Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders

A/N: Just lately, I've been tackling Steve and Evie at the end of their relationship, from his perspective. But then I got pulled into a time vortex and Evie wanted to tell it from the beginning...

I knew she was up to something as soon as I saw her. Never mind that she was a full hour early and she knew I didn't finish work until six on Fridays. No, it was the way she smiled, like she had a new secret. I knew that look. That look had been pulling me into trouble since kindergarten.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed.

"Can you take off early? I wanna get ready at your house." She grinned at me.

"You don't need me there for that, Ma'll be in." I pretended to rearrange some long stemmed roses that looked just fine they way they were already.

"You gotta get ready too."

"You think so?" I said, sarcastically, " Jeez, I was just gonna go straight from work."

She stuck her tongue out at me, then quick as a wink, she turned around, face all angelic and opened her big, blue eyes wide. My boss was coming out from the back room.

"Miss Marian?" Sandy wheedled, "is there any chance you could let Evelyn go a little early?"

Marian smiled. "Got a big night planned?"

Sandy shrugged coyly. "There's a dance. It's only at the school, but..." Her tone of voice implied a whole lot more.

"But you want to get all prettified." Marian chuckled. "Got dates lined up?"

"No," I said at the same time as Sandy giggled. "Maybe." I looked at her in surprise. What had she done now?

"Aw, go on." Marian made a shooing gesture at me. "But I wanna hear all about it in the morning! I need some excitement in my old age." I laughed. Marian wasn't even thirty five and she was on at least her third husband, that I knew of. I thanked her and then Sandy and I ran for the bus stop.

I called hello as we went in the back door of my house and I grabbed a couple of Cokes from the fridge. Sandy picked up the glasses. We weren't above drinking from the bottle, but it's kind of hard to get the vodka down the neck of those bottles without spilling it. Sometimes the best part of going out is the getting ready.

"That you, Evie?" Ma yelled back. Whoever the hell else she thought it could be, I knew she wouldn't get up from the couch. Glory, Tim Shepard and his whole gang could romp through the house before she'd miss a minute of one of her soap operas.

Sandy had been enjoying her secret all the way on the bus and I'd long ago given up asking her anything when she was in that sort of mood. If she didn't want to tell, she wouldn't. I sometimes thought it was a shame I didn't have any real big secrets in my life, because she was a good friend to trust with stuff you wanted kept private.

She started looking at the clock a lot as we got dressed. I had a new eyeliner I was trying out, so I was concentrating on getting a straight line. After she checked the window for the second time, I turned around from the mirror and looked at her hard. She relented, finally.

"I got us a ride."

"To the dance? Great." I was impressed, but also knew enough to be suspicious. "Who with?" I stood up and let her look me over, to get approval of my outfit and make up.

"You look perfect. You're gonna blow his mind."

"Who?" A ride was one thing, but this was sounding like something a bit more serious. "What have you done?"

The sound of a car pulling up outside made her lean over and pull the blind aside again. She laughed. "Surprise!"

"Here? You got someone to pick us up here?" I knelt on the bed next to her to look out the tiny window. I got the attic space, but at least I don't have to share with my square of a sister.

"Well, they couldn't come to my house, could they?" Fair enough, her stepdad was a bona fide psycho, whereas my mom probably wouldn't even notice.

I think my mouth dropped open when I saw him get out of the car. He didn't come up to the house, just leaned on the car, looking up in our direction. Sandy squeaked with excitement and let the blind fall. I stared at her.

"I know." She grinned at me, enjoying my reaction. "Fuckin' far out, ain't it? Like, beyond far out!"

"You didn't? How did you? When did you?" I wasn't making much sense, I knew.

"I been goin' over to the DX after school."

"You and half of Tulsa."

"Well, half of Tulsa can kiss my ass, because he asked me to the dance!" She straightened out her mini skirt in front of the mirror and headed out the door.

I was absorbing this news as we went down the stairs.

You ever play that game, what would I do if a million dollars landed on my doorstep? Like, make shopping lists of houses and clothes and jewelry and shit? But just for kicks, you know it won't ever really happen. At my school, the variation was, what would I do if Sodapop Curtis landed on my doorstep? At least the clean version was. The walls in the girls' bathroom had a whole other set of suggestions as to where he could land.

Guess Sandy hadn't given up playing.

As we went past the living room, I yelled, "Bye, Ma." She probably heard. I grabbed Sandy's arm to stop her hurtling out the front door. "Wait a second? That his car?" I wasn't sure that Sodapop had a car of his own.

