Categories > Books > Outsiders
Back To School
0 ReviewsCOMPLETED Angela Shepard starts off her first day at high school in true Shepard fashion. ONE-SHOT
Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns the characters you'll read about in this fic. I just like to borrow. There's also a little nod here to "Peggy Sue Got Married" - a line, really. I just borrowed that for fun as well.
Author's Note: This one-shot is being posted as part of "Good Fic Day," an effort to raise the quality of writing here. We hope to encourage more writers to improve the quality of their own fan fiction - spell check, grammar check, keep the gang in character, outline, plot and don't use Mary Sues. Good fan fiction requires effort, and we would like to encourage other writers to rise to the challenge of producing better fan fiction, not only for our readers, but for S.E. Hinton, who created the wonderful book we are trying to honour. If you'd like help with your writing, or just want to chat about the Outsiders, visit the 731 board - the link is in my profile.
XXXX
Back To School
Angela Shepard leaned towards her mirror and applied the red lipstick carefully. She stood back when she was done and admired her handiwork.
Her black hair was long and loose, she’d spent a half hour perfecting her eyeliner and putting on those damn false lashes, and she couldn’t wait to get to high school.
High school was where it was at anyway. Sure she’d gotten plenty of attention in middle school, and she’d spent enough time hanging around Will Rogers to get to know guys like Pete Malcolm and Raymond Roth. Grace Mathews had always given her grief because she rode the same bus as them and Ray paid her more attention than he ever paid Grace.
It would be different running around there for keeps.
She grabbed her empty book bag and headed to the kitchen.
“Angela, what are you doing?” her mother asked, exasperated. This must be a good day, because her mother was dressed and had her hair freshly curled. Hank must be making nice somehow.
“What do you mean what am I doing?” she asked, pouring herself a glass of orange juice.
“You march upstairs and change and take all that makeup off,” her mother said frowning. “This is school, not a weekend with your friends.”
“Mom!”
“Do it,” her mother said firmly.
She gave an exasperated huff and marched back up the stairs, passing Curly on his way down.
“Where're you headed? Clown convention?”
“Fuck you,” she snarled at him.
“Watch your mouth, Angel,” Tim said as she came into the bathroom, pushing him away from the sink so she could grab a tissue.
“I don’t see the big deal,” she said, gently blotting the lipstick off. “All the girls wear makeup.”
“All the girls don’t wear so much you can’t see their face,” Tim said. “Christ, you look cheap. You step outta here and go to school in that, I’ll skin you.”
She looked down at the short skirt.
“You don’t say nothin’ when I wear this to the movies.”
“That’s to the movies. They ain’t gonna give you detention for flashing a little leg there,” Tim said, spitting his toothpaste in the sink.
“Well, now I’m gonna be late,” she said, trying to scrub some of the eyeliner off. Already one of those damn lashes was peeling loose.
“Hurry up an’ I’ll drive you,” he said sighing.
She hid her smile and went back to her room. It was always so easy conning Tim into giving her a ride.
She changed into an ugly plaid skirt and did her blouse up a bit more. No one could say she didn’t look respectable now, but Lord, no boy was going to look twice at her buttoned up like this.
She took a look at her book bag, then her make up table. In a swift motion, she swept most of the make up she’d used that morning into the bag, stuffed her skirt in after it and closed it with a smile.
What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
XXXX
Tim had dropped her and Curly off and drove away with a roar.
“Let’s go over this one more time,” Curly said.
“For the love of God, Curly, I got it,” Angela said. “And you’re crazy if you think I’m gonna stop and talk to you in the halls anyway.”
“As long as we’re clear. Man, I hate that you’re old enough to be here,” he said.
“And I hate you, so I guess we’re even,” Angela said.
He shook his head and took off to the back of the school, and she went in a side door and hurried to the first bathroom she could find.
She’d spotted Dawn King outside already, and she had some choice looking eyeliner on. There was no way that bitch was going to be getting all the attention.
Angela quickly changed into her short skirt and undid a few buttons on her blouse. She shook her hair out of the ponytail she’d pulled it into then stepped out of the stall towards the mirror. She fished her makeup and cigarettes out of her bag, then set to fixing her face.
By the time she was done it was almost time for the first bell, and she hadn’t even looked to see where her homeroom was. She lit a cigarette quickly and only got half way through it when the bell rang. She stubbed out the rest and kept the butt for later.
