So, no one reviewed the last chapter or the chapter before that ((well, no one left a legitimate review for chapter 12)). That's really depressing, and if you are enjoying this story, please review. I really appreciate when you guys leave me feedback, and right now, I have no motivation to complete the next chapter. Whether you all realize it or not, your feedback really helps me. :)

But yeah, I'm really sorry for sounding like a whiny, ungrateful person, but please consider things from my point of view. It's not the best feeling in the world when you share things with other people, and they don't even tell you how it is. Please review?


Steve is still stuck in an emotionless trance on Monday morning, and all I want to do is see the Steve I'm so use to. "Cheer up, Sweetie," despite my initial thoughts on PDA, I wrap my arms around his waist, squeezing him gently. "It's rough, I know, but I promise it'll get better."

From what I know Soda and Ponyboy aren't at school, and I'm a little surprised Steve is even at school. Seeing the way their parents had bonded with the other boys made it clear to me that they were second parents too all of the boys – even proving to be the parents Steve, Dallas and Johnny lack.

He responds with a gentle sigh, returning my hug. Steve doesn't mutter a single word to me, and once he pulls away, he walks out silently. I watch his back, and once he disappears down another hall, I head into my Spanish class.

On the chalkboard, one of the Soc girls is writing down our warm-up, and stifling a heavy sigh, I grab a sheet of our teacher's homemade opening work paper. This week, another skull is decorating the top left corner – along with the word "calentamiento".

I claim a seat at the empty table right in the back of the classroom. Normally, I'm right in the front, eager to learn more about another language, but today, I'm not exactly in a learning mood.

Once she's finished, the West side princess sets the chalk back onto the ledge, dusts her hands off before rejoining her friends at the socially elite table in the classroom. After pulling the required objects out of my bag, I prepare my surroundings and prepare myself for class to begin. Turning my attention towards our warm-up, I groan.

We're required to fill in the blanks with either the preterite or imperfect term – a concept I have trouble grasping.

Before I have an actual change to begin, James Carrigan, a boy from the middle class, strolls over to the four empty seats surrounding me, and he's not alone; his pesky group of immature friends is following behind him – how they all managed to end up in the same Spanish class is still a mystery.

His whole clan is laughing, but I refuse to give them my attention; instead, I silently work on my class work. "Hey, Babe," James greets, taking a seat beside me. "How're you doing on this fine morning?" I continue to ignore him, and when he realizes what I'm doing, he proceeds with the comments. Then, from the corner of my eye, I can see him exchanging glances with his friends with a sly smirk on his face. "So, I don't know if anyone's told you this or not, Eileen, but your shirt is tight in all the right places." His friends erupt in laughter; James joins them, and when he sets his hand on my back, I feel myself tensing up.

He's making me extremely uncomfortable, and I wish Steve was here to tell him to back off. Unfortunately, he's not, so I'm left to fend for myself.

I roll my eyes in response to his comment, hoping he can't see how I'm actually feeling. I have a bad feeling it'll fuel his desire to continue cracking comments if he realizes how uncomfortable they're making me. "Why are you even here, James?" I finally ask, forcing myself to look him in the eyes. "Don't you and your friends have somewhere else to be?"

"Come on, a fine babe like yourself shouldn't be sitting all alone." He answers casually. I shoot him a disgusted look while trying to ignore the sounds of his friends' laughter; honestly, it makes me a little mad. They're encouraging him to continue, and at this point, I don't want to hear anything else he has to say.

James is proving to be a pig.

"I'm fine by myself, thank you," I respond, breaking eye contact. "Besides, I have a boyfriend, and I don't think he'll be too thrilled to hear that you're bothering me." He doesn't seem fazed with my indirect mention of Steve, and it leads me to wonder if he even knows who Steve Randle is.

"Come on, Eileen, don't be that way. What he doesn't know won't hurt him." James whispers, leaning closer to me. I roll my eyes, groaning loudly and scribbling down poor excuses for answers on my Spanish assignment.

