Disclaimer: I do not own the outsiders.

I was walking down the street feeling the sun beat on the back of my neck. I heard some guy's whistle at me, but I kept on walking. Usually I would walk up to the guys and start flirting with them, but I just wasn't in the mood. But then again I was getting kind of hungry, and well it wasn't really my fault that guys always took me out, bought meclothes and dinner. But hell if they were offering I wasn't about to turn them down. I stopped and despite how tired I was my stomach was speaking loud and clear. So I gave me hair a little flip and walked over towards them.

Truthfully the guys weren't that good looking, but then again they definitely weren't ugly. But it didn't really matter to me. I was a professional flirt. I could flirt just as well with a good-looking guy as I could with a less attractive one. Then again I enjoyed flirting with some guys more then other, but hell when it came down to it I didn't really care.

Now despite what it sounds I'm not a slut. Though the rep I've got around these parts would say otherwise. I swear I've heard so many stories about myself if I didn't know me, I'd believe them. But the thing is I've only ever had two boyfriends. And hell my first boyfriend I'd had was when I was like 7 and we spent more time throwing sand at each other and trying not to catch each other's cooties then being boyfriend and girlfriend. And now you're thinking well just because I haven't had too many boyfriends, doesn't stop me from sleeping around. But despite what everyone believes I'm still a virgin. Matter of fact I've actually got morals and all that, I'm not some slut.

Guys just assumed I was a slut. Either because of the stories they'd heard about me, or the fact that I happened to be real good looking. I have a pretty slim figure, and medium length brown hair that naturally flipped up. I remember a guy asking me how much time I spent on my hair to get it looking like that, but in all honesty, my hair just did it naturally. I also had brown eyes, though Bryan always use to tell me I had real deep eyes, and I'd like to think I do to. So all and all I was a pretty good-looking girl, and most guys didn't care that I was only 15. They cared that I was good looking. And my looks were something I definitely used to my advantage.

So when a guy hollered at me to come over, most of the time I did. I'd give me hair a little flip and strike a cute pose, as I talked to them. I flirted so well that almost every guy thought I was in to them or at least thought they had a chance to get me in bed. They'd offer to take me out for a bite to eat, or sometimes I'd play up the poor girl routine and they'd take me to go buy some new clothes. As a matter of fact I couldn't remember the last time I had bought something for myself. True enough I did use what money I got from my job on the weekends to buy a bit of food or help pay off a few bills for Mrs. Hannigan. And I only stole when I had to, I didn't like stealing much, made me feel odd after I'd done it.

My best friend Lee once asked if I felt bad using guys like the way I did. But I had merely shook my head. It was hard to feel bad about something like that when you've been threw the shit that I have. I knew there had to be some nice guys out there somewhere but that hope was slowly fading away. Plus I felt like guys were trying to use me, more then I was using them. I couldn't even begin to count the guys who had tried to get me into bed. Someone of them backed off when I said no, but most didn't. But I was a good fighter and could hold my own that's for sure. But once you flipped out a blade then they backed off. I had only used my blade once, and it was strictly self-defense. But I still didn't like doing it. I didn't hurt the guy real bad, just a couple of stitches. And he deserved what he got considering what he was trying to do to me. I'd do it again if I had to, but I sure didn't like it.

Any ways, I'd managed to flirt well enough that the three guys I was standing with offered to take me out for a bite to eat. And I was real thankful about that. I could hear my stomach growling, I hadn't eaten since yesterday, maybe even the day before that. All four of us walked down to Dingo's, the one guy, I'm pretty sure his name was Louis, said he could hot-wire a car if I didn't want to walk. But I assured him I'd be fine walking. Taking a good look at the three of them, I think I remembered them as a part of Tim Sheppard's gang. At least they looked like it. But they were definitely Greasers and that's for sure. I didn't have a problem with that though; I was a greaser too.

Besides I didn't much like Socs. Always thinking they were better then the rest of us. They'd pull their fancy mustangs over to where I was walking and try to pick me up. They thought I should be honored that they were picking up a greaser or at least that's what I figured by the way they talked to me. But I never got in the car. A few years ago I use to if I was real desperate for some food, but not now. No matter how hungry I was or how cold, or wet, I vowed to myself I would never be seen anywhere near a Soc. Especially after what they had done to Bryan, to his family and to me.

After we finished eating and my stomach had finally settled down, I'd come to discover that Louis, Jon and Dale were actually pretty decent guys. Though judging by the looks some people gave us when they walked by, I'd say they would beg to differ. But then again a lot of people did look at us like that. We were just Greasers to them, juvenile delinquents up to know good and the Socs were perfect little angels. That's how a lot of people saw it, and there wasn't much I could do to change that. Though I definitely wasn't one to judge a book by the cover, but after the whole situation with Bryan and seeing what the Socs had done to him, I found myself spitting as one of them walked by. I knew I wasn't really being fair, part of me knew there had to be some nice Socs out there, but after you go through something like I'd been threw, after you see what they can do to people, what they do to people's families, their lives. Then it's real hard to think that there's such thing as a decent Soc.

The guys walked me to the closest thing I had to home, Mrs. Hannigan's house. She was a real nice old lady. She was a widow, all her kids had moved away and had family's of their own. And she had missed having someone around, besides her cat. So when I had wandered the streets alone, hungry and cold for the fourth night in a row, Mrs. Hannigan gladly took me in. She wasn't rich by any means; she was hardly affording to support herself. She didn't have the nicest looking house, but it was homey. Mrs. Hannigan took a lot of pride in her decorating though. Every room in the house had a cottage type look. And she prided herself on her gardening. I suppose Mrs. Hannigan's place could be considered where I live. It's where the few things I owned were, and I had a room there. It used to be the guestroom, so it had a bed and all.

But as I said before Mrs. Hannigan didn't have much money. I had a rare meal there, but I didn't feel right eating her food. She was already providing me with a roof over my head, which I appreciate more then I think she even knows. Though I try to help out as much as I can. I work down at a grocery store on the weekends since I still go to school and all. The manager of the store, Leon, was a real nice guy though. Sometimes he'd let me take home some of the food or give me a little extra on payday. I used the money I earned to help Mrs. Hannigan pay the bills, but it was never enough. Luckily most of the time I could flirt me way into giving them a few dollars and asking them to hold off for the rest for a week or two until I could figure out a way to get the money. Although Mrs. Hannigan never knew I did that, she just assumed that we were making enough to get by. I didn't want to worry her so I didn't say anything. Besides I liