Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders, and the song "About a Girl" belongs to Nirvana.

A/N: Sylvia's often portrayed as the two-timing bitch who cheated on Dallas and has no feelings. I'm writing this to show that it's possible that some girls have two sides of them. Rather than writing this story about her cheating on Dallas, I plan on writing why she cheated on Dallas.

I can't remember the last time I started a long fic. It's pretty exciting for me--I'm anxious to see what people think. I know this chapter's kind of boring, but aren't all first chapters? Any kinds of reviews are accepted, especially suggestions for ways I can improve my writing. Enjoy!

Chapter One: About A Girl

-- I need an easy friends, and I do with an ear to lend … --

Sylvia sighed.

Tim shook his head.

"Well, I can't be with you all the time."

"I know."

She knew he was looking at her, but she continued to stare out the window.

"It ain't like you're my girlfriend, you know?" he added

Sylvia did know. God, and he had to bring that up, like it was necessary at all. If she was a girl he was sleeping with, didn't that give her a right to spend time with him? Didn't that make it relevant for her to know when he was rumbling with different gangs?

His hands were gripping the steering wheel. He seemed to look angry, but he didn't have a damned reason to be.

"All I said was that I wanna spend more time with you," she repeated. Tim had a knack of taking things a few steps too far.

"Sylvia, I told you a million times, I got my own life. I got my gang I'm takin' care of, I got a teenage sister no one else is botherin' to look after, an' I got you hangin' off me. Give me some space. That's all I said."

She shook her head. Tim wasn't normally like this. Hell, sometimes he was even a little sweet. But just because they weren't officially dating, did that mean he was only willing to see her once a week?

"Okay, fine."

He pulled his truck into her driveway. "Look, I'll call you, all right?"

She shrugged. "Okay."

Tim was at least decent enough to phone her every few days.

She stepped out of the truck and walked up her driveway. She was miserable enough to actually stay home for a few days. Besides, when was the last time she actually slept in her own room?

"Hi, honey," her mother, Beth, said excitedly when Sylvia walked into the door.

"Hi."

"How've you been?"

Judy, Sylvia's younger sister, was smirking on the couch in the living room. "She's been pretty good with a certain Shepard, I been hearin'."

Sylvia gave Judy a sharp look. That Angela Shepard sure had a mouth on her.

"So Mom, how many beers would it take to get someone my age drunk?" eleven-year-old James asked Beth, sitting on the kitchen countertop beside their mother. Sylvia rolled her eyes at him. He was always trying to find ways to make her angry.

"James, leave Mom alone," Sylvia tried.

"Think I should find out?" he pressed on, growing a smile as their mother rolled her eyes.

Beth clenched her jaw. "James, don't start with me." She turned to Sylvia as James shrugged and hopped off the counter. "What are you up to tonight, sweetheart?"

"I guess I'm staying home."

"You're going to your father's tomorrow, right?"

Sylvia nodded.

"James, don't touch my hair!" Judy yelled and hit him with her magazine.

"Hey! That hurt!"

"Well, don't bother me!"

Their mother dropped her dishcloth and hurried over to the two, shouting and rolling her eyes. Sylvia felt something turn in her stomach. She was never like that with Judy or James; they were different. They may have been her family, but they had the sibling connection the blond never had.

They finally broke up the argument. In a few minutes, everything was back to normal.

"Hey, when's Dad coming home?" Judy asked, still sitting on the couch and flipping through the magazine, fiddling her finger through her light-brown hair.

Their mother shrugged and stirred the bowl of cake-mix. "Probably not for another hour."

James frowned and smoothed his dark hair with a comb. "Dad's always late coming home from work. How come?"

Sylvia felt the happiness inside her disappear. She hated it when the three talked about Bill. Couldn't they realize it made her upset? He wasn't her father, after all. There was a part of her inside that felt alone when she thought about it. It was like she was being left out.

She sighed and glanced at the calendar. Only one more night until she would eat supper with her real father like every Wednesday night.

--

Jonathan Reynolds ate more than anyone Sylvia had ever met in her life. He would finish his first plate, go on to the second, have desert, and still be hungry. It amazed her that he could stay in decent shape. Then again, most firefighters had to work out a lot or something. It would probably explain why he had so many girlfriends in his life.