She hurried to her homeroom, aware that all eyes were on her when she walked in. She sat down near Johanna and almost laughed at the jaw dropping look her friend was giving her.
“Oooh, Angela, you’re gonna get in a load of trouble dressed like that,” she said.
“I hope so,” Angela answered.
XXXX
Lunch was the best time of the day.
Besides the fact there were no classes, she got to walk through the hallway and see everyone looking at her. No one dared say anything bad about her – they knew she was a Shepard after all – but they weren’t above wolf whistles and cat calls, which was fine with her. She laughed to think that even the Socs were looking at her admiringly.
She got to her locker and panicked a second before she remembered the code, then opened it up and got her lunch money.
“What in the fuck is wrong with you?!”
Angela turned around to see Curly standing behind her, his face red and that vein in his neck bulging like it did whenever he got his dander up about something.
“What’s your dysfunction?” she asked.
“Mom told you not to dress like a whore,” he said.
“I ain’t dressed like a whore,” she said simply.
“Then why was Roth lookin’ at you like he’d like to take you upstairs at Buck’s, huh?” Curly asked.
“He was?”
Angela looked past Curly and spotted Ray leaning against a locker next to Carl Hamilton’s. He wore a smirk on his face as he looked her up and down.
“Ray’s pretty cute himself,” she said.
“You gotta put something on, for cryin’ out loud, Angel,” Curly said. “If Tim sees you dressed like this, he’ll hit the roof.”
“Well, it’s a good thing Tim dropped out years ago, ain’t it?”
“Dammit, Angel, put this on!”
Curly shrugged out of his jean jacket and thrust it towards Angel.
“You gotta be kidding,” she said, a hand on her hip. “There ain’t no way I’m puttin’ on your dirty old jacket. I look just fine the way I am.”
“You look like you’re painted up for a night on the town,” Curly said. “At least wipe the makeup off before the teachers write you up.”
“Mind your own fuckin’ business Curly,” she said.
“You’re puttin’ the jacket on!”
“No, I’m not!”
“Yes, you are!”
Curly had grabbed her upper arm and was trying to force the jacket on her, but she wrenched her arm away and shoved him. He pushed her up against the locker and she was getting ready to knee him in the groin and start his school year off with a limp when Mr. Casing, the principal, rounded the corner.
“What’s going on here?” he asked.
Curly let her go and immediately clammed up. Angel shut her mouth good too, but she noticed with some worry that Mr. Casing was looking at her with a frown.
“What’s your name, young lady?” he asked.
“Angela.”
“Angela what?”
“Angela Shepard,” she said.
She saw him take in a breath and mutter something toward the heavens.
“I can’t imagine this type of dress was condoned at your previous school, but it most certainly isn’t condoned here,” he said. “I’ll send a note home with you for your parents about proper dress here at school.”
“I’m dressed real proper,” she said. “I ain’t had no complaints so far.”
“Why don’t you go to the ladies room and wash your face?” he said.
“And if I don’t?” she asked haughtily.
“Shut up, Angel,” Curly muttered.
“Miss Shepard, you may think that behaviour like that will work around here. No doubt you think you can take after your brothers, but I’m here to tell you that’s not the case. You will go to the ladies room, wash your face, and tomorrow you’ll show up for class dressed appropriately, do I make myself clear?”
Curly clamped a hand down on her neck and squeezed.
“That ain’t fair!” she exclaimed. “I seen other girls wearing just as much makeup as me, and none of them are washing their faces.”
“Miss Shepard ... now,” Mr. Casing said.
Angela crossed her arms in front of her and bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying out at the pressure Curly had at her neck. She was going to slug him later.
“If you don’t want to go now, maybe you’d like some time to think about your behaviour in detention. After school today,” he said, handing her a detention slip. She took it wordlessly, but felt triumphant that Mr. Casing turned around and left, and Angela hadn’t even had to wash her face to make him do it.
“Now you’ve done it,” Curly muttered. “You’re on your own, kid.”
She stuck her tongue out at the back of his head as he walked away.
XXXX
Detention was boring.
She sat in a room with a bunch of other kids and watched the clock tick slowly by. When the teacher finally dismissed them, she was dismayed to see Tim waiting outside the classroom.
“What the hell got in to you? It’s your first fuckin’ day,” he said, his voice low.
"Just tryin' to live up to the fine example you and Curly set for me," she said sarcastically.
