Bridgette stood outside of school the next morning with her school bag high on her shoulder. She studied the familiar brown building with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. As much as she wished it would be different, she knew it wouldn't be. And it sucked.

Her day went just like every other day of high school thus far. She sat in the front, off to the side, taking notes and minding her own business. Whenever there was a break in the lesson, she would sit there and doodle as everyone else around her talked and laughed. Everyone wanted to catch up after the summer.

It wasn't until math, during fourth period, that anything new happened. She had one thing on her mind as she walked into the class: lunch. She was starving. She was too hungry to even worry about being able to keep up in calculus. Her stomach was growling and she made a vow to wake up five minutes earlier to grab some breakfast from now on. She tossed her bag down and plopped down in an empty desk, ignoring the confused and unkind looks she was getting from the other kids already in her class. Not only was she a junior, but she was also the only greaser in class. Her peers were not amused.

Whatever, they could deal with it.

Bridgette pulled out her notebook and started to doodle in an attempt to block out the whispers.

"Another one?" a Soc snapped. "What the hell is this school trying to do?"

Bridgette didn't understand the comment until someone else plopped down just as she had in the seat right in front of her. She looked up in disinterest to see what poor sap accidentally sat next to the greaser girl and had to do a double take. It was Pony. Pony was in her class. She had a class with Ponyboy.

Pony either saw it was Bridgette, decided it was best to sit by one of his own, and then ignored her, or he didn't realize it was her and sat as far away from the Socs as he could. Either was plausible.

Bridgette thought about saying hi to him. After all, he very well couldn't have noticed it was her. But she was sitting right behind him and could definitely tell it was him. She had spent the better part of her life looking at the back of his head. It would be weird not to say hello, wouldn't it? Especially since they really were the only greasers in class. Then again, how could he not see it was her when he sat down? If he didn't say hi to her, then he clearly didn't want to talk to her…right?

Eventually she decided that even if he hadn't seen her, he still probably wouldn't be thrilled by the idea of her so she kept her mouth shut.

She returned her attention back to doodling, though she found herself glancing up at him every so often.

Their teacher, an older man with a bald head and a red mustache entered the room. He set his briefcase down on his desk and walked over to the chalkboard. He wrote a problem on the board that may as well have been math from an extraterrestrial. There were so many letters and symbols that it really couldn't have been anything human.

"Good morning, class," he greeted. Everyone stared at him blankly. "Can anyone solve this problem?"

Bridgette's heart sank and she ducked her head in shame. She knew this class was too advanced for her. This was probably review for all of these gifted kids. It took her a minute to realize no one was raising their hand.

"I would have keeled over dead if anyone could," he shrugged. "By the end of the year, you'll know exactly how to solve problems like these. So write this problem down, leave the rest of the page blank, and we'll have you solve it at the end of the year." Everyone flipped to a clean page in their notebooks and started to scribble away. "I'm Mr. Schmidt and welcome to calculus."

The rest of class really was spent reviewing which was a relief to Bridgette. The bell rang for lunch and every hustled to pack their bags. Bridgette stood up to head to lunch just as Pony turned to zip his bag and his brow furrowed.

"Shepard?" he frowned.

"Er, yeah," she stammered. Apparently he really hadn't seen her.

"You're in this class?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't this for gifted seniors?"

"Yeah."

"And they put you in here?"

"Yeah."

"Do you say anything else?"

"Yeah," she said defensively. He smirked and she cleared her throat. "Yes, I mean."

"I hear Two-Bit has turned into your personal beauty guru," he said mockingly. She wasn't sure if he was making fun of her or Two-Bit so she just shrugged and hiked her bag higher onto her shoulder. "See you around, I guess."

She waved feebly and watched as he walked away. She wanted to hit her head against the lockers and curse herself for being so awkward. Instead, she let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and headed to the dreaded cafeteria.

She sat down at a table next to the door and pulled out her lunch. It wasn't much, just a sandwich, banana, and water. It just about all she could put together. They didn't have much money to buy food to begin with and it didn't help that her parents were trying to feed two boys. They took most of it without even thinking. But she was just fine with her sandwich and banana.