Sandy smiled at me. "Nah, they come as a pair, don't they? You'll like him..." She was gone, practically skipping down the path. And I knew who she'd set me up with. Shit.

As I walked slowly down to the sidewalk, Sandy was closing in on Sodapop, like a cat when it greets you by twining up against you. Sometimes they trip you up that way, cats. She leaned against him and he slid his arms around her. They spoke so quietly I didn't catch what they said, but he smiled, as if he liked what he heard. They moved as I reached them and he opened the doors, front and back.

"You know Evie, don'tcha?" Sandy asked, climbing into the back of the car.

"Sure." Sodapop smiled easily. "Hey, Evie." Liar, I thought, as he jumped in after Sandy, leaving the front seat for me. No way he knew who I was.

I resigned myself to getting in the front seat. It was cleaner than I'd anticipated, which was a pleasant surprise, given the beat up state of the car.

"Steve, you remember Evie?" Sodapop prompted, his arm around Sandy in the back seat.

"Yup." Steve Randle hit the gas hard and we roared away from my house.

"Bullshit," I muttered to myself. Neither of these guys had known I existed at school. Steve cracked a half smile.

"Math, Mr Ferguson, second period, Wednesdays. You used to sit by the window in the back row," he said, without looking at me, as he took a right turn, real fast. Well, what d'ya know?

"I needed the fresh air, what with Ferguson's bad breath n' all," I said. He snorted. "This your car?" I asked, for something to say.

He shrugged."Fixin' it up for the boss, he gives me get a cut when he sells 'em on."

"An' you get to drive 'em in the meantime...?"

He smiled to himself, said nothing. I figured using the cars on a weekend was maybe not part of the deal with his boss. Sandy giggled in the back. I saw Steve's eyes flick to the rear view mirror and he shook his head the tiniest fraction. I wondered how he liked being Sodapop Curtis's wingman.

The parking lot was already pretty full when we got to the school. There was an awkward moment when Steve and Sandy got out their tickets. Since neither Soda nor I went to school anymore, we were officially their guests. Steve reached back to hand his spare ticket to Soda at the same time that Sandy offered him hers. Soda took Sandy's.

I held my hand out as Steve turned back around. He tossed the ticket into my palm casually and turned to open his door, without a word.

"Thanks so much for inviting me. I feel so special," I said acidly and I got out of the car. Maybe I slammed the door a little harder than I needed to.

See, this is why my heart sank when I realised who Sandy'd set me up with. Oh, I knew she'd hit the jackpot. But Sodapop's gorgeous cloud came with a jet black lining. For some reason he was best friends with the worst tempered guy in the world. I'd seen Steve square up to guys in the middle of the hallway for nothing more than looking at him wrong.

Worse than that was the nagging feeling it gave me, that I was also the second prize in the double date lottery. It wasn't the first time she'd bagged a guy that she thought was the most, leaving me to entertain his friend, or visiting cousin, or whoever she persuaded him to drag along. I'd seen their faces fall when I came into view, the little shadow behind her shiny blonde halo. I'd even heard one whisper once, "How come you always get the stacked one?" He did not enjoy the rest of his evening, I can promise you that.

Steve was looking at me across the car, with a puzzled expression. "I didn't invite you," he said, in response to my sarcasm. "I didn't know I was coming with you."

"Right back at ya, bud," I snapped.

We fell in behind Soda and Sandy. I wondered if we were a little late on purpose, so she could make a bigger entrance with Soda. Didn't look like she was letting go of his arm any time soon.

The cop on the door looked bored. "No alcohol, boys," he said. It was hard to tell if he was asking them or warning them. He didn't pat them down or anything. He didn't ask to look in Sandy's or my purse either. Sucker.

"Talking of alcohol," Soda said over his shoulder, as we went in to the gym, the noise of the band muffling his words some. "Is Two-Bit gonna make it? He was supposed to bring Johnny if he did."

Steve shrugged. "I dunno. He said something about goin' out with Dally, but maybe that was later."

"Sylvia said she wasn't coming tonight." Sandy volunteered. "What with Dallas bein' banned from the school grounds."

"Good." Steve grunted. I looked at him in surprise. I thought Dallas was one of their friends. Then Soda grinned and said to Steve, "You still hacked with her, man?" And I realized Steve's comment had been about Sylvia.

