A/N: The Outsiders belongs to SE Hinton. This story starts a few months before the book.

It's a story I've had on the site for ages, but I've been doing quite a lot of editing/rewriting on it, to try to improve it—and hopefully also to help me get past the writers block I've been having with my other fic!

I hope you enjoy it :)

THESE STREETS

CHAPTER ONE

March 1965.

Tuesday evening.

"So you're sure you know where Myers will be?" I ask as Nick swings the Ford left, turns onto a street lined with junk shops, bars and boarded up shops. It's a real dump, even for our side of the town.

Slowing the car to a stop, Nick nods then gestures towards the buildings opposite. "Yeah, Shepard, of course I'm sure. I've got it on good authority he'll be down here this evening. Same as he is every Tuesday these days."

Getting out the car, I head towards the small bar opposite. It's a couple of streets outside of our territory, so it ain't somewhere I hang out all that often. Tend to do most of our drinking in Buck's place these days, on account of his laid back attitude to ID requirements and the fact he can be persuaded to let me run a tab. But then I never figured it for a place where I'd find any member of the River Kings either, let alone their boss. I sure don't recall coming across anyone connected to them in there in the past anyways.

Only Nick's stopping me before I even get close to the door. "Nah, Tim, not in there."

"Where then?"

He tilts his head slightly to the right, points. "Next door."

The paint is peeling from the brickwork but the faded sign above the door is just about still readable, says 'O'Connell's Boxing Club'. And what with the small high windows it don't exactly look inviting, seems a bit of a dive. But if this is where Myers is going to be, then I guess I need to get inside. Get this done.

Stepping inside I pause, take a few seconds to get accustomed to my surroundings, try to suss out the layout, where Myers might be. Only while I'm standing here assessing my surroundings, Nick claps me on the shoulder, points towards the door across the hall with office painted on it in gold letters. "I'll be two secs. Then we'll go find him." And before I can reply, he's sticking his head round the door and calling out a hello to whoever's inside, asks if Myers is in tonight.

Peering over his shoulder, it doesn't exactly surprise me that it's a girl he's talking to—guy knows broads everywhere.

She's chewing on the end of her pen, smiling at Nick. And I guess she's cute enough, though she don't seem like his usual type, don't recall seeing the two of them together anywhere. "Yeah, they're here." She glances up at the clock. "Probably still be out back, for another five minutes or so."

Down the hall, I can just see the main part of the club, a large square room with a boxing ring in the centre, punch bags and weight benches along the other side. All around me the walls are lined with posters advertising old fights and faded photographs of boxers holding up belts and trophies. All looks like nothing's been changed in years. There's a couple of guys sparring in the ring and I recognise Frank O'Connell, the owner of the place, who's leaning on the ropes shouting orders at them. He used to be a fighter himself, and he ain't someone I'm dumb enough to want to mess with, even if he must be pushing fifty now.

No. I'm here to search out the boss of the River Kings. Stop things blowing up between us. And the reason I'm doing this, rather than kicking back with a beer and taking it easy after a day on the construction sites is simple.

Curly.

He's not dumb, despite what people seem to think. But he doesn't exactly do anything to help that impression when he gets caught up doing stupid jobs without any thought of the damn consequences. Because only my kid brother would think it was a smart idea to break into a liquor store in another gang's territory, and then think it was funny when the cops arrest some River Kings boy for it. Well, I suppose that part is kind of funny—not that I'd admit it to Curly—but the rest of it ain't. Especially not the part where Wayne Myers knows it was him 'cause Curly was seen driving away from the store—in my car.

So now Myers and his boys are out for payback and it's up to me to smooth things over. The last thing I need to happen is a full on war with the River Kings, I've got too much other crap to think about without adding yet another unnecessary conflict to the mix. So things need fixing. Now. before it gets out of hand.

"Myers."

"Shepard, surprised to see you here," Wayne remarks, sounding anything but, as he continues strapping up his hands, all the while watching me. Wayne's about as tall as me, tough looking and muscular, a couple of years older than I am.

"Think we need to settle things, set things straight."

"Yeah? I reckon your problem is that idiot brother of yours, not us," interrupts Wayne's brother, who's also there inside the room sitting on the table, smoking.