She ate pretty quickly, trying not to be too disgusted with Bill Hightower as he stared at her as she ate her banana. She threw away her trash and headed outside to sit under a tree and read for the rest of her lunch. It was her routine. She did it every year. And just like every year, she watched Pony make his way back onto campus a few minutes before the bell rang. He always went to the DX station to visit his brother during lunch.

Her music teacher decided the best instrument for her was the piano which wasn't so bad. Other kids in class got things like the flute or violin. She would never live it down if she had to bring a flute home.

She had soccer practice after school and spotted James Midland standing with the coach. Two hours later, she headed back home. She had tons of homework and wasn't too excited about it.

Since she knew her parents would check the moment they got home, she made sure she did all of her homework first. Then she went to the bathroom and washed off any remaining makeup so her brothers wouldn't throw a fit.

Her parents arrived home before her brothers.

"Bridgette!" her mom shouted.

"Yeah?"

"Come in here please."

She sighed heavily and trudged into the other room.

"How was school?"

"It was good. They put me on piano."

"Respectable," her mom nodded in approval. "Maybe you can get a music scholarship."

"Maybe," Bridgette shrugged, knowing full well that she would never get a music scholarship.

"Classes hard?" her dad asked gruffly.

"Not really."

"Homework done?" he asked.

"All finished," she confirmed.

"Let me see," her mom insisted. Bridgette obediently went to her room and grabbed her completed homework. Her mom and dad thumbed through it. They handed it back.

"Soccer?" her dad asked.

"Great as always. Season doesn't start until winter so we have lots of time to get ready."

"But how were you?" he asked.

"I was good," she sighed. He cocked an eyebrow at her. "I was great. Best on the whole team."

"Good. Let's keep it that way."

Bridgette nodded and withheld the urge to scream. Most parents would be, you know, happy that their kid skipped a couple grades, was in gifted math, and was one of the best players on the soccer team. But, no, her parents would settle for nothing but the best. And if she was the best, they needed to make sure she stayed that way. No support. No appreciation. It was maddening.

"I'm going to my room to read."

Bridgette was in her room for a grand total of fifteen minutes before Curly barged into the room and tossed himself onto her bed.

"Evening, sis," he grinned. "How was school?"

"It was nice."

"Just nice?" he asked, acting like he was aghast. "Isn't that your, like, sanctuary?"

"Yes, bro, that is my sanctuary," she mocked.

"Did you make any friends?"

"I did. I showed everyone how good I am dancing and they all just came flocking. I'm the most popular girl at school."

"You see, I know you're lying because you can't dance for shit."

"I most certainly can," she said indignantly.

"Oh, can you?" he asked in a high pitched voice. "Look, I'm saying this from the heart because you're an okay kid when you want to be and I love you or something…but you have got to make some friends. Not for me or Tim or Mom and Dad. Do it for you. Aren't you lonely?"

"No," she snapped.

"Yes you are. And that's okay to admit. Don't tell Tim I told you this, but it actually is okay to show emotions sometimes. At least, it's okay to show emotions to me. Got it?"

"Got it," she smiled shyly. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he chuckled. He walked to the door and hesitated. "Hey, Tim is going to be out of town tomorrow and, well, if you wanted to stop by during lunch, I won't be opposed."

"Really?" she gaped.

"Really."

"Can I tell you something now so you don't freak out and embarrass me tomorrow?"

"Okay," he said slowly.

"I bought some makeup."

"You what?"

"I bought some makeup. But I promise, it's real classy stuff. It's not like those blues and reds and bright pinks that the other girls wear. It's just…nice. It's not bad, I promise."

"Tim would freak out."

"I know," she sighed.

"I won't tell if you don't," he said. "But I can't make the same promise for the other guys."

"He has to let me grow up eventually," she frowned.

"I don't think he sees it that way," Curly laughed. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Bridgette could count the times she had been invited to hang out with her brothers on one hand. And every single time she had been invited to hang out with them, it was always Curly who did the inviting. Needless to say, she was excited.

She went to bed that night with a smile on her face.

School absolutely dragged by that morning. Aside from looking forward to lunch to once in her life, she was also eager to get to math to see a particular boy. She sat where she had the day before and waited to see if Pony would sit by her again, now that he knew she was there and all. He did.

He greeted her with a groggy smile and yawn. Then he proceeded to ignore her the entire rest of class. She didn't take it personally. There wasn't much time to chat in calculus.

