A/N: I know this is a short one, but since I may not be able to get back to it until next week, I'm posting this much now. Hope you enjoy! Liz

Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns The Outsiders

Dedication: For Tens, Kiks, Rock, and Taurus, just because; for Julie, because I thought you could use a little laugh after going through a heat wave with two little tykes; and for P&P, whom Jack suggested we invite back to the house practically before the car was out of sight. I'll make the coffee again, for all of us :D

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My Exciting Life
Chapter 5

"The ball, Gina. Watch. The. Freaking. BALL!"

I held the bat to my side and glared at Jason. "I am watching the ball. You're still throwing it too fast!"

Jason clenched his fist around the ball so hard, I was kind of surprised it didn't rupture. "Christ, Gina, I can't alter the laws of physics! If I throw the ball any slower it'll never make it over the plate!"

"Move closer," I suggested.

Jason was looking at me like I had just suggested we have a little waltz on the front porch. "I'm halfway from where the pitcher's mound should be as it is! I might just as well stand right next to you and hold the ball completely stationary in front of you!" It sounded like a good idea to me.

We had been at it for four days, and I couldn't hit the ball. I could throw pretty well, given a fair radius of error, and my catching was improving, considering it had taken me most of the first lesson to stop closing my eyes and ducking when Jason threw the ball to me. But so far, it seemed I was not meant to hit a ball with a bat. "You don't need to get so angry," I pointed out, which only seemed to fuel his fire. "Maybe you're just a lousy teacher." Truthfully, Jason was a pretty good teacher. But I wasn't about to tell him that.

Jason hurled the ball at the ground and threw his arms in the air. "Fine! Fine, you ungrateful little snot. I give up! You will never ever hit this ball. There is something wrong with you."

I huffed and tossed the bat on the ground. "Fine! I don't need your help anyway. I'll probably do better without you!"

I stood there and watched Jason storm toward the house, stopping to get a drink from the hose on his way. I took a breath and hurried after him.

"Jase?"

"Go away."

"Come on, Jason. I need you to help me. I have to hit this ball. Please? I won't help you out with Dawn!"

Jason tossed the end of the hose to the ground and whirled around to face me. "So? You think I need your help to get a girl? I don't even care about that anymore; you're driving me crazy!"

We stood there and looked at each other for a minute, glared at each other, really, neither of us willing to admit to the mutual obsession that had overtaken us. I had to hit the ball. It was no longer just to get on the team, or to impress Emilio, and I think for Jason it had nothing to do with Dawn, and he couldn't care less if anything good ever happened for me. But we had both become fixated on getting me to have that bat make contact with that ball. Jason had tried everything and was at his wit's end, and it was driving him insane that nothing was working. I was half expecting him to blindfold me next and tell me to use the force.

"Five more minutes," he finally said in a tone that indicated that he had won, even though I felt like I had. "And I swear, if you don't hit the ball by then, I am done with you."

> > > >

"Where do you want this stuff?" Jon asked me.

I turned to see him standing next to the counter with a bowl of chips and some dip. "Just put it on the coffee table. Thanks."

"I think the real question," Robbie said, looking up from his ice cream, "is, 'what are you and the other girls planning to do with that stuff?'." He grinned at me like I was trying to hide something.

"What are you talking about?" I lifted the top of the mixer and pulled the bowl off its stand to dump the brownie batter into the pan.

"Oh, I think you KNOW what I'm talkin' about," Robbie smirked. "Bunch of girls, container of dip, a few potato chips…" He trailed off and raised his eyebrows at me. I shoved the pan into the oven and rolled my eyes, deciding to ignore him.

"Jackie's here," Jon announced as he walked back into the kitchen.

"Oh, good. Did you let her in?"

Jon shook his head. "Just saw the car pull in."

I wiped my hands on the towel and headed out to the living room, opening the door just as Jackie – and Dawn – stepped onto the porch. "Hey, guys!" I greeted. I took a closer look at Jackie. "What's that on your face?"

Jackie smiled. "Makeup. Doesn't it look great? Dawn put it on for me." We shuffled into the living room.

Dawn waved her hand as if to ward off a compliment. "You have great skin," she told Jackie. "With your color, it was easy to pick out the right shades." She stopped talking to give Jackie a quick pointed look, and they both laughed.

"What's going on?" I asked, feeling kind of left out, since they were pretty much ignoring me.

Jackie waved her hand and laughed harder. "Oh, it was so funny! There was this guy," she stopped and put her hand over her mouth as Dawn joined in the giggle-fest. "And he…and he…" Jackie was in tears and folded in half.

"Never mind, you can tell me later," I offered. Anything to make them both stop laughing and step into the present. "You guys want to come in the kitchen? I just put some brownies in the oven."

I watched Dawn as we walked back to the kitchen. She was fifteen, a year older than us, and looked like she would probably be a cheerleader. Yay. Makeup, cheery attitude, perfect hair…in short, very annoying.

By the time the brownies were out of the oven, the other girls – Tricia, Andrea, and Maxine – had arrived. They were all huddled around the counter admiring Dawn's fingernails. "So where do you get the stickers?" Andrea asked.

Dawn tapped her elaborate nails on the counter. "My mom orders them from a catalog. Aren't they cool? I've got different ones for all the seasons, and every occasion."

"So are those the sleeping bag ones?" I asked. Tricia laughed, and Dawn gave me an odd smile.

"Dawn brought, like, fifty bottles of nail polish," Jackie told us.

I was about to ask why on earth she did that when Dawn waved everybody over to the table. "Ooh, everybody sit down and pick a color," she suggested, producing a bag that I hadn't realized was slung over her shoulder, and they all followed her like she was the pied piper as she dumped the bag onto the table.

"I thought we were playing Trivial Pursuit," I reminded everybody.

Maxine glanced back at me. "We can do that later."

"Right." Somebody shoot me. "Does anyone want a brownie?"

Jackie opened her mouth to answer, but Dawn looked kind of disgusted and spoke first. "Not me. That kind of stuff goes right to my hips. Besides, chocolate makes you break out."

Everybody looked concerned and in agreement, as if she was making any sense at all. I realized I was rubbing at the pimple that had just appeared on the side of my chin the day before and quickly pulled my hand away from my face. "I was making them for the boys, anyway," I explained. "To keep them out of our way."

Just then Jason sauntered into the room, gave a quick smile and nod toward the table, strolled over to the refrigerator, pulled out the orange juice, and took a swig out of the container. Dawn and Tricia giggled. I made a mental note to not drink any more orange juice out of our refrigerator. "There's some brownies here," I pointed out, "in case you wanted to plant your face in the pan and have a go at them." Jason ignored me.

"You were at the fireworks, right?" he asked Dawn, as if he hadn't been planning this moment for, like, over a week. I wondered how long it had taken him to come up with that one. His reflection had probably dozed off while he was practicing it.

Dawn gave a sly little grin. "Yep, that was me."

Jason smiled and put the orange juice back. "Painting the house?" he asked, walking over to look at all the little bottles. Everybody laughed at his corny little joke. I took the opportunity to slip into the living room where Jon and Robbie were watching television.

"Did you guys see her?" I demanded quietly.

They both looked at me.

"Dawn! Did you see her, all cute and flouncy?"

Robbie gave a little laugh. "Yeah; she's phat."

I stared at him. "What? She's like a twig!"

Jon sighed, and Robbie leaned forward for a handful of popcorn. "Not fat, genius. Phat." When I gave him a look he continued. "What'd you do, lose your updated manual of current teenage slang? For godsake, don't let Mom and Dad find it. They'll know what we're talking about."

"Robbie, I am going to rip your beating heart out of your -"

"Alright, relax. P-H-A-T. It means she's hot."

I considered for a few seconds. "So? Who cares? She's a ditz." Honestly.

Jon laughed. "Emilio ain't no prize either, hon."

I shot my twin a sharp glare. "At least he doesn't put stickers on his fingernails!"

"What?"

"Never mind. So anyway," I continued at a normal volume as Jackie emerged from the kitchen, "if you guys do decide to have some brownies, they're on the counter."

Jon and Robbie shot off the couch and around the corner to the kitchen before I was even done talking.

"Isn't she great?" Jackie asked me.

"Who?"

"Dawn! She is so cool, and I think she's really nice to be hanging out with us, even though we'll just be freshmen. You know?"

I gritted my teeth and shrugged. "I guess so."

Jackie leaned close. "Do you have any idea if Jason likes Dawn? She thinks he's so cute, so I told her I would ask you."

I dug my fingernails into my leg to stop myself from saying something that would throw Jason's plan off-kilter. I had made a deal, after all. "I think he thinks she's okay," I answered nonchalantly. As we turned back toward the kitchen, I took Jackie's arm, leaned closer to her ear, and lowered my voice. "But Robbie thinks she's fat."