Part of me considers telling Steve about the antics James Carrigan decided to play this period, and I almost talk myself into it until I realize he has bigger problems than this, and it wouldn't be right of me to add onto his stress – especially with something as simple as an immature boy.

Silently, I vow to keep this incident to myself.

XxXxXxX

He stalks into algebra looking a bit better than earlier but not quite up to his usual standards. "How're you feeling?" I question, setting my pencil on top of our shared table. Steve sits beside me, shrugging his shoulders.

"I'm real tired," he sighs, pulling out his battered up notebook. "I'm real tired of school too, and Mr Barnes sure is a pain in my ass. Hey, did you finish the homework from Friday? I was gonna do it yesterday, but I forgot." I nod my head, wordlessly pulling it out of my folder. Steve watches me the whole time, and he even offers me a small smile when I hand it his way.

"Don't let Mr Anderson catch you with it though," I warn. "I'm not exactly in the mood to receive a zero on an assignment." Steve rolls his eyes but copies down the work and answers.

"Hey, you think you're gonna be busy tomorrow night?" Steve asks me, not looking up from the homework. My mind wanders, scanning my mental agenda; as far as I know, I'm as free as a bird tomorrow night.

"No, I don't think I have anything to do. How come?" I watch him scribble down answers. He groans loudly when he makes a mistake, and instead of erasing it, he merely scribbles it out.

"Soda and his brothers are hosting a dinner tomorrow night to celebrate their parents' lives and discuss what's goin' on with their funeral. Sandy, Sylvia and Two-Bit's girl, Kathy, are comin' too, so I figured I'd ask if ya wanted to come too." Steve stops writing and looks up at me, waiting for a response.

"Yeah, sure, I'll come." Steve starts to grin, seemingly gleeful that I agreed to accompany him at a get together – a get together that's going to be one of the hardest in the near future.

"Great, I'll let Soda know, and I'll pick you up around 6:00 tomorrow evenin'."

XxXxXxX

Monday and Tuesday breeze by, and around 4:00, I finally decide to ask my mom if I can go to Soda's house for dinner. Dad is in the kitchen with her while Douglas sits silently at the table, towering over his homework. Imogene is no where in sight. "Hey, Mom, can I ask you something?" She nods her head, busily scrubbing the dishes.

"Steve asked me to if I wanted to join him and his friends for dinner at Soda's house. Is it all right with you if I go?" Mom opens her mouth to answer, but before she can say a single word, Dad intervenes; I'm well aware that I've captured Douglas' attention as well.

"Eileen, I don't know if that's such a good idea." Dad begins. Absentmindedly, I roll my eyes, knowing exactly where this is going. Following Dad's thought, Douglas feels the need to throw his own comment into the conversation.

"No, Dad, it's not a good idea," he argues. "Those greasers are no good, and she shouldn't even be hanging around them." Dad closes him mouth, pondering what my brother just said.

"Mom," I whine. "They're not bad people, and if they were, Steve wouldn't purposely let me get hurt. He'd at least protect me." Douglas laughs humorlessly, and it takes me everything I have to not flip him the bird.

"I still don't know, Sis." Dad begins slowly.

"Oh, Richard, she has a point," Mom finally says. "Steve wouldn't take our little girl somewhere she could get hurt, and like she said, if there's any pose of danger, Steve is going to protect her." Dad squints his eyes, thinking hard on how to answer.

Finally, he sighs.

"I'm still not fond of that boy, but if your mother is all right with it, then yes, you can go out with Steve tonight." Dad doesn't sound too thrilled with his decision, and when Douglas shoots him a dirty look, I'm well aware that he wholeheartedly disagrees with the outcome.

I couldn't care less.

I thank them happily, failing to contain my happiness – my happiness that's emerging from the idea of getting to spend more time with Steve – despite the reason for this dinner with him and his friends.

Steve picks me up at 6:00 on the dot like he had promised, and after saying a quick good-bye to my family, I join him outside my house. "Hey, I don't look overdressed do I? I figured I should look nice, and my sister told me this would be fine to wear."

Imogene pulled a simple, plain black dress from her closet along with a pair of her black flats. She tossed me a simple necklace and earrings, and once I was finished dressing myself, she gave me her approval.

