Sixteen Candles
Chapter Nine

Author's Note: Lawdy, it's been forever! I've missed you all, and I hope you've all missed me too. :) I'm not going to give any excuses for not updating because I don't have any, and you already know that I'm having no desire to continue working on this story ((I still don't plan on discontinuing it. If anything, it'll go on hiatus!))

I guess I can tell you guys that I've been busy lately. I'm trying to figure out a phone situation. My birthday is coming up ((it's on the fifth of May. Anyone share a birthday with me!?)), and I'm trying to figure out what I want to do for that, and I'm trying to get a job. So, wish me luck for that? :)

Well, that's basically all that's been going on with my life lately. Onward to chapter nine. I hope you guys all enjoy it, and honestly, it's a filler chapter. I hope you don't find it too boring. If there's any mistakes, I'm offer you my sincerest apology. I'm too lazy to read over it, and it's been at least three weeks since I've touched this story.


He stuffs his face hungrily into a cheeseburger while I take in my surroundings nervously. I've never been to The Dingo before, and the group of greasers that are about to fight is making me terrified - really terrified.

I don't know what scares me more: the fact that Steve isn't too concerned or the fact that one of them has a blade in view.

I swallow nervously, anxiously wiping my palms on my skirt. "Steve, they're not going to hurt us, are they?" I ask weakly, keeping my eyes on the group. He looks towards them, and from the look in his eyes, I want to say he looks eager for what might be about to happen.

"We're gonna be fine," he answers, taking another bite of burger. "You sure you ain't hungry though?" He inquires through his food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full." I scold. Steve rolls his eyes, swallowing his food.

"Sorry, Mom," he mutters sarcastically. "I forgot my manners along with my bag of fucks to give." Beside us, a middle-age man along with a few waitresses run past the booth; the man screams angrily for the group of hoods to take their business outside before he calls the police.

They don't look scared at all, but nonetheless, they leave without making a scene. It shocks me.

Steve claps a couple bills onto the table, enough to cover the cost, before climbing out of the booth. I follow on his tail, eager to get out of the freaky atmosphere.

Even with Steve as my protection, I still don't feel comfortable inside the building.

XxXxXxX

Instead of taking me home, Steve takes me down the railroad tracks. I look around nervously, terrified with the different thoughts of how us being here can go wrong. "Why are we here?" I ask slowly, looking down the track.

Steve shrugs his shoulders.

"I dunno," he replies, pulling a cigarette from the pocket of his leather jacket. In his hand, coupled with the cigarette, sits a dark blue lighter. "Soda n I would come and play on the tracks when we were little. Then, some dumb ass kid got hit by a train. It killed him instantly, and once Mrs Curtis heard that, she decided to forbid us from comin' back." Steve sucks on his cigarette for a few seconds before pulling it from his lips. "We snuck down here a couple times." Steve continues; smoke billows out of his mouth. "Darry found us once and he bout knocked our heads together. He was pissed." Steve grins, sticking the cigarette out the window, freeing it from ashes.

"So, we're testing our luck?" Steve's eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. "I mean, you're not allowed to come down here, so you brought me here, so we can see if we get caught or not." He rolls his eyes once he realizes what I'm saying.

"No," he replies plainly. "Soda ain't allowed to come here, but the rule don't apply to me. C'mon, I want to show you somethin'." Steve pulls on the handle, letting the door swing open. Silently, he hops to the gravel below.

"If we get killed, I'm going to beat you up."

"You can't beat me up if you're dead, Stupid."

"My spirit can."

"You're nuts. C'mon, let's go." With a disapproving sigh, I follow Steve's lead.

"Now, where in the world did you get the impression that this was a good idea?" I ask, reaching for his extended hand. He merely smirks, pulling me onto the train tracks. "We're going to get hit."

"We ain't gonna get hit. Quit being dramatic."

"I'm not being dramatic. I'm being realistic. We're standing in the middle of train tracks, Steve. If you ask anyone with a brain, they're going to agree that we're asking to get hit." He rolls his eyes, drops my hand and starts following the tracks west. "Oh, great, Steve! Now, we're begging to be killed."

"Trust me, we ain't gonna get hit. S'long as you zip it so we can hear any train whistles, we'll be fine. I've only been doing this since I was like 12. I'm pretty much a professional at railroad walking."

"Sorry." I mutter, crossing my arms and watching my feet.

XxXxXxX

Finally, after what seems like hours, we make it to whatever destination Steve had in mind. After finally catching up to him, I realize he brought me to an abandon little shack. "How many little hideaways do you know about?" Steve turns around.

"More than you know, Doll Face." He winks. I roll my eyes, following him towards the building.

"This place doesn't look very stable and secure," I announce nervously. "It looks like it's going to fall down any moment." Steve merely shrugs.

"It's always looked like this," he reassures. "Ain't nothin' happened to it yet."

"Serious though, Steve. How do you know about this place?" He kicks the door in; to my surprise, it remains in tact and on its hinges.

