So, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this chapter. I've already written it twice now, and out of the two versions, this one is so much better. I would rewrite it again, but I don't feel like that would help my case anyway. Oh, by the way, I hope you're all ready because her life is about to get stressful. :) I hope you're all as excited as I am!

I'm sorry that this chapter is short compared to the last one!


Douglas drops me off, and as soon as my feet hit the concrete and his door is shut, he speeds off – not even bothering to see if I make it safely into the house. Mom and Dad were too eager to let me come to Evie's house for a sleepover, but once I told them she wasn't as bad as Imogene initially thought, they eased up a bit.

It only took a couple more times of asking that they finally agreed.

My heart is pounding hard against my chest; my knees feel like they're going to give out on me. As I step closer to the house, the urge to throw up grows stronger, but why am I so nervous? Evie's my friend.

Surely it's all relating to Steve.

But, Sandy's going to be here, and that thought alone provides a little reassurance that nothing bad is going to emerge.

Without realizing it, I arrive at the front door. Hesitantly, I reach forward, knocking as loudly as I can. My nerves are running high as I settle back on my feet, and for a split second, I'm petrified that I'm at the wrong house.

Moments later, Evie's older sister, her other sister, opens the door.

Like Evie, her sister is absolutely gorgeous. She has dark brown hair that falls to the middle of her rib cage, and her green eyes twinkle happily. She doesn't look like a typical greaser girl. But, nonetheless, her appearance makes me feel a little self-conscious about myself, and I'm desperate for when I can get out of her sight.

She stares at me, and although we've never met, she allows her perfect, white smile to grace her face. "I'm guessing you're Eileen, Evie's friend?" She questions. Weakly, I nod my head, averting my eyes downward, focusing on my shoes. "I'm Amelia, Evie's oldest sister. I'll let her know you're here. Here, come on inside." Amelia steps out of the doorway, wandering off to wherever.

Shutting the door behind me, I wait silently for my friend. From their living room, Evie's mom greets me; I respond with a mere wave, and despite the fact that she seems content with my response, I swear at myself for being so shy.

Evie comes running into the entryway moments later with Sandy trailing behind her happily. "Eileen!" Evie cries, wrapping her arms around me tightly when she reaches me. "It's about time you got here!" Sandy smiles, showing off her teeth and nodding her head in agreement.

"Hi, Guys." I greet, giving them a softer and calmer smile. Evie pulls away from me, grinning, and reaches for my pillow and overnight bag.

"We're going to have so much fun tonight, Ladies," Evie declares, holding my pillow underneath her arm. She slings my backpack onto her shoulder and turns on the ball of her right foot. "We're going to have so much fun tonight that it's going to drive our boyfriends wild when we don't tell them a thing." Sandy giggles quietly to herself before following our friend.

Evie leads us into another room, and off the kitchen is a door. My mind wanders, wondering if Evie's room is through that door, and when it is, I'm a bit amazed. I've never seen anything like this, and with as much as I like food, it's one of the coolest things I have ever seen.

She pushes the door open, and honestly, the interior of Evie's room surprises me.

Her walls are pink, and several posters of boys I don't recognize clutter the walls; above her beds are pictures of her and her friends and the picture of her and Steve makes me a bit uncomfortable. Deep inside, I hope, pray and plead that nothing happens tonight that will permanently ruin our friendship.

Evie tosses my stuff onto her bed alongside Sandy's before turning to address both of us. With a growing smile on her face, she asks if we're ready to continue the conversation they were having. I look at her in confusion; Sandy laughs quietly. "We were talking about boys before you came, Eileen." Evie shares, taking a seat on her floor. Sandy follows her lead, but I remain on my feet.

"Come on, Eileen," Sandy says, patting the floor beside her. "You don't have to be shy." I feel a little awkward knowing that I am, no doubt, about to talk about my boyfriend with one of his ex's. Evie grins, knowing exactly what's going through my head.

"Eileen," she begins. "I don't understand why you're still awkward around me when the idea of Steve is mentioned. I'm with Brian, and besides, you two are way cuter than we ever were. I think you two are meant to be." I feel myself doing a double take, making sure I heard her correctly. Evie notices and starts to laugh hard.

But inside, I realize how big of her that was.

In past times, I've heard my sister mutter rude things about girls that her crush hangs around or dates; once, she even told me how ugly she thought he looked with one of his girlfriends.

