I'm afraid I've got some bad news for you all... I'm having trouble getting into the next chapter. It's not that I'm having writer's block; it's just that I'm having trouble writing the chapter. I know what I want to happen, but I can't get into the putting my thoughts into words part. It really sucks.

I think I replied to those that reviewed the last chapter, but if I didn't, I want you all to know that I appreciate your reviews. I hope you guys like this chapter, and I really hope to hear from you guys once you've finished reading.


Steve fails to greet me at my locker Monday morning, and in a sort of sense, it makes me uneasy. It's unlike him to fail to show, and for the most part, he's gotten control on how many days he misses, and the fact that he isn't here right now influences a mixture of emotions to run wild.

I sift through the books in my locker with a mind somewhere other than school. I know I shouldn't worry about Steve, but I can't help it. What if the soc got to him again? I remember towards the beginning of the year when those soc jumped him while he was alone.

Someone drops back against one of the locker, creating a loud thud, but it's not enough to pull me out of the trance I'm passing through. "Hey, Hot Stuff," the person comments, and once again, I can't believe this is happening. I break away from my books, shooting James a nasty glare. He feigns hurt and shakes his head slowly. "It doesn't look like someone is having too good of a morning." I roll my eyes, setting my last book in my locker and shutting the door.

"I'd be having a much better day if you would take a hint, and leave me alone." I growl, storming off down the hall. James watches me go, and for a split second, I feel like I finally got through to him; then, to prove me wrong, he pushes himself off the locker and chases after me.

"Ooh, Baby, don't go playing hard to get," he says. "I don't think it's a secret that James doesn't take no for an answer." James slings his arm around my shoulder, and after I shrug it off, he repeats his action.

Right now, I wish Steve was here to beat the shit out of him.

"James, what do you want from me?" I deadpan, trying to shrug his arm off of me. A few soc and middle class kids shoot me dirty looks, and I figure they're the type that frowns down upon any form of PDA - despite my best efforts to get him to stop.

"I don't want anything from you, Baby," he answer smoothly. "But don't think I haven't seen those looks you give me in class. I'm well aware that you want a piece of me, and I'm trying to deliver, Honey. I just want to satisfy your needs and show you a real good time." Once again, I roll my eyes; I don't know where he's getting the idea that I "want a piece of him", but I would love for him to leave me alone.

"I'm not interested," I throw his arm off of me, and when he goes to replace it, I duck out of the way. "Seriously, I have a boyfriend, and James, I don't give you any looks. Now, for the last time, leave me alone." He doesn't pay any heed to my statement, and as we head down the stairs, James matches my pace.

"Baby, I don't know what crawled up your butt and died, but I promise you I can fix it. It'll take me a measly 15 minutes to make your day better." James continues on my tail as I hit the bottom floor, and I learn fast that it's a lost cause to try and speed up my walking - like on the stairs, he proceeds to match my pace.

James passes one of his friends in the hallway, and the two of them share a silent exchange of words which consists of James throwing him a couple suggestive raises of his eyebrows and his friend returning the gesture with a single nod of his head. Once James' black haired freak passes, his head wipes around, and before I have a chance to figure out what's going on, he grabs my butt in his hand and squeezes.

I emit a small shriek, and my face flushes red with embarrassment.

James claims the empty seat beside me in Spanish, and as his little creeps come into the class, he waves them over. Once again, I get to spend the next hour in luxury, and before now, I've never considered walking out of class without permission.

His friends talk loudly amongst themselves, and for the most part, James leaves me to work on my assignments in peace, and I'm not complaining one bit. Then, his friends start to quiet down, and I've come to know that whenever something like this happens, nothing good is about to emerge.

Once again, I'm right.

James turns to face me with a smirk, and unlike Steve's, his is laced with dirty comments and suggestive actions. "Are you doing better, Sugar?" James asks, and as my jaw clenches at another round of his antics, I shake my head. "That's a shame, Eileen, because your shirt is doing wonders for those boobs of yours, and if you want, my offer still stands for showing you a good time." His friends start giggling, and his comment still makes me feel ashamed of myself.