His expression remained stony as he looked down at her. “Where the hell did you get that? You didn’t leave the house in it.”
She said nothing about her clothes, but Tim saw her book bag and grabbed it.
“Hey!”
She watched as he opened it up and proceeded to throw her makeup into the garbage.
“You’re real lucky mom wasn’t home when the school called to tell her where you were,” he said.
“Oh yeah, I feel lucky,” she muttered, watching all her makeup sail into the trash
“What was that?”
“Nothin’.”
“Move it, let’s go,” Tim said impatiently. Angela marched out in front of him and towards the nearest set of doors. She tried to shrug off the jacket Tim placed around her shoulders.
“You ain’t never cared if I was covered up before!”
“This is school,” he said. “Not a party.”
“That’s pretty obvious from how boring it is. I’ll probably be too sick to show up tomorrow.”
“Bullshit,” he said. “You’ll be here. If me or Curly catch you skipping, you’ll be in for it.”
“That ain’t fair, you didn’t even stay in school an’ Curly’s so dumb he’ll get tossed out in no time. Who cares about stupid school?”
Tim said nothing, and Angela felt triumphant for a moment. She spotted Raymond over by Carl Hamilton’s car and he caught her looking at him. She put a little more sway in her hips as she walked.
“Well ... maybe school ain’t that bad,” she said, her gaze on Raymond.
She got in the passenger seat of Tim’s Charger, and he looked at her suspiciously.
“I mean it, Angel,” he said. “You better not get in any trouble. I ain’t got time to chase you all over hell’s half acre, so you better watch yourself. I’m serious now.”
“Sure, Tim,” she said. That was all you had to do to get him to shut up, agree with him. She’d learned that a long time ago. As long as you agreed with him serious enough, he’d shut it.
Sometimes he was even worse than having an old man around. Angel didn’t remember their’s much, but she’d be surprised if he’d be as strict as Tim. There wasn’t anyone out there that had it as bad as she did when it came to brothers.
She sighed as Tim tore out of the parking lot, but as they passed Ray and Carl, she gave a little smile.
Detention on the first day wasn’t so bad. She was just living up to her family name.
And if school was filled with more guys like Raymond Roth, she just might like it after all.
XXXX
A/N: This little fic was inspired by the "Back to School" challenge on the 731 board, to write a fic in which one of the character's is going back to school. It helped me kick my writer's block issues.
Author's Note: This one-shot is being posted as part of "Good Fic Day," an effort to raise the quality of writing here. We hope to encourage more writers to improve the quality of their own fan fiction - spell check, grammar check, keep the gang in character, outline, plot and don't use Mary Sues. Good fan fiction requires effort, and we would like to encourage other writers to rise to the challenge of producing better fan fiction, not only for our readers, but for S.E. Hinton, who created the wonderful book we are trying to honour. If you'd like help with your writing, or just want to chat about the Outsiders, visit the 731 board - the link is in my profile.
XXXX
Back To School
Angela Shepard leaned towards her mirror and applied the red lipstick carefully. She stood back when she was done and admired her handiwork.
Her black hair was long and loose, she’d spent a half hour perfecting her eyeliner and putting on those damn false lashes, and she couldn’t wait to get to high school.
High school was where it was at anyway. Sure she’d gotten plenty of attention in middle school, and she’d spent enough time hanging around Will Rogers to get to know guys like Pete Malcolm and Raymond Roth. Grace Mathews had always given her grief because she rode the same bus as them and Ray paid her more attention than he ever paid Grace.
It would be different running around there for keeps.
She grabbed her empty book bag and headed to the kitchen.
“Angela, what are you doing?” her mother asked, exasperated. This must be a good day, because her mother was dressed and had her hair freshly curled. Hank must be making nice somehow.
“What do you mean what am I doing?” she asked, pouring herself a glass of orange juice.
“You march upstairs and change and take all that makeup off,” her mother said frowning. “This is school, not a weekend with your friends.”
“Mom!”
“Do it,” her mother said firmly.
She gave an exasperated huff and marched back up the stairs, passing Curly on his way down.
“Where're you headed? Clown convention?”
“Fuck you,” she snarled at him.
“Watch your mouth, Angel,” Tim said as she came into the bathroom, pushing him away from the sink so she could grab a tissue.
“I don’t see the big deal,” she said, gently blotting the lipstick off. “All the girls wear makeup.”
