue. It's like he's holding on to this as some sort of hope and motivation. This baby that's not real.

"You think I'll make a good dad?"

I nod, playing along with this game Kathy has started for us. "Yeah. You got enough practice in with us over the years. I think you'll be a great dad, Dar. You and Kat will make good parents."

"She reminds me of Mom," he says quietly. "She's so calm through this whole mess full of shit. When she's not working double shifts, she's right here with me on the bathroom floor. I don't know why she puts up with me."

I snuggle into his chest. "You can't lose her again. I don't think I have enough energy to go back to Florida and get her. I sure don't have the patience for it."

He laughs, making his chest rise up and then back down. He pauses in-between to cough. "I'll try not to."

"You really love her?" I ask. "She's about the only girl you've ever dated."

He shrugs, leaning up and getting a sip of water to clear his throat. "I had some girls I went out with. Just nothing serious. I didn't need to date anymore. I guess I knew in High School I loved her. Didn't really realize it until she came back."

"But how did you know?" I ask. "You never got to compare her to anyone else."

"I just knew, Dan," he says. "Sometimes you just know... Do you like this Peter guy?"

I nod slightly. "I think I do."

"Good," he says, emphasizing it. "'Least this one won't keep me awake at night wonderin' what shit he'll pull next."

"He wasn't that bad to me," I tell him. "Why did you hate him so much?"

He shakes his head. "He made you cry a lot. You may not remember all the times like I do, but he did. You're my kid sister. It's my job to kill who ever does that to you. It just pissed me off."

"Am I the reason you guys aren't friends anymore?"

He shakes his head again as he drowns his water down. "We're still friends, I guess. I'd take a bullet for the stupid kid, but he needs to grow up. He's not just some teenager with a record anymore. He ain't goin' anywhere and that's what bothers me. Just some guy running through life until one day, life takes him out. I didn't think he'd make it this long. Guess you're the reason for that though."

It's a thought I'd had myself. I couldn't say there were nights where I didn't lie asleep just hoping and praying I didn't get a phone call the next morning saying he was shot or stabbed. There were a lot of sleepless nights.

"You seem happy." He strokes the top of my hair. "Are you?"

"Yeah," I admit. "I'm a lot better... Are you?"

"I'm tired."

I get up off his chest and sit on the bed. Darry doesn't look the same anymore. He looks older. He no longer has a crisp tan. He's pale and thin and tired looking. We don't look at Darry too much. It's just a daily reminder of worry and stress of something none of us can control or prevent. This is Darry's battle, not ours. We can't fight it for him.

He has his eyes shut, calmly breathing. "Dar?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you ever gonna marry Kathy?"

His lips curl and he smirks with closed eyes. "Go to sleep, Danni." I smile, already knowing the answer. I slip down off the bed and go to the door. "Dan, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why is your hair soaking wet?"

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone. You shine It when I'm alone. And so I tell myself that I'll be strong. And dreaming when they're gone. 'Cause they're calling, calling, calling me home. Calling, calling, calling home. You show the lights that stop me turn to stone. You shine It when I'm alone.

A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review! :)