DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Outsiders. S.E. Hinton does. If you didn't know that, and you don't know what The Outsiders is, please go back to school and fix your dumb brain. Thank you!

Chapter One

"Rosalind Marks, please come to the stand."
Silently, I got up from my seat and took a seat at the witness stand. This was my first time in a courtroom, which made me nervous. What kind of questions are they going to ask me? Will they think I'm lying?

They made me take the oath and I sat back in the hard, wooden chair. An attorney for my mother walked up and took a long look at me.

Lie for me baby, please, Mom had said to me that morning. How could I lie for her when I knew how many people's lives she'd affected? I stared out into the courtroom and saw Mary Oxford and her parents, sitting along-side Chris Carter and his dad. That's a site I probably won't see for the rest of my life. Two enemies, coming together because of the pain that my mother had caused both their families. My eyes kept scanning the crowd and then I saw them. Darry, Sodapop, and Ponyboy Curtis were sitting in the back row, wearing the nicest clothes they could find, staring at me with gentle eyes.

"Rosalind Marks, did you know that your mother had taken part in the murder of George Oxford and Marianne Carter?"

I swallowed. "No…I had no idea."

"Were you aware that you're mother had almost 7 different guns hidden in her bedroom?"

"No."

"And do you know who David Manson is? The man who helped your mother with these murders?"

"No, sir." I said quietly. I knew very well who David Manson was. Mom's little boy toy. God, I hated him.

"Alright, young lady. One last time, just for good measure. Do you know anything about your mother's association with the murders of George Oxford and Marianne Carter?"

I looked into the crowd again. Mary Oxford and Chris Carter were both staring at me with pleading eyes. I looked down at my feet, and then back up at them. They were still there. Nothing had changed. I quickly looked over at Sodapop, my best friend since we were in 4th grade, who was staring at me with scrunched eyebrows. He knew everything, just like I did. He knew I was lying. The look on his face was too much to bear. He was…disappointed.

I looked the attorney right in the eye and said, "My mom did it. She killed George and Marianne. David Manson helped her, and some other guy. I think his name was Mark…Mark Ybarra."

I let out a deep breath, as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

"Thank you, Ms. Marks. You may take a seat."

Shakily, I got up from the witness stand and walked over to my seat, right behind the table my mom was sitting at. I avoided making any eye contact with her at all costs; I didn't think I could handle whatever hateful look she'd give me.

A Week Later.

"Rosalind Marks, you have the option of going into Witness Protection, where you will be given a new identity and a new family to live with, in another state. The reason you are given this option is because Mark Ybarra has not been arrested, nor found since the conviction of your mother and David Manson. If you choose not to join Witness Protection, you may live under the custody of Darryl Curtis, given permission."

I sat in a chair across from a detective who seemed like he was over-acting at his own job. Darry was sitting in a chair next to me, and Sodapop and Ponyboy were waiting outside.

I cleared my throat. "I'd like to live with the Curtis family." I said, giving Darry a nervous glance. The detective raised his eyebrows.

"Darryl Curtis, do you agree with this decision?"

Darry nodded. "Of course."

And it was a done deal.

Two Years Later.

I sat on the couch, looking through an old journal I used to write in as an attempt to document part of my life. It was depressing, I have to say.

Dear Journal,

Dally and Johnny are both dead.

Pasted into the notebook were two pictures, one of Dally and one of Johnny. I ran a finger over both, as if feeling the photo would compare to seeing them in person.

I flipped the page.

Dear Journal,

Today, we all went to Johnny's funeral. Depressing. Also, Sandy cheated on Soda and got knocked up. Soda won't talk to anyone.

"Hey Rose! Whatcha doin'?" I turned around and saw Soda leaning in the doorway of my room. Well technically it was his room; but after Johnny died, Ponyboy started having nightmares. Soda moved into Ponyboy's room and I took his room for myself.

I closed the journal quickly and tossed it onto the shelf it had been on. "Nothin'" I said, lying back on my bed.

Soda changed the subject. "You got work today, missy. Get dressed." He said simply, and walked out of my room.

I groaned and got up from my bed and changed out of my pajamas and into my 'Laurel's Floral Shop' uniform, which consisted of a floral shop t-shirt and a pair of jeans. I quickly took a glance around my room, which was pretty much empty besides the shelves of books and my bed. Then I walked into the bathroom and splashed some water on my face and took a look in the mirror. My brown hair was wavier than usual today. I quickly pulled it up into a ponytail and walked out, saying by to Ponyboy and Soda on my way out.

When I got to the shop, Laurel was already there, cleaning the vases.

"Hey, Laurie," I said with a smile as I walked in. Laurel was about 68 years old, and loved flowers. She had 3 grandchildren that she loved unconditionally, and was probably the most adorable old person I'd ever met.

"Hi sweetie," She said, walking over and giving me a quick hug. I went and took my place behind the register as she flipped the 'closed' sign to 'open' and waited to assist anyone that came in.

About 3 hours later, I was on my lunch break. I headed over across the street to the DX, where Soda and Steve worked. As I walked into the garage, I glanced at the clock. It was noon. Normally, I would've been in school at this time, but summer just began and I took more hours at the shop. When I returned to school in the fall, I would be a senior.

"Rose!" Steve yelled as I walked in. He ran towards me and scooped me up into a hug.

"Woah there, Steve. Where's the fire?" I laughed as he put me down. I walked over to where Soda was working and sat on the hood of the car. "Whatcha workin' on, Soda?"

"Just some beat up car that some man brought in. There really ain't no use to fixin' it." Soda said, sighing and climbing out from under the car.

"We goin' to the Dingo tonight?" Steve yelled from across the garage.

"I was thinkin' maybe we could go to Buck's," I said softly. We all went silent.

No one had gone to Buck's since Dally died. Word on the street is that Buck didn't throw a party for a whole week after the incident.

After a long silence, Sodapop spoke up.

"Um, yeah, I guess we could go there. Wonder what Buck's been doin'."

"Probably still gettin' drunk and havin' people over," I snorted, hopping off the hood of the car and getting back to the shop.

"I'll see you guys after work!"

"Heyyyyyyy Rose!" Buck called out my name as he chugged a beer and Soda, Steve, and I walked in.

"Hey Buck," I said as he handed me a beer. Steve took one off the counter and Sodapop looked around. Sodapop never drank, and everyone knew that

Buck's place was in full blast as always, which made me miss Dally a whole lot. Dally never got a funeral, since the police thought of him as a criminal. Darry held a dinner as sort of a memorial service, and the whole gang was there.

I ended up losing track of Soda and Steve, and Buck got me way too many drinks than I should have had, but I took the shots and beer happily, until I was dancing with practically everyone in the house.

I did my usual flirting with any cute guy I saw, trying to remember their names and what they looked like so I could describe them to Soda later that night. Everything seemed too much of a blur, though, and I ended up making-out with some guy who told me I had nice legs.

Then 20 minutes later, I still didn't know the whereabouts of Steve and Soda and I figured they had picked up some girls, so I started to head home. The party was dark and I couldn't make out who I was walking by, what with all the drinks I'd had and the commotion going on all around me. I felt someone grab my wrist and pull me toward them, wrapping an arm around my waist. He said my name and I giggled, losing my balance and leaning towards him. I felt our lips meet, and we made-out in the middle of the dance floor. There was something familiar about this guy though, and I couldn't, for the life of me, remember what it was. Maybe it was someone from school that I couldn't remember at the moment.

Then suddenly the familiarity hit me like a wave. The smell, the way he touched me, the way he had said my name.

It was Sodapop.

R&R? Good choice, hahaha. :)