James shoots me a wink, and as his comment sinks in, it makes me feel ever more disgusted than I was before.

I can't wait for this class to end.

XxXxXxX

My class races for the door once the lunch bell rings, but I take my time. I don't exactly fancy the idea of being trampled and seeing as how Soda, or Steve, isn't here today, I don't have any reason to hurry. My teacher mumbles a few things under his breath, and although I don't think it's negative, I don't acknowledge it; I continue on my way.

Steve is standing outside the classroom, waiting for me, and inside, I feel myself growing annoyed that he decided to show up now - not this morning when I needed him the most.

I sigh internally, remembering that Steve is oblivious to the antics James is forcing me through. I remind myself that I refuse to tell him; therefore, he has no idea that his presence saves me from the crap James pulls with me.

"Hey, you wanna head off for lunch?" Steve inquires, and I nod my head when I see that he looks like he's craving a smoke, and as a sort of reassurance that he'll protect me from anything, I slip my hand in his, lacing our fingers together.

He doesn't drop me, and when Steve squeezes my hand gently, it brings a smile to my face.

XxXxXxX

We settle on the new malt shop down the road from The Dingo, and although the place only serves ice cream cones, shakes and malts, we decide it's what we want for lunch. I'm sure that if my mother was here, she would be nagging me that this isn't healthy and that I should be eating something more filling, but I don't care. Honestly, I don't think Steve cares either.

He situates our duo in front of the counter; my eyes scan the menu, and if I'm being honest with myself, it all sounds really good. Off to the right, a couple cups are taped to a piece of cardboard, and when I see the two sizes they offer, my stomach churns. It appears they only sell medium, which looks like a large, and a large, which looks like extra large.

Needless to say, there's no way I'll be able to finish one by myself.

"Steve," I nudge him, directing my attention towards him. "Will you share something with me?" He gives me a funny face, and before he can question me, I continue. "There's no way I'm going to be able to finish one of these things by myself."

"Yeah, I split somethin' with ya," Steve answers. "What do ya want?" He throws his around my shoulders, waiting for my answer. My eyes scan over the menu again, and out of everything on the board, a chocolate shake sounds the most appealing.

I tell Steve what I want, and once he agrees, he pulls us towards the counter. The woman at the cash register asks for our order, and Steve remains silent – a clear indication that he doesn't have any intention of ordering.

She looks at me, and in response, I shake my head, nudging Steve. He groans and rolls his eyes before giving into my refusal. "I needa get one medium chocolate shake." She rings up our purchase and reads off the price. He pulls his arm away from me and digs into his back pocket for his wallet.

Once we receive our shake, Steve declares that we're heading back out to his truck. I follow after him, and as soon as we step through the door, Steve hands me the shake and pulls out a cigarette.

I should've known.

Steve leans again his truck, lighting his cigarette and taking a huge drag on it. "Can, I ask you a question, Eileen?" Steve inquires, pulling his cancer stick out of his mouth. My heart starts to race. Deep inside, something tells me he found out about the whole James situation. Something tells me someone told him what's been going on. With my mind in a daze, I nod my head, and Steve continues with his question.

I should just tell him. I should just stop him now, and confess everything.

He nudges me gently, and it takes me a second to realize he's waiting for my answer. My eyes widen, and I look at him, confused. "What?" I question. "Sorry, Steve, I wasn't paying attention." I expect him to groan or roll his eyes, but neither of the two happens.

"Why us?" He questions. I take a sip of our shake, waiting for him to expand on what he's asking; honestly though, I think I have a pretty good idea what he's asking. "Out of all 'em kids, why'd you choose a bunch of greasers to hang around with?" I shrug my shoulders, thinking of how to answer his question.

I know exactly why I'm here. I'm tired of being the perfect little girl my parents want. I'm tired of the dull and routine life I live. I'm here because I crave excitement, and I know the greasers of the East side can provide me with that.

