That's Life for You

Chapter 1

A/N: This is a Outsiders story I have posted on Fanficton and I thought I'd post it here too since that site doesn't seem to be getting much traction.

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May 25th 1965

The air is thick with smoke from people's cigarettes, and the music is blaring so loud that the whole house is vibrating. I draw in a deep breath trying desperately to calm my nerves, but all I inhale is smoke causing me to cough. The guy closest to me finds that amusing, and he laughs. I feel my face heat up in embarrassment, and all I wanna do at that moment is turn and run out of the house into the cool night air. I don't though. I force myself to push my way through the crowd and into the kitchen.

I spot him almost immediately. He's leaning against the wall, a beer in his hand. Suddenly, he looks up, and a slow smirk forms on his face when our eyes meet. He doesn't make a move towards me though, and I know, as usual, I will have to be the one to go to him, which I do.

Wordlessly, I take the bottle from his fingers and take a long drink, the unfamiliar liquid burning the back of my throat. He watches me with an amused expression and takes the beer back, drains the rest, and sets the now empty bottle on the counter.

"Aren't you out past your curfew, Curtis? What would big brother say?" He asks with that same smirk playing on his lips.

"He won't say anything," I retort back wrapping my arms around myself. Because he won't find out, I add silently. At least I pray he won't. I can only imagine what would happen if Darry ever did find out. He'd probably hand deliver me over to the state.

I watch as he grabs two more beers from the icebox, pops the top of one, and hands it over to me. Obediently I down almost half of it.

"That a girl, Curtis," he says, and I lap up his approval like it's water, and I'm starving in the desert.

Grabbing my hand, he pulls me through the kitchen and up the stairs. My stomach is starting to flutter when he pushes open a door and tugs me inside.

The room is dark, and it takes my eyes a minute to adjust. The palms of my hands are starting to get tingly; something they always do when I'm nervous. My heart is pounding so loud that I can hear it in my ears. The urge to flee is strong.

His hands are on my waist, and he's pulling me against his body. "Tim," I whisper before his mouth covers mine. I push every thought out of my mind and just focus on him. How his touch makes me feel. Wanted.

His fingers travel under my blouse causing me to shiver. Lazily, his fingers moved to and down my sides, his lips moving more roughly against mine.

His hot breath is on my neck, and my back hits the bed. This will be worth it, I tell myself when he begins to unbutton my blouse. I don't push his hands away like I usually do. I know if I stop him this time that will be it.

His hands are groping me roughly, and my skirts hiked up. I want to tell him to stop, but I can't make the words come out. It doesn't last nearly as long as I thought it would. He rolls off me, and I sit up slowly.

He flips the light switch, and the room is flooded in brightness. I blink rapidly from the harshness of the light and watch him button his jeans back up. I fumble with the buttons on my blouse and try to get them done up with shaky hands.

"Where are you going?" I hear myself ask when he pulls on his boots.

"I have stuff I need to take care of," he replies nonchalantly.