But Sylvia loved her father more than anything. She didn't really care that her parents weren't together--they divorced when she was only two years of age--so there was nothing wrong with him dating other women.

She'd probably heard the tale of he and her mother's history a thousand times; they met, were married when she was nineteen, had Sylvia, divorced, and stayed okay friends. It wasn't like they were fighting every time they spoke. Sylvia had to respect that Jon was still staying in touch with her. Most of her friends' fathers or mothers left them in a ditch.

"How's school?" he asked her.

She swallowed her rice. "Good. How's work?"

"Good, good. Still dating that Tim boy?"

She smiled. They had a close enough relationship that he knew who Tim was, but obviously she wasn't dumb enough to bring him over. For all Jon knew he was a smart boy who was still in school and was very polite.

But she couldn't figure out why she was so close with him. Maybe it was because there were no other siblings to compete with, no one to steal the spotlight from her. She was glad he never got married again.

"Uh-huh," she replied, though they weren't really dating.

When she finished her plate, she took a blond curl and pulled it down, then watched it bounce back up.

"How's your mother doing? And Bill?"

Jon never liked Bill. Whether it was because Bill and Sylvia didn't really get along or because Jon was still in love with her mother, she didn't know. She thought maybe the fact that Bill was a recovering alcoholic had a strong role in his opinion.

They sat at the small table with silence. Finally, he said, "Do you want to do something on Friday night? Maybe we can go out to eat and then I can take you shopping…"

She bit back a huge grin. "Really? Can't find a date?"

He laughed. "Well, we haven't spent much time together in a while. I just thought it would be nice. So do you want to?"

"Dad, you know I do."

He smiled. "I thought you would."

--

"…so that would bring us to the answer X equals two." Mrs. Keller finished the equation with her chalk by drawing a box around the number two. "Any questions?"

Sylvia tapped her pencil on her paper and sighed. Tim hadn't called her since they went out on Tuesday. Did he find some humour in watching her suffer or something? Because she kind of wanted to talk to him.

"And Don told me he thought it was a bad idea," Jill whispered to Sylvia, laughing. "So I told him he could do whatever the hell he wanted with Lois if I could do whatever the hell I wanted with Frankie."

"What'd he say?" she asked, though she wasn't very interested.

"Oh, then he just shut up."

The bell rang. Sylvia gathered her books and stood up. Jill flipped her red hair over her shoulder and continued telling the blond about her argument with her boyfriend.

While in the hallway, they met up with Linda Green, who had another "interesting" story about her boyfriend.

Sylvia sighed when she reached her locker. It was like the entire world was obsessed with dating; it made her feel weird. Even Judy was starting to get boyfriends, some that Sylvia wasn't too happy with.

She shoved her books in her locker and wondered if Tim was thinking about her.

"David Glover is having a party tomorrow night," Jill announced. "He invited Craig, so I think that means all of you guys can come, too."

The blond was about to agree to go, but tossed her head back. "Shit. I have plans."

"Lemme guess--Tim Shepard?" Linda asked.

"Nope," Sylvia replied, shutting her locker. Someone better.

The three girls began making their way down the hall, discussing who was recently going with who and which girls were backstabbing which girls when they stepped out into the cold. The blond felt her legs shivering and wished she'd brought a jacket. Weather in February wasn't too warm

Jill raced over to one of the buses. "I'll catch y'all later."

Linda waved. She then turned to Sylvia. "I hear she's got something going with Frankie."

"Frankie's a pansy. He just--"

The brunette turned around sharply. "Don't stare, but that's Dallas Winston over there."

Sylvia looked over. She'd heard the name a few times before--he was good friends with Tim, he had told her--but she'd never actually caught a good look at him. He was standing in the parking lot, lighting a cigarette, with a brown leather jacket and ripped up jeans. Supposedly he was the town's biggest hood. Shit, he even had the blondest hair she'd ever seen.

"He dropped outta school a long time ago," Linda added. "I wonder what he's doin'."

"Don't be scared by him. He don't even grease his hair. Never mind Frankie--he looks like a damned pansy."