To hear Evie say this is big, and I can't believe my ears. And finally, I don't feel nearly as awkward as I had felt before.

Without even realizing it, I feel myself relaxing.

It's nearly 9:30 when Evie proposes that we sneak into the kitchen to steal some ice cream. Sandy agrees immediately, and I find myself struggling to contain my excitement. Sandy leads the way, leaving me to believe that she's been here more times than she can count, and once we're in the kitchen, Evie heads for their chest freezer. "I don't think my mom will mind that some ice cream is missing," She pulls the top up, reaching inside and pulling out a giant tub of chocolate ice cream. "We might not have a lot of money, but my mom never cheats us out of ice cream." She turns towards me, winking.

I feel myself wanting to drool. Mom never buys us ice cream, and now that there's an entire tub sitting in front of me, I want nothing more to do than curl up on something comfortable and devour the whole thing.

Evie places it gently on the counter before pulling open a cabinet. Inside, a stack of bowls sits perfectly, and as carefully as she can, Evie pulls three out. Sandy takes the liberty to grab the spoons, and before I know it, we're all crowding around the tub, eager to fill our bowls with the creamy goodness.

I know that ice cream isn't exactly healthy for a person's body, and there's a slight change I might have ignored this fact when I was scooping my ice cream into my bowl. I take more than Sandy and Evie, and when they seem how much I have, they start laughing – hard. "Holy shit, Eileen," Evie laughs. "It's like you ain't never had ice cream before." I stick a spoonful into my mouth, wearing a smile showing them I don't regret how much I grabbed.

"My mom never buys my family ice cream," I explain, wiping the corners of my mouth. "So, I'm taking full advantage of it while the opportunity still hangs in the air." Sandy continues laughing while Evie playfully rolls her eyes.

Once we have all the ice cream we want, we head back to Evie's room. We spend the rest of the night gossiping, talking about boys and playing childish, middle school games.

Nonetheless, the whole night is nothing but fun.

XxXxXxX

Despite the various protests and complaints from Sandy and Evie, I walk home by myself the next day. I'm sure Steve wouldn't be too happy if he knew what I was doing, but seeing as how I have no other means of transportation, I have to take what I can.

Prior to my departure, I called my house. Imogene answered, and when I asked her to come pick me up, she told me that she was home alone and without a car.

I reach my house around 6:00, and as it was when I called half an hour ago, Imogene is still the only one home.

Inside, I can hear her rumbling through stuff in the kitchen. "Imogene, I'm home." I announce, shutting the door quietly. She doesn't answer me, so I set my stuff down gently before going to greet her face to face.

She sets a handful of cookies down gently on the counter, and right away, something seems off with her. "Hey, where is everyone?" In response, she merely shrugs, picking up a cookie. Imogene bites into it silently – slowly – and her odd behavior is starting to scare me. "What's wrong?" I question, searching her face for any indication. "You don't look like you're feeling right."

"Eileen, there's something we need to talk about," she shares quietly. "I think you should probably take a seat too." I follow her suggestion, taking a seat at our table. Imogene starts towards me at a slow pace, and once she reaches me, Imogene takes a seat too.

"Will you tell me what's going on because you're really starting to scare me." I watch my sister, waiting for her next action. Before she tells me what's going on, she takes another bite of her cookie. For a second or two, I wonder if she's wondering how to break whatever news she has to tell me.

"I think something's wrong with Steve," she begins. Part of me wonders why she cares about Steve, but before I have time to dwell on it, Imogene continues. "He called the house a couple times earlier, asking for you, but he didn't sound right." My heart drops into my stomach; I will myself not to start freaking out until I find out what's actually wrong rather than relying on conclusions I'm jumping to. "He wants you to call him as soon as you can. I don't think you should leave him waiting any longer." I thank her quickly before leaping up and racing to the phone.

Without thinking of the possibility of his father answering, I dial Steve's home phone.

On the fourth ring, someone answers – Steve answers. For the most part, his voice sounds normal, and I'm trying my best to keep my voice stable. "S-Steve, hey, what's g-going on? What's w-wrong?" I stop myself, taking a deep breath and attempting to calm myself down before I get too worked up.

Steve sighs loudly, and through his voice, I can hear how shaky his breathing is.

"L-Listen, Eileen, m-meet me in the p-park in 10 m-minutes, okay?" Before I have a change to answer, Steve hangs up, and I can feel myself wanting to panic.

His voice was nothing but emotionless, and although there's nothing to base my thoughts on, I can tell this conversation isn't going to be fun.

