This is my contribution for Good Fic Day. The only thing I own is a vivid imagination. The rest belongs to S.E. Hinton.

In Comparison

Curly Shepard stepped out of the shower, rubbed a towel over his dripping hair, dried off his body then wrapped the towel around his waist. He grabbed his toothbrush out of the cabinet and brushed his teeth then wiped the steam off the mirror.

Examining his face for some trace of a beard or mustache or something, he sighed, giving up once again. He combed his hair back and wiped the mirror again. His hair was starting to get long and he was needing more and more hair oil to keep his dark brown curls in place. Maybe he'd get a haircut tomorrow.

He looked at his face in the mirror. He thought he still looked like a kid. His eyes were dark and sort of hard but not nearly as dark or as hard as Tim's eyes. There was still some sort of brightness in his own. His nose was straight and not too big. Not like Tim who had a bump in his from getting it busted a couple times. His mouth, while he could sneer and look tough when he had to, was full and soft looking. Tim always looked like he was sneering. Usually, Tim's mouth was just a hard thin line.

Curly was growing. At least he was getting to be almost as tall as Tim. He had a good build for 16. He was lean like Tim but Tim had more definition. Curly supposed he could lift weights like Tim so he could be cut, too.

Curly thought about his walk. He was always tripping over his big feet. Tim always walked confident and sure. One of these days, when he stopped growing, Curly knew he'd walk as confident as Tim did.

Making a goofy face at himself in the mirror, Curly turned and left the bathroom and headed for his bedroom to get dressed.

Curly turned on an Animals record he'd swiped from Tim's room and pulled on underwear and his only clean pair of jeans. Curly smiled at how snug they felt. They had been hand-me-downs of Tim's from two years ago and Curly was finally able to fill them out.

He absent-mindedly sang along to 'House of the Rising Sun' while putting on a blue t-shirt and his leather jacket, another of Tim's throw-aways. He found a pair of socks with no holes in them and laced up his boots, which made him only a hair shorter than Tim when he wore them.

He put his wallet and comb in his back pocket and grabbed his cigarettes off his dresser and went to take one last look at himself in the bathroom mirror.

He made a tough face at himself in the mirror. One day, it would come more natural.

Curly bounded down the stairs and out the front door, down the street and to the park. He popped his collar, lit a cigarette and sauntered up to a small group of girls where one girl was smiling brightly at him, her blue eyes sparkling as she made eye contact.

"Hey, Curly," the petite brunette said, excitedly.

Curly put his arm around her and leaned down to brush her cheek with his lips, "Hey, Denise."

Yeah, one day being like Tim would come natural but, at this exact moment, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, a pretty girl on his arm and the whole night ahead of him, Curly Shepard was satisfied being who he was.