The bell rang for lunch and Bridgette bolted out of the room. If it wasn't socially unacceptable, she would have run but she restrained herself to a power walk.

"There she is," Curly grinned as soon as Bridgette stumbled into the house.

"Hey!" Frankie shouted. "You look good!"

"You were right," Curly said, leaning in close to inspect her makeup. "Not too bad."
"Tim would still kill her," another guy in the gang, Tony, grunted.

"Which is why we won't tell him, right?" Curly grinned.

"I can't make that promise," Tony said. "But she does look good."

"Better," Frankie corrected. "She's always looked good."

"Hey!" Curly said, smacking Frankie on the back of the head.

"Hit me all you want. It's still true."

Bridgette was highly flattered. These guys never gave her a second look and now she finds out that they thought she was actually kind of attractive? It was overwhelming.

"Hey, Beej," Frankie said.

"Yes?"

"Does that hot piece of ass still teach biology?" he asked.

"Miss Coia?"

"Yeah! That's the one."

"Yeah, she does."

"You should set me up with her."

"That's unlikely," she said, trying to hide her smile.

"Why?"

"Because you're a seventeen-year-old dropout with no car and no money. A girl like that is used to the finer things in life," Tony cut in.

"And how would you know?" Frankie scowled.

"Because I took her out last year."

"You did not," Curly laughed.

"Did too," he defended. "We went to Myrtle's Diner. She got a Cherry Coke and some fries. At the end of the night her boyfriend found us leaving together and he tried to kick my ass. I pulled out my blade and I never saw her again. Weird."

"Yeah, who'd a thought?" Curly rolled his eyes.

"But is she single now?" Frankie asked.

Everyone ignored him.

"I don't miss school one bit," Curly shook his head. He pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket and stuck it into his mouth. He lit it and inhaled.

"Me neither," Tony agreed.

"That's because you two were idiots," Frankie said logically.

"Says the high school dropout."

"I wasn't an idiot," Frankie defended, punching Tony in the arm. "I had more important things to do with my time."

"Like what?" Curly challenged.

"Like your mom," Frankie replied and the boys started to wrestle. Bridgette pulled out her lunch and started to eat as they boys continued to wrestle.

"What have you got there?" Tony asked.

"Sandwich and banana," she listed.

"Can I have a bite?" he asked enthusiastically.

"Leave her food alone," Curly cut in, panting with the effort to keep Frankie in a headlock. "It's the only lunch she has. And she needs her energy for soccer."

"The bigshot," Tony scowled.

"Make your own sandwich," Frankie said, wriggling out of the headlock and tackling Curly to the ground.

"Fine, I will."

Bridgette just continued eating in silence.

"Oh god," she winced after checking the clock in the kitchen. "I'm going to be late."

"We'll drive you," Curly said. "Mom would kill me if she found out you were late to a class. And I don't know how, but she would find out it was my fault. Frankie, got your keys?"

"Yeah," he said and straightened his jacket.

Bridgette was too busy basking in the glory of hanging out with her brother and other actual people to pay much attention to their conversation. She smiled as the wind whipped her hair around her face and the music blared from the speakers. She loved it.

Frankie pulled up to the front of the school around the same time Pony was rounding the corner to walk down the main pathway to get back into school. Bridgette rushed out of the car, thanked the guys, and hurried after Pony. Pony could hear her footsteps behind him and he turned around.

"Where are you coming from?" he asked, glancing over the tree she normally sat under suspiciously.

"Hung out with Curly and them today," she said casually, like this happened all the time.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes. Frankie gave me a ride back," she said. As if on cue, Frankie revved his engine and sped down the street.

"Oh," he said, clearly surprised. "Cool."

"Yeah." She wished desperately she could think of something cool to say. She wanted to have an actual conversation with him and prove she wasn't the clingy, lovesick kid she used to be. But she came up blank, as per usual.

"What classes do you have next?" Pony asked. Bridgette praised him, berating herself for not coming up with such a good and relevant question.

"Music and gym," she said. Then she quickly added, "You?"

"Anatomy and European History."

"Fun," she noted.

"Yeah. Well, see you around."

He disappeared into a classroom and Bridgette was left standing there, smiling like an idiot. It was only the second day of school and therefore way too early to make such bold claims, but things really were looking up this year.