"My old man use to be normal, believe it or not," he begins, stepping inside. "He use to work out here with my uncle. I ain't too sure what they did out here, but I dunno. It was pretty successful. Then, I was born, and some other things happened. Dad became an abusive asshole, and the place became a mess." Steve sighs, walking around the old place. "There's a path 'round here somewhere, but it's so overgrown that it was safer takin' the train tracks."

"It's kind of sad to see the building like this after hearing that story." I frown, looking around the small place.

"What the hell isn't sad nowadays?"

XxXxXxX

Miraculously, I'm the only one home when Steve drops me off around 5:00. It serves as a major shock. Usually, Douglas, Mom or Imogene is home by now. It's rare for the house to be completely empty at this time.

Instead of doing something my parents wouldn't approve of, I head straight for the dining room table, reluctantly starting my homework.

Before I have a chance to start, my sister comes storming into the kitchen.

"What's wrong with you?" I ask, busying myself with my algebra. Imogene groans loudly, throwing her purse onto the counter. She moves to the fridge, opening it and slamming it shut not even a second later. "God damn, Imogene. Chill out."

My eyes widen, and Imogene turns towards me slowly. She looks as shocked as I do, and it appears that, instantly, her previous anger has disappeared. Since we were little, my parents have continuously pounded the idea that swearing is bad into our heads. For the most part, their enforcement of straying away from the language has worked. Imogene and I are guilt-free of such profanity – no matter how simple the word is – but Douglas is more frequent. Although he remains clean around our parents, when they're out of sight, he doesn't hold anything back.

"You better not let Mom or Dad hear you speak that way, and I'll knock your head in next time I hear that kind of language." She half warns, half scolds. I nod, ultimately blaming Steve and his friends for the slip of the swear word. With each day, they're ruining my good girl image. I roll my eyes, attempting to brush off my initial shock; after all, it wasn't that big of a deal.

"It was an accident."

XxXxXxX

"Mom, Sandy wants to know if I can come over and spend the night," I announce, holding my hand over the bottom piece. "Can I?" She looks at me nervously.

"It's a school night, Eileen. I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"Mom, you use to let Jacquelyn and I do it all the time. I promise we'll go to bed at a decent time. I promise we'll make it to school on time. Besides, her parents are going to be there. I promise we'll be fine, Mom." She chews nervously on her lip, searching hard for the right answer. After a few seconds, she sighs loudly.

"I don't care, but you better not make me regret giving you permission."

"You won't." I smile victoriously, telling Sandy the final verdict. Once we hang up, I run off to my room, packing a bag as fast as I can. Within a few minutes, I'm finished and on my way to her house.

XxXxXxX

Sandy meets me at the end of her driveway; on her face, a smile ten miles wide is present, and to say I'm a little nervous is an understatement. I'm downright fearful, and nothing can prepare me for the news she's going to present to me.

"My parents are out of town for the rest of the week," she announces. "And my sister is staying the night at my aunt's. It's going to be you and me tonight. Are you excited?" Something tells me we're going to do something worthy of a lot of trouble. She grabs my backpack from me, looking at it in confusion. "Why'd you bring this and an overnight bag?"

"It's a school night."

"I planned on skipping, Eileen. My parents aren't going to be home. Your parents will have no way of knowing," she nudges me, wiggling her eyebrows. "Doesn't that sound like fun?

Inside, I know it's wrong. If my parents found out, there's no doubt that they'd kill me, but the longer I think about it, the more appealing it sounds. I've never skipped school, and if I'm being completely honest with myself, I've always wanted to try it. Besides, right now, none of my classes sound the least bit exciting. I start to smirk.

"Sandy, let's skip school tomorrow."

XxXxXxX

"Isn't this nice?" Sandy asks, carefully painting her nails. "It's 9:00 on a Wednesday night, and we don't have to listen to any parents tellin' us to go to bed. I don't know 'bout you, but I'm really enjoyin' this." I smile against my wishes, stuffing some popcorn into my mouth.

"This is nice," I answer, swallowing hard. "I hope this doesn't end up becoming a habit though. My parents would kill me, I'm sure." Sandy shrugs, pursing her lips.

"They'll get use to the idea eventually, and whether they want to or not, they'll accept it." She answers effortlessly. I roll my eyes at her response, sticking another piece into my mouth.

"I swear, all of you guys are bad influences on me," I add. "Earlier, I accidently said 'damn', and you know, my parents raised us to be proper and avoid swearing at all cost, and goodness gracious, my sister looked like she had witnessed someone die." Sandy snorts, oblivious to the fact that my story is a little dramatized.

"Compared to the stuff Steve and Dallas say, that's nothin'!" Sandy exclaims, holding her hand up. She examines her nails thoroughly, and when she's satisfied, she waits for them to dry.

"That's what I'm saying."

Sandy and I lounge around her house for the remainder of the night, snacking on anything we can find, and like any other teenage girl, gossiping about the latest things and cutest boys.

Nothing big and exciting happens, but nonetheless, I have a great time.


Bam. That's chapter nine! I hope you guys liked it, and please leave a review. I would love to hear what you guys think! As far as I remember, chapter 10 is more interesting, but nonetheless, please review. I really appreciate when you guys leave me feedback, and it helps me get an idea on what should happen next.

Do it for Johnny? :)