But inside, I feel overdressed.

He shakes his head, looking down my body slowly. "Nah," Steve answers. "I think you look real damn good." My cheeks flush red, and a comment like that was definitely not what I was expecting. Steve reaches his truck and pulls the door open for me. "Ladies first." He says, holding out his hand. I take it gratefully, hoisting myself up. Steve offers his support, and once I'm inside the truck, he heads for the driver's side.

On the inside, I pray that tonight isn't as sad as I'm anticipating it to be.

When we arrive, the house is extremely quiet compared to the first time I was over, and it's not surprising that Soda, Two-Bit, Pony and Johnny are merely playing "Go Fish" to occupy themselves and distract their brains from the sadness that's be engulfing them the past few days. Sandy, Kathy, Sylvia and Dallas watch them blankly.

Kathy doesn't exactly introduce herself to me, but given the setting, I don't blame her. All I can base her on is her appearance, and for the most part, she looks like she'd be a nice girl. Her gorgeous blonde hair is tied back in a braid, and despite the sadness in the atmosphere, her blue eyes are still lively.

All in all, she's very pretty.

Steve claims a seat in one of the chairs, patting his knee, indicating that he wants me to join him. I do so silently, and when I look into the kitchen, I find Soda's other brother leaning over the sink, with his face in his hands and elbows stretched apart. "Is anyone helping Darry with dinner?" I question quietly, falling back into Steve's chest. He wraps his arm around my waist and shrugs in response. "Do you think someone should go help him? I feel bad." I start to pull out of his grip which results in his protests. "Steve, someone should go help him. It's not fair that he has to make supper for at least 10 people."

Without another word, Steve releases me.

Inside the kitchen, I can see a big pot full of water and spaghetti noodles and another pot containing sauce. "Hey, Darry," I greet, unintentionally startling him. He turns around slowly, and when he recognizes me, a small smile fills his face. "I came to help you."

Part of me expects him to argue with me, claiming he's perfectly capable of making all of the food, so it's a bit of a shock when he accepts my offering with open arms.

Darry asks me to make the boys a chocolate cake, and if I say so myself, it turned out pretty damn good.

XxXxXxX

After we all finish our meals, Darry brings forward the chocolate cake, verbally announcing to everyone that I was the one that made it – with minimal help from Darry of course. Steve squeezes my thigh gently as pieces are distributed.

Once Soda has his piece, a smile starts to grow on his face. Sandy nudges him gently, giving him a look that asks what's up, and after Soda takes a bite of the cake, he launches into a story. "Remember when we convinced Mom to let us have cake with our breakfast?" Darry cracks a small grin, barely nodding his head.

"Dad was even on board for the idea, and after convincing her that she wanted it as much as we did, she caved." Darry adds, covering the cake back up. Next to Soda, Pony smiles, wiping at the tears in his eyes.

"I remember that." He shares quietly.

Two-Bit opens his mouth, starting into another story. Everyone listens, occasionally nodding, and while I have no idea what he's talking about, I enjoy hearing about the past.

Soda starts to actually smile. "Hey, Steve," he starts, turning his attention towards his best friend. "Remember when we was ridin' bikes down the street, and you thought it would be fun to race that kid from down the street?" Steve nods his head, playing with his cake. "Then, you ended up fallin' off you bike and breakin' your arm. Mom was awful upset, but once she realized Dad thought it was funny, she eased up." Soda sighs, taking a bite of cake. "I miss them so much."

Each boy nods in agreement, and for the rest of the night, we remain seated at the table, listening to the different stories being told about Mr and Mrs Curtis.


Well, there's chapter 14. If you enjoyed it, please tell me. Please, if you have anything to say, let me know. Unless you're wanting to flame, then don't even waste your time replying.

I know that I'm opening another door without officially closing the first door ((the drama between Eileen and James & the Curtis parents)), but don't worry. It'll all be sorted out, and trust me. There's some more drama to come. Don't worry though. It's going to be spaced out, so there won't be new drama in each chapter.

So, please review? Please? For Johnny? :)