And the more I dwell on what's to come, the more noticeable the knot in my stomach becomes.

While still trying to make sense of the situation, I stalk off to the front room, telling Imogene where I'll be before heading out.

Surely this isn't going to be a good nor fun conversation.

Aside from a couple children and their parents, hardly anyone is at the park. I take a seat at one of the many picnic tables, trying to keep my mind off what's possibly to come. It's been at least 15 minutes since our phone conversation, and Steve still isn't here. With each passing second, I strongly consider running away and feeding him a crappy excuse later.

But before I can act, Steve comes into view. I stare hard at him while slowly rising to my feet; something seems off with his appearance, but I can't put my finger on it. He's seemingly incapable of walking in a straight line, and as he draws closer, I can tell instantly what's wrong.

His clothes are an absolute mess, there's not a trace of grease in his hair, and his clothes reek of alcohol. My nose scrunches in disgust, but there's not a doubt in my mind telling me that whatever has happened is more serious than I was preparing myself for.

I decide to remain rooted, and after a few moments, he makes it to my side. I focus my attention on him, trying my best not to double over and hurl due to how strong the alcohol scent on him is. It's incredibly difficult, but for the most part, I think I succeed.

He pushes his hair out of his face and fails to meet my eyes. "Steve, what's wrong?" I ask, swallowing hard. "Something's wrong. What's wrong?" Steve hesitates, and I can see his chest expand as he takes a deep breath.

"S-Soda's parents a-are de-dead." His voice cracks. His eyes swim in tears, and my heart stops, falling hard into my stomach. For a second, I think it's a joke, but when Steve finally meets my eyes, and when I see that he's on the verge of tears, I know it's nothing but true.

Honestly, I can't believe it.

"W-What?" I ask incredulously, hoping to remain strong for him. "How? They can't be. Steve, no, God, how? We just saw them last week!" Millions of thoughts are running through my head at the moment, and I can't think straight to save my life.

"I-I don't know!" Steve cries. His voice cracks once again, and a waterfall of tears rains down his cheeks. His rare display of emotion catches me off guard, but I do the only logical thing I can think of: wrap my arms around him.

Steve responds positively to my physical contact. He wraps his arms around me, burying his face in half of his arm and half of my shoulder. "Come on, let's go sit down." I suggest. As best as I can, I sit him down at the picnic table behind us.

Once I'm situated, I pull my arms away from him and opt to wrapping my arm around his shoulders instead. He lays his head on my shoulder, still silently crying. "Do you think you're capable of explaining everything you know to me?" I question softly, running my fingers through his soft hair. Steve whimpers quietly before launching into his story.

"I-I don't know," he begins. "La-last night they went out for d-dinner together. S-Soda said that it was 'r-round one o'clock, and th-they still weren't home. Then, the f-fuzz came over. S-Soda said that he told 'em that t-their car'd be hit by a t-train. Mrs C-Curtis was gone when ev-everyone arrived, and Mr Curtis died on the way to the h-hospital." I can feel his tears soaking into my blouse, and my heart breaks seeing him in such a vulnerable state.

I stare off into oblivion, doing the best that I can to calm and comfort Steve while struggling to wrap my head around everything that's occurred within his arrival. It still seems too surreal.

"Shh, Steve," I whisper, continuing to run my fingers through his hair. I close my eyes, proceeding to reassure that everything will be okay, but to no avail, it fails. Once again, my brain registers the stench of alcohol, and I can't help but voice my next question. "Hey, have you been drinking today?" He nods his head weakly, and with a forced chuckle, I lay my head on top of his. "I can tell. I smell the alcohol on your clothes."

"I spilt it on myself." Steve shares quietly, continuing to shed tears.

My mind wanders once the thought begins to sink in. Occasionally, I find myself thinking about Soda, Darry and Pony. If Steve is reacting this strongly, then I'd hate to see them. I sigh gently, freeing my hand from his hair. "It's going to be all right, Steve." I whisper, gently rubbing his back.

Until now, I never truly understood what it meant when they say people can be gone in a blink of an eye, and deep inside, my heart longs for Sodapop and his brothers.


I'm really nervous about this chapter, and even though Steve was drunk, I'm still afraid of his reaction to the news. Either way, I hope you guys liked this chapter, and if you did, please, don't hesitate to leave me a review. I love hearing from you guys, and I really appreciate the feedback. :)