“All the girls don’t wear so much you can’t see their face,” Tim said. “Christ, you look cheap. You step outta here and go to school in that, I’ll skin you.”
She looked down at the short skirt.
“You don’t say nothin’ when I wear this to the movies.”
“That’s to the movies. They ain’t gonna give you detention for flashing a little leg there,” Tim said, spitting his toothpaste in the sink.
“Well, now I’m gonna be late,” she said, trying to scrub some of the eyeliner off. Already one of those damn lashes was peeling loose.
“Hurry up an’ I’ll drive you,” he said sighing.
She hid her smile and went back to her room. It was always so easy conning Tim into giving her a ride.
She changed into an ugly plaid skirt and did her blouse up a bit more. No one could say she didn’t look respectable now, but Lord, no boy was going to look twice at her buttoned up like this.
She took a look at her book bag, then her make up table. In a swift motion, she swept most of the make up she’d used that morning into the bag, stuffed her skirt in after it and closed it with a smile.
What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
XXXX
Tim had dropped her and Curly off and drove away with a roar.
“Let’s go over this one more time,” Curly said.
“For the love of God, Curly, I got it,” Angela said. “And you’re crazy if you think I’m gonna stop and talk to you in the halls anyway.”
“As long as we’re clear. Man, I hate that you’re old enough to be here,” he said.
“And I hate you, so I guess we’re even,” Angela said.
He shook his head and took off to the back of the school, and she went in a side door and hurried to the first bathroom she could find.
She’d spotted Dawn King outside already, and she had some choice looking eyeliner on. There was no way that bitch was going to be getting all the attention.
Angela quickly changed into her short skirt and undid a few buttons on her blouse. She shook her hair out of the ponytail she’d pulled it into then stepped out of the stall towards the mirror. She fished her makeup and cigarettes out of her bag, then set to fixing her face.
By the time she was done it was almost time for the first bell, and she hadn’t even looked to see where her homeroom was. She lit a cigarette quickly and only got half way through it when the bell rang. She stubbed out the rest and kept the butt for later.
She hurried to her homeroom, aware that all eyes were on her when she walked in. She sat down near Johanna and almost laughed at the jaw dropping look her friend was giving her.
“Oooh, Angela, you’re gonna get in a load of trouble dressed like that,” she said.
“I hope so,” Angela answered.
XXXX
Lunch was the best time of the day.
Besides the fact there were no classes, she got to walk through the hallway and see everyone looking at her. No one dared say anything bad about her – they knew she was a Shepard after all – but they weren’t above wolf whistles and cat calls, which was fine with her. She laughed to think that even the Socs were looking at her admiringly.
She got to her locker and panicked a second before she remembered the code, then opened it up and got her lunch money.
“What in the fuck is wrong with you?!”
Angela turned around to see Curly standing behind her, his face red and that vein in his neck bulging like it did whenever he got his dander up about something.
“What’s your dysfunction?” she asked.
“Mom told you not to dress like a whore,” he said.
“I ain’t dressed like a whore,” she said simply.
“Then why was Roth lookin’ at you like he’d like to take you upstairs at Buck’s, huh?” Curly asked.
“He was?”
Angela looked past Curly and spotted Ray leaning against a locker next to Carl Hamilton’s. He wore a smirk on his face as he looked her up and down.
“Ray’s pretty cute himself,” she said.
“You gotta put something on, for cryin’ out loud, Angel,” Curly said. “If Tim sees you dressed like this, he’ll hit the roof.”
“Well, it’s a good thing Tim dropped out years ago, ain’t it?”
“Dammit, Angel, put this on!”
Curly shrugged out of his jean jacket and thrust it towards Angel.
“You gotta be kidding,” she said, a hand on her hip. “There ain’t no way I’m puttin’ on your dirty old jacket. I look just fine the way I am.”
“You look like you’re painted up for a night on the town,” Curly said. “At least wipe the makeup off before the teachers write you up.”
“Mind your own fuckin’ business Curly,” she said.
“You’re puttin’ the jacket on!”
“No, I’m not!”
“Yes, you are!”
Curly had grabbed her upper arm and was trying to force the jacket on her, but she wrenched her arm away and shoved him. He pushed her up against the locker and she was getting ready to knee him in the groin and start his school year off with a limp when Mr. Casing, the principal, rounded the corner.
“What’s going on here?” he asked.
