This story is in dedication to: JessieMundaiFan. Because of her inspirational story: Wild Ride.

Please enjoy the story!

DISCLAIMERS: I don't own The Outsiders, or That Was Then, This Is Now. S. E. Hinton does. And I also do not own: Wild Ride. That is' Jessie's own idea.

CHAPTER 4

Ponyboy yawned while walking down the halls; today was Monday and he didn't sleep that good last night. He had another nightmare. It was really bad, so bad he didn't remember.

"Yo, Curtis!" Ponyboy turned seeing Mark.

"Oh, hi, Mark." Ponyboy said. "And it's Pony-"

"So quick question, not from me, but are you going to homecoming?" Mark asked dryly.

Ponyboy was confused. "Wait. . . the question wasn't from you? But you just asked-"

"Yes or No, Curtis?"

"I dunno."

Ponyboy didn't like school dances, he didn't do much but talk to his friends and watch Soc girls dance in their frilly dresses, ignoring him and other Greasers. Ponyboy went to one dance his eighth grade year, Soda was still in school, and his big brother thought it would be fun to sneak Ponyboy into the high school dance, Ponyboy was bored the whole time while Sodapop danced with a pretty girl after another, after another, after another.

Mark bit his lip. "Well, you should go. I'm gonna' organize the booze, you don't have to drink it but I highly doubt I'm gonna' be sober when dealing it." Mark let out a laugh Ponyboy had to smile kindly at.

"Well, I'll think about it. What class do you have now Mark?"

"Uh. . . I think Gym. I dunno I sometimes just go to a class and sleep whether it's mine or not."

Ponyboy shook his head, knowing Mark since grade school, he hadn't changed.

Ponyboy daydreamed for the rest of school, jotting down only important notes when needed and when the bell finally rang he was happy to leave. But before he could get off campus, he was tackled.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" A high pitched voice apologized.

"Oh, no, you're okay-"

Ponyboy stopped talking when he laid eyes on Angela Shepard. She was the youngest Shepard, like he was the youngest Curtis, only younger than him by one year. Angela wore a tight light blue shirt that brought out her breasts and a dainty shirt that reached her knees. She picked up her books which Ponyboy helped, remembering to act like a gentleman.

"I'm sorry, Angela, I should watch where I'm going-"

"Oh, no, no, no. Ponyboy, you did nothing to cause harm, dear." She was sweet and coaxing, but under that sugarcoat was a tiger roaring for lust.

Ponyboy smiled kindly at her and Angel bit her tumbnail, rocking back and fourth on her heels.

"So. . . . I'll see ya' around." Ponyboy waved.

"Oh! Wait, Ponyboy!" Angela called.

Ponyboy turned.

"Are you going to the dance?" She asked, hopefully.

"Well," Ponyboy started. "I don't know. Maybe. If I have homework or not-"

"Oh, goody!" Angela chirped. "What time will you be there? I'd like to meet up with you!"

Ponyboy smiled, but deep down he groaned. Angela Shepard wasn't the one to leave him alone like most girls. He knew how trashy she was. He just hoped she didn't have a thing for him.

"Well, maybe, like I said, I don't know if I'll be busy or not."

"uh-uh-kay." She slured, licking her lips. "Well, I gotta' go. See you, Pony-man."

Ponyboy gave a tiny wave and as he walked away, he couldn't figure out what was wrong with Angela Shepard.

Angela giggled looking back at Ponyboy as she quickly rushed over to her brother Curly, leaning against the linked fence.

"So?" He asked.

"Same thing as Mark, Curly. He doesn't know, he might be busy." Angela reported.

"Well, fuck! Make him go!" Curly screamed in frustration, lighting a cigarette. Angela's smile curled on her face.

"Why do you want him to go so badly, Curly?" She chirped.

"None of your damn business."

"It is so if I'm in on your little-gay plan." Curly didn't respond, walking away. Angela was quick to follow, but she kept her trap shut.

"Are you coming home?" She asked after a while of walking on train tracks with Curly.

"I dunno, maybe."

"James and Mom want you home. I'm sure James just wants to yell at you-"

"Like that's not normal."

James was Curly's mother's new boyfriend. Curly was sure he'd be out in a month or less like the last ones; but James managed to stick around for almost a year. You'd think he was their step-father on how he acted. Telling the kids to listen to their mother, reading off lists of chores he wanted done, mostly disciplining them.

James, Tim and Curly never got along. Angela avoided James so she didn't have much of a problem with him. But the second James told Tim Shepard to do something, it was an all out war in their living room.

James never told Tim what to do and Tim never went within ten feet of the man.

Which left Curly to be the butt of James' wrath.

"Well, he's asking about you."

"Yeah? Probably to beat the tar out of me."

"Tim won't let that happen-"

Oh, yes he might. After the stunt Curly pulled in the car with Tim; He wasn't so sure Tim had his back for a good while.

"Well, Mama misses you. . . ."Angela trailed off.

Curly bit his lip, that was a hard one. As much as Curly hated his mother for choosing pricks that would just beat her or her kids, that was still his mother. Probably the only one who truly loved him, at least Curly liked to think she had some mother-senses left in her.

"Fine. I'll say 'hi' to her, but then I'm leaving." Curly groaned, darting across the street before a car could hit him, flipping the driver his middle finger when he was called a crude name.

Curly and Angela entered their house, dogs barked from the backyard and Curly hosed them off.

The house was messy, clothes, pillows, garbage littered the floor. Most of the furniture was either worn out, broken or poorly fixed together and the walls smelled of a fresh carton of cigarettes.

"So where's Ma'?" Curly wanted to get this over and done with.

"Maybe the kitchen-MAMA!" Angela threw her bag on the floor and ran to her room. Curly slowly walked in each room on the first floor. She wasn't in the kitchen, nor the bathroom, not the living room, not the dining room.

Curly heard a loud bang and he nearly jumped, but spun around to see a worn out woman, dressed in a loosely hung white dress. Her hair was curly, wiled and untamed, braided in a large braid that draped over her shoulder. She had dark circles under her eyes as if she hadn't slept in weeks.

"Hey, Ma." He smirked.

She didn't respond.

"So, I'm home."

". . . For three days?" She slurred. Curly bit his bottom lip, smirking, holding up his hands.

"You got me."

Mrs. Shepard took a step closer. "Three days, you were in Tulsa, but you hadn't the decency to come home?!"

Actually, Curly did come home his first day, but his mother was fighting with James.

"You make a nice tuna casserole." Curly commented.

Mrs. Shepard found herself shaking with anger. "You little thief." She whispered.

"Well, the brat learned from the best." Curly and Mrs. Shepard turned to see James standing in the front doorway, a bottle of vodka in his hands, covered in a paper bag. Curly could smell him a mile away.

"Well, if it isn't Drunky the Clown. Get out, ya' bum." Curly hissed. "We're having a fucking family conversation, leave asshole!"

"Don't you talk to me like that you son of a bitch!" James growled "Where in the Hell have you been?"

"That's not any of your business, Drunky" Curly snapped.

"It is if you want to continue living in my home-"

"Your home?"

Everyone fell silent, inckuding Curly as Tim walked in the door. Tim was the same size height wise as James, making it a rfair fight as long as neither had a blade.

"Far as I'm concerned, you don't have a job. You don't pay bills, you don't do anything else but drink. Tell me James, how do you automatically own this house?" Tim and James glared at one another until James muttered something under his breath, walking to the living room to drink.

Curly scowled as Tim glanced at him.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer. " Curly rolled his eyes, darting to his old room. He pick-locked his door open and was greeted by a sneeze when dust came into contact. Opening a window, he allowed the summer air to purify the room. Same messy room he left months ago. Nothing changed really.

He plopped on his mattress on the floor his step-father approved as a bed and groaned. He didn't want to be here, but he highly doubted Tim would let him leave. Curly was keeping track of the days in Juvy.

"Tomorrow's the first." He muttered.

Every first of the month, if someone wasn't jailed, The Shepard gang would all gather, take a head count, pile in money and sware their loyalty. It was actually a little more complicated than Curly liked it. But Tim was a professional gangster. He liked his group organized and loyal.

Curly, since he was Tim's brother, was automatically forced into the field. Angela wasn't needed, but she would be good bait if Tim would let her. At first Curly felt proud to be in the gang once he hit the age of thirteen (the official age, Tim called it) Curly did love being in the gang, don't get him wrong. But he hated how Tim would breathe down his back more because of it.

Curly then smirked thinking of The Curtis Gang. Tim and them had sworn loyalties to each other, but only for Soc related problems. They wouldn't help with house wrecking, police gang-ups or anything dangerous. Curly thought of Ponyboy, the fourteen-year-old thinking he was tough.

Curly remembered when he thought like that.

"Fuckin' Curtis, always on my mind aren't ya?" He leaned back and smiled, drifting off to sleep.

That is-before he could hear James and Tim going at it again.

Ponyboy sighed, it was after dinner dishes were completed and Darry had him set up his math homework at the kitchen. He hated math. It was hard, confusing and just when you think you were getting it, you're actually doing it wrong.

Ponyboy hated Algebra the most.

"No, no. A isn't the absolute number, Ponyboy. You need to divide it-"

Soda walked in taking a glance at Pony's paper.

"Man, I'm glad I dropped out when I did." Soda mumbled, catching Darry's angered eye. Darry still hadn't gotten over the fact that Soda bombarded him to allow him to drop out to pay the bills. But Soda was the legal age to start working and Darry couldn't' pay the bills with just two jobs.

"Er, um. Here Pony, I'll get out of your hair." Soda grinned, rushing away quickly.

Ponyboy sighed, trying to concentrate but something else was on his mind. Today two people had asked him about Homecoming and he didn't even know if he wanted to go. He didn't really want to because of the fact of how recently he lost his parents.

"Ponyboy, get your head out of the clouds," Darry snapped. "Let's finish this, so you can take a shower then hop to bed."

Pony could tell Darry was tired. He had circles under his eyes and he was trying his best to not show he was in pain by moving slowly for his stiff muscles. Ponyboy felt guilty. He wished he was sixteen so he could work and help Darry. Pny heard Darry sigh and laid his head on the table.

"Darry?"

". . . What?"

"I'm done."

Darry looked at Pony's problems and through the paper back on the table.

"Finish it correctly." Darry growled, slightly scaring Ponyboy.

"But-it's done."

"It's not correct, if you're going to bullshit me Ponyboy, at least make it suitable."

Ponyboy had taken an hour to finish the math correctly to Darry's liking before Darry hobbled to his room to go to bed. Soda had drawn Ponyboy a bath and Ponyboy still couldn't get the dance off his mind. He never went to a school dance before, he didn't know what to expect. Ponyboy sighed, drifting off to sleep under Soda's arm.

He missed when the door would open slightly, knowing his mother would watch him every so often to make sure he slept soundly.

When Ponyboy fell asleep, he didn't hear the front door opening.

Yay!

I hope you like it so far, Jessie.

Review for more! :)

-Kylelover101