"Soda always told me stories about you guys, and he made it sound like you guys have a lot of fun," I answer, taking another drink. "I guess I didn't intend of sticking with you guys, but you guys became my new friends, so here I am." Steve stares at the road ahead, taking another suck on his cigarette, and to me, it seems that's content with my answer.

Considering Steve appears to be in a good mood, I strongly debate on telling him about James, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid that he'll get insanely mad at not only James, but at me as well.

He starts to chuckles, and it makes me jump. "Babe, you want a smoke? You look a little upset." Steve offers his cigarette to me, and despite the fact that I don't smoke, the offer is really tempting.

"I've never smoked before," I tell him quietly, staring at the stick. "What if I do something wrong?" I break away from the cigarette and meet Steve's eyes. He looks amused, and I can tell he's holding back a laugh.

"It ain't that hard, Eileen." I take it from him nervously, handing him our shake in return, and before I can talk myself out of it, I put the cigarette to my lips; Steve watches me the whole time. I start to inhale, but before I have a chance to finish my breath, I pull it from my mouth before a fit of coughs overtakes my body.

I throw the cigarette on the ground before falling against Steve's body. He laughs loudly, knocking our shake onto the ground. "S-Steve!" I cough, covering my mouth. "It's not funny!" My eyes start to water as my breathing begins to regulate. "I'm ready to go back to school now." I whisper, burying my face in his arm.

"I can't believe you wasted the last of my weed."

XxXxXxX

"Eileen, I think we need to have a small talk," Dad comments, cutting into his steak. It's a clear indication that he'll be doing most of the talking, so I don't react. When my father notices this, he continues forward with this chat. "I'm not too fond of how much time you're spending with this Steven boy." I groan louder than intended which results in a dirty look from Dad; Mom even decides to scold me.

"Eileen, behave yourself."

"Young Lady, this is for your own good. I can assure you that this boy is nothing but trouble, and he's going to get you to dance with the law with him. It's already happened before, hasn't it?" I nod reluctantly, remembering the time that we were caught stealing hubcaps with Soda.

"Yes, Sir."

Dad shakes his head and sighs. "Honey, I wish you would drop that boy. If you knew what was good for you, you would," Douglas looks at me with a satisfied smirk on his face. "Eileen, there's so many better boys out there for you. What about Frank's son? He's so much better than that hood you're with now."

"I don't want to get with someone like Mr Rivera's son!" I cry, setting my fork on the table. "Dad, he's a nerd!" He opens his mouth to scold me for acting rudely towards someone that isn't even with us – something about talking shit behind his back. My parents aren't fond of that despite the fact that it's a way of life for teenagers. "Steve is a whole lot better than John will ever be, and he hasn't have run-ins with the law in a while!" Douglas rolls his eyes and takes a bite of mashed potatoes.

"Don't listen to her, Dad," he says through a mouthful of food. "I saw him kissing on this junior girl a couple days ago at lunch." Dad shakes his head in disapproval, and I can't believe it.

"Dad, don't listen to Douglas," Imogene interjects, noticing I'm on the verge of tears. "He's feeding you lies, so you'll force her to break up with Steve. He isn't bad, and Eileen's right. He's a lot better than John Rivera." Doug shakes his head and proceeds with his lies.

Imogene stops defending Steve, and she, along with Mom, start at Douglas. Both of them reassure my dad that he's a good kid for me while telling my brother to shut up. I bury my face in my hands, willing the tears to go away.

I can't cry.

I can't let Douglas have the satisfaction of seeing me cry, and there's no way that Dad will ease up any if I start to sob.

My family continues to bicker around me, and before long, I can't take anymore of it. "Knock it off, and shut the fuck up, Douglas!" I scream. My family falls dead silent, and several angry tears threaten to spill down my cheeks. No one reacts to my use of the F-bomb, and if I'm being completely honest with myself, I can't believe I said it.

I wipe my eyes furiously before pushing my chair back. Mom, Dad, Imogene and Douglas continue to stare at me, but I don't care. Without another word, I storm off to my room where I can release my anger in peace.

And I decide that I hope Douglas rots in hell.


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