Curly let her go and immediately clammed up. Angel shut her mouth good too, but she noticed with some worry that Mr. Casing was looking at her with a frown.
“What’s your name, young lady?” he asked.
“Angela.”
“Angela what?”
“Angela Shepard,” she said.
She saw him take in a breath and mutter something toward the heavens.
“I can’t imagine this type of dress was condoned at your previous school, but it most certainly isn’t condoned here,” he said. “I’ll send a note home with you for your parents about proper dress here at school.”
“I’m dressed real proper,” she said. “I ain’t had no complaints so far.”
“Why don’t you go to the ladies room and wash your face?” he said.
“And if I don’t?” she asked haughtily.
“Shut up, Angel,” Curly muttered.
“Miss Shepard, you may think that behaviour like that will work around here. No doubt you think you can take after your brothers, but I’m here to tell you that’s not the case. You will go to the ladies room, wash your face, and tomorrow you’ll show up for class dressed appropriately, do I make myself clear?”
Curly clamped a hand down on her neck and squeezed.
“That ain’t fair!” she exclaimed. “I seen other girls wearing just as much makeup as me, and none of them are washing their faces.”
“Miss Shepard ... now,” Mr. Casing said.
Angela crossed her arms in front of her and bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying out at the pressure Curly had at her neck. She was going to slug him later.
“If you don’t want to go now, maybe you’d like some time to think about your behaviour in detention. After school today,” he said, handing her a detention slip. She took it wordlessly, but felt triumphant that Mr. Casing turned around and left, and Angela hadn’t even had to wash her face to make him do it.
“Now you’ve done it,” Curly muttered. “You’re on your own, kid.”
She stuck her tongue out at the back of his head as he walked away.
XXXX
Detention was boring.
She sat in a room with a bunch of other kids and watched the clock tick slowly by. When the teacher finally dismissed them, she was dismayed to see Tim waiting outside the classroom.
“What the hell got in to you? It’s your first fuckin’ day,” he said, his voice low.
"Just tryin' to live up to the fine example you and Curly set for me," she said sarcastically.
His expression remained stony as he looked down at her. “Where the hell did you get that? You didn’t leave the house in it.”
She said nothing about her clothes, but Tim saw her book bag and grabbed it.
“Hey!”
She watched as he opened it up and proceeded to throw her makeup into the garbage.
“You’re real lucky mom wasn’t home when the school called to tell her where you were,” he said.
“Oh yeah, I feel lucky,” she muttered, watching all her makeup sail into the trash
“What was that?”
“Nothin’.”
“Move it, let’s go,” Tim said impatiently. Angela marched out in front of him and towards the nearest set of doors. She tried to shrug off the jacket Tim placed around her shoulders.
“You ain’t never cared if I was covered up before!”
“This is school,” he said. “Not a party.”
“That’s pretty obvious from how boring it is. I’ll probably be too sick to show up tomorrow.”
“Bullshit,” he said. “You’ll be here. If me or Curly catch you skipping, you’ll be in for it.”
“That ain’t fair, you didn’t even stay in school an’ Curly’s so dumb he’ll get tossed out in no time. Who cares about stupid school?”
Tim said nothing, and Angela felt triumphant for a moment. She spotted Raymond over by Carl Hamilton’s car and he caught her looking at him. She put a little more sway in her hips as she walked.
“Well ... maybe school ain’t that bad,” she said, her gaze on Raymond.
She got in the passenger seat of Tim’s Charger, and he looked at her suspiciously.
“I mean it, Angel,” he said. “You better not get in any trouble. I ain’t got time to chase you all over hell’s half acre, so you better watch yourself. I’m serious now.”
“Sure, Tim,” she said. That was all you had to do to get him to shut up, agree with him. She’d learned that a long time ago. As long as you agreed with him serious enough, he’d shut it.
Sometimes he was even worse than having an old man around. Angel didn’t remember their’s much, but she’d be surprised if he’d be as strict as Tim. There wasn’t anyone out there that had it as bad as she did when it came to brothers.
She sighed as Tim tore out of the parking lot, but as they passed Ray and Carl, she gave a little smile.
Detention on the first day wasn’t so bad. She was just living up to her family name.
And if school was filled with more guys like Raymond Roth, she just might like it after all.
XXXX
A/N: This little fic was inspired by the "Back to School" challenge on the 731 board, to write a fic in which one of the character's is going back to school. It helped me kick my writer's block issues.
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