I REALLY SUCK. If anyone's still with me, I'll be really surprised. But as I've been saying for so long, I am determined to finish this fanfic, especially because all hell is about to break loose. And I'm thinking about skipping right to the beginning of those events, perhaps it'll help me find the motivation to start writing this more frequently than what I do. Meaning faster updaaaaaates. First, though, I really need to reread and figure out what month it is, what exactly is going on, what happened in past chapters. So wish me luck.

I'm frozen, absolutely terrified. I don't like his dad. I've never officially met him, but the negative stories that surround what I know is a legitimate enough reason for me to dislike him already. And he sounds pissed, something tells me this is going to turn ugly.

I'm stressed now from the mere thought of what's to come.

Mr Randle steps farther into the house, entering my view, though he doesn't see me standing like a deer in headlights in his kitchen. But I wish Steve was close. I can see his father is drunk, it's obvious. "Steven," he booms once more. His voice echoing through the halls, running as far from him as they can. Can't say I blame them. I wish I could too. "Now."

He starts to turn, my heart already races but proceeds to thump harder. If he can't hear it, I'll be shocked. But I swallow hard. I can hear the noise clearly in my ears, sounding a thousand decibels louder than what it actually is. But regardless, as Steve's father sways unsteadily, he reaches for the wall to steady himself – that wall that connects the kitchen to their front room.

And his gaze catches mine, his eyes narrowing.

I'm dead. Perhaps he won't actually lay a hand on me, but I'm dead. "And who the fuck do you think you are?" He doesn't recognize me. But I'm not complaining. "Steve, the hell you think you're doing, bringing cheap, dime store streetwalkers into my house!" He starts towards me, my anxiety climbing. I don't feel comfortable, and I'd give anything for Steve to hurry up.

Mr Randle blocks the entrance, leaving me without an escape, eventually cornering me. "No." I whimper, struggling to make myself smaller. But his dad simply chuckles, his breath stinks of alcohol.

"On second thought, you're a gorgeous youngin'," he smirks, stroking my hair. And I'm close to the verge of tears, having an idea of what he's capable of, and not wanting to test how far he'll take it with women. "Can see why that asshole brought ya home."

"Don't ya fuckin' dare touch her," someone growls – Steve. I can hear the anger in his voice, he's pissed. His dad is going to be pissed. And I'm still terrified. But he rips his dad off me with ease, pushing him off to the side. "I swear I won't hesitate to kill ya if you so much as lay a hand on her." He holds his arm out, allowing me to cling to him, something I'm thankful for.

His dad doesn't react as he props himself up against the table. Steve starts to lead me towards the front door, for a moment, I begin to wonder if his dad forgot what he was initially angry about. But before we're in the clear, his head lolls back, a glare sits on his face.

"I know you took my pack of cigarettes," he accuses, pushing himself up. Steve continues walking me to the door, watching over his shoulder for whatever drunken violence his father might attempt. "And I want 'em back."

"Too bad, I ain't got 'em. Your so-called work buddy probably stole 'em off you," Steve argues, reaching for the handle of the door. He coaxes me through, but I don't budge, although I'm well aware I'll be much safer outside. I can't bring myself to leave Steve.

But he pushes me through, shutting the door behind him before fighting with his old man.

XxXxXxX

Monday morning feels rather empty, Steve's sentence extending until at least Thursday. And whether he decides to show up then is anyone's guess. For now, he's left alone, sleeping around on different couches until his father allows him back into the house, throwing a handful of dollars at him to make up for his lack of parenting.

I'm left to walk to Spanish alone, entering into an almost empty classroom minus one of the quieter girls seated in the back corner. She remains mute, not even acknowledging she's no longer alone, and I'm left to take my own seat in silence.

More students file into the room as time passes, and while none of the faces belong to James, my heart leaps. Perhaps he'd gotten suspended too. Perhaps he'll learn not to mess with me or else Steve will get involved.

But all hopes are ripped away when he follows in a group of girls. His ever present smirk stretched across his lips, widening when he spots me.

I can't wait for the new seating chart.

"Good morning, Good Looking," he greets. And I still can't believe I have the misfortune of being seated next to him. "Heard the boyfriend got suspended." His friends all laugh in delight, pleased with how their friend managed to escape the punishment. Although I'm not surprised.

And I don't speak.

His pal across from me feigns a pout. "Oh, James, looks like Randle's got her tongue," he teases, proud of his own comment. "Something wrong, Princess? Did that nasty greaser cut your tongue out for talking back? I wouldn't put it past him." My head snaps towards him, glaring hard. He knows damn well he's crossed the line.

"Don't you dare talk about my boyfriend like that," I growl. And it'd been a nice attempt to ignore their comments. "He would never dare do such a thing." His friends begin to laugh, finding the humor I've seemed to miss.

"If that's what you think," James murmurs, following with a roll of his eyes. "He's a greaser."

And I can't take it, my patience running far thinner than it has in the past. I gather my things and rise to my feet, storming out before the bell rings. Because it won't hurt to miss one class.

XxXxXxX

Sodapop Curtis saves a seat alongside him for me, his already bright smile shining more when I step into the room. And while his uplifting personality is often infectious, it does nothing for me now. I'm sick to my stomach, thoughts of James's sick behavior dances in my head combined with remembering in second period that an unexcused absent results in a phone call home. I've decided I can't win.

And all I want is Steve.

"Hello, Miss Eileen," he greets, watching me snag the open seat. "Holdin' up alright without the big guy?" I'm sure any other time I'd find the humor in his comment. But today's officially reserved for being a stick in the mud. And as time ticks on, I realize I should've made the call home worth it and skipped the entire day.

"Chemistry was boring." I admit, digging out a pencil. Soda rests his head in his palm, watching me. His burning gaze makes me squirm. But I should be used to it, it's not uncommon for Steve to do it, intentionally to make me uncomfortable.

"Penny for your thoughts, what's wrong?"

And the long groan falls before I can catch it. "Nothing important."

"Liar."

"It's James!" I crack, the emotions that've been long bottled up bubbling to the surface, sneaking through the small cracks James puts on my exterior. Soda flinches. "I'm tired of him! I can't wait until summer, so I can finally get away from him!"

Soda glances back at me, the surprise from my outburst replaced with confusion. "Didn't Stevie show him you ain't interested?" I nod my head.

"But since Steve's suspended, he's upped his antics. He's even worse now." Soda thinks it over and nods his head slowly. Passing draws to an end once the bell rings, starting what feels like the longest class of the day. "If Steve finds out, he's going to be pissed." Soda chuckles, turning his attention towards the front of the classroom.

"You ain't a'woofin'."

XxXxXxX

Mom and Dad head out for a night on the town. And with Douglas and Imogene out with their friends, I'm left alone. But I like the silence, even when it begins to grow a bit overwhelming, it's better than forcing myself to have fun with friends.

And the only one who can bother me when I'm alone is myself.

Steve decides to show up uninvited, although he is the one and only person I want to see. "Hi, Doll, hope ya missed me," he climbs through, and once he sets foot on my floor, he bends his head to greet me with a kiss. "Cause I would've."

"Shocking."

His face falls with my heart, and I feel awful. Feel absolutely awful for potentially giving off the impression that I don't want to see him.

I wish I could put on the mask I've been wearing all this time, wish I could hide my feelings, wish I wasn't feeling responsible for all that's happened. More importantly, I still wish I had never gotten drunk and confessed my biggest secret to Steve.

"Still upset?" He inquires. I heave a sigh, dropping onto my bed. Nodding my head while my gaze catches on a patch of carpet. "It ain't your fault, Babe." He's right, it isn't. But I still can't shake the thought that I'm to blame.

If I had never unraveled to Soda, he and Two-Bit never would've gone after James.

"It is too," my voice cracks, a couple tears race down my cheeks. I reach to wipe them away, a bit angry with myself for allowing my walls to come crumbling down. But it's pointless, as soon as Steve slips his arm around my shoulders, more follow. "If I never told him, he wouldn't have fought. And now the three of you are suspended because of me."

In the months we've been dating, Steve's never quite figured out how to comfort me during my outbursts, even now, as he holds me a bit awkwardly, short, awkward pats to my hair, and he doesn't utter a single word.

"Neither of 'em give a damn 'bout their education," Steve reminds me. "Two-Bit probably woulda skipped the next few days anyway." He's not wrong, though it's not as comforting as he's meaning to be.

But I appreciate the effort regardless.

He continues holding me, amid the sadness and misery that's long been plaguing me, my heart swells with the love I have for Steve Randle. And one thought crosses my mind: I wish we could run away, run away to a town where no one knows our names and our problems don't exist.

But instead, I can only hope these problems clear up soon. Because normal is what I need right now.

I hope it wasn't too bad, it's a bit harder to get back into the groove of this story than I imagined!