I looked at Steve carefully, without him noticing. I didn't like Sylvia much. Since I dropped out, she and Sandy had really gotten tight at school. But she pulled Sandy into trouble, the way that Sandy pulled me, only more so. Sylvia was older than us, I don't mean because she should've been in the grade above, although that was true, but in the way that she acted. Nothing held her back. Most guys seemed to dig that, since it meant she laughed more, drank more and put out more than other girls. I wondered why Steve didn't like her.

I also wondered if she'd been Sandy's introduction to Sodapop, if maybe Sylvia wanted one of Dallas's friends dating one of hers. If she did, I was suspicious. I didn't trust her.

We'd wandered past the refreshment table and snagged paper cups of whatever was passing for punch. Making for the corner of the room, we huddled casually around Sandy as she doled out vodka from the bottle in her purse. Can't say it made the stuff taste any better, but that wasn't the point.

Suddenly Soda's head came up as the band started playing a new song. "I love this," he said, shoving his now empty cup at Steve and pulling Sandy away. "Let's dance!" She thrust her cup and purse at me and they were gone into the crowd.

Steve looked at me juggling two cups and purses, with that half smile I was starting to recognise. He drained his own cup, crumpled both his and Soda's together and lobbed the resulting ball in the vague direction of the refreshment table. Then he leaned back on the wall, his hands in his pockets.

I raised an eyebrow at this stunning display of gentlemanly behaviour. I poured what was left of Sandy's drink into my own, stacked her cup under mine, which freed up one hand to put both purses on the floor. Then I drank up, crumpled the two cups and, with a quick glance around, I threw them like he had. Only my aim was better and I hit the socy boy who was serving the punch, smack on the side of the head. And of course, I'd immediately turned around so I was facing the other way, leaving only Steve in the kid's line of vision.

Steve's face contorted, as he realised what I'd done and he was forced to lever himself off the wall into an aggressive pose, fronting down the kid's indignant squawk, glaring as if he was prepared to take the matter further. The kid backed down straight away when he realised who Steve was. As Steve turned back to me, I leaned back on the wall, mimicking his previous attitude, although I didn't have pockets in the front of my capris. Still, it was a pretty good impression.

For a second, I thought I might've overplayed it. Might have pissed him off. But he grinned slowly and said, "Nice aim."

"Thanks." I smiled back.

"So, you workin' somewhere this year?" He seemed genuinely interested. I liked that he asked it that way, not 'You dropped out, then?'

"The flower shop in the new shopping centre, down at the end of The Ribbon." I told him.

He nodded, like he knew where it was, which I'm sure he didn't. "I figured, since you ain't been down to the DX with Sandy after school."

The music had changed again and I looked around but there was no sign of Sandy.

"He likes dancin'." Steve followed my gaze. "Probably be gone a while yet."

Oh. He thought I was looking for Sodapop.

"I was hopin' to give Sandy her purse back, so I can dance myself," I explained. He pulled a face, like he was being asked to give blood.

"You wanna dance?" he said grudgingly.

"Glory, don't do me any favors! I can dance without you," I said defiantly.

To my surprise, he looked kind of sheepish. "I ain't real good, is all," he mumbled.

"Well, it don't matter, 'cause I ain't lookin' to leave these and lose what's in 'em." I shrugged. Steve looked around and motioned for me to pick up the purses and follow him.

We approached the seats at the edge of the gym and he went up to one of the chaperones, Miss Fletcher, one of the oldest teachers in school. To my amazement, she smiled at him and said hello.

"I was wondering, ma'am, if we could leave these here by you? My date's friend didn't come back yet and I promised her a dance."

"Certainly, Steven, very sensible." She beamed at him. Steve looked at me and I put the purses on the seat next to her.

As we walked away, I hissed at him. "What if she looks inside?"

"She won't." He chuckled. "She loves me, I've had her for Math for years." He looked at my sceptical face. "What? I'm lovable! An' I'm good at Math, one of her best!"

As we got out there and found a space on the dance floor, the band switched songs again, starting up a reasonable cover of 'Don't Worry Baby' by The Beach Boys. I paused, now that this was a slower tempo. Steve just nodded.

"Even better, slow I can do." He held me real close.

As we danced, something occurred to me. "You have Miss Fletcher for Math?"

He nodded.

"So how come you knew I had Ferguson?" I asked suspiciously.

"I never said I was in the same class." He got defensive, but he didn't let go of me. I just looked up at him, with an expression that let him know I wanted an answer.

"History. Wednesdays, period two, I had History last year. Nearly failed it, too."

"How come? Not so good at History?"

"Nah," Steve Randle grinned at me, "Had a window seat. Kept getting distracted. You can see right across to the back row of Ferguson's room from History."