Pete's around my age and if you didn't know they were brothers you wouldn't ever guess him and Wayne were related. Not going on appearance anyway. Under the surface, though, they're both pretty hard, with a reputation for being tough and unforgiving to their own guys and anyone else who crosses them. So I suppose that's another reason why I feel the need to be here and intervene on Curly's behalf.

"Don't fucking recall asking for your opinion, I'm here to talk with the boss, not his idiot brother," I snap before turning back to Wayne, ignoring Pete who's on his feet, an angry expression on his face. "Now what Curly did was stupid, I'll admit that, but it ain't my problem the police got a witness who can't tell one hood from another. We need to keep things good between us, it'd be pointless to let this blow up, give Tiber Street the opportunity to take over this whole side of town while we get caught up fighting each other."

Wayne doesn't answer straight away, looks like he's considering my suggestion, and I try not to let on how much his silence is annoying me. Because I know he's only trying to make it seem like he's in control of the situation, try to work it to his advantage somehow—or at least that's what I'd be doing if I was in his shoes.

"Well, your brother needs to learn there's consequences, that he can't run around in our territory doing what he pleases just 'cause he's a Shepard. But then again I've no wish to give those Tiber Street assholes the chance to expand. We've mainly managed to get along without bothering each other too much in the past, Shepard, so I tell you what, you let me take him on in a fair fight and we'll call things even. Saves me having to send anyone to hunt him down, and settles things once and for all."

Wayne steps a little closer to me and from the corner of my eye I can tell that both Nick and Pete are both tensed, ready and waiting to get involved if anything kicks off.

"A fair fight yes, but not you. Someone else from your gang instead," I bargain back. Don't take a genius to realise that Wayne could probably take Curly out in about two minutes flat. Maybe quicker.

Wayne laughs, shrugs at me. "Yeah, okay. Well how about Pete then, let my kid brother take on yours?"

Looking Pete over again, I guess Curly is at least as tall, if not as strong, and if nothing else I suppose he would stand a better chance against him than Wayne.

But before I can agree another voice interrupts us. "Hey, Wayne, Frank's ready for you now."

The girl from the office wanders in, stopping just inside the door. Yeah, she definitely looks a little familiar although I can't place where I recognise her from right now.

"Jesus, Wayne, you trying to make him mad today?" she continues. "You know how he is about the rules. He he won't stand for no fighting outside the ring."

Myers nods at her. "Yeah, thanks, darling. Tell him we'll be right there."

"You too, Nick, thought you'd know better than coming in he and starting something, you know what he's like about trouble." Smiling at Nick, she stands with her shoulder resting against the door frame, arms folded, while he grins back at her.

"Sorry, sweet, we had some business to sort out. You know how it goes," Nick replies, grinning, while she rolls her eyes at him.

I scowl at her, don't need some broad getting involved. Just need to get this sorted. So I turn to Wayne, try to steer the conversation back to the matter in hand.

"Okay, Myers, it's a deal. Your brother takes on mine. Friday night, at nine, I'll bring Curly, settle this whole mess once and for all?"

"Well, at least until the next stupid thing he does anyway." Pete mutters, laughing.

"Okay." Wayne holds out his hand for me to shake. "Over on fifth, behind the warehouse in that vacant lot."

"Deal. No trouble in the meantime, I'll tell my boys and you keep yours under control too."

We're still face to face in the middle of the room, neither of us wanting to be the first to back away.

And then the damn girl starts up chattering again. "Come on, guys, cut it out. You know he'll come back here for you if you're not out there in a minute, Wayne, then he'll be real cross."

"It's alright, these boys were about to leave, weren't you?" Pete offers.

Glancing across at him, I'm amused to see that the younger Myers can't seem to take his eyes off of her whereas she seems keen to look at anything or anybody else, her eyes casting around the room before she looks up, catching me watching her, blushes a little.

"Jesus, Leigh, damn well tell them to hurry the hell up, or must I do everything?" Frank yells from down the corridor.

The smile fades from her face. "Well thanks for nothing, now he's mad with me too," she snaps, pushing herself away from the door frame before turning and leaving the room and seconds later Frank appears in the doorway, frowning.

"Come on, Myers, get your damn gloves on and get in the ring, now. Next time Leigh there asks you to do something, you damn well show her and me enough fucking respect as to listen, you understand? You know how it works in here. Respect me, my family and the club." Frank glares at him, then turns his anger on me and Nick. "And you two, if you're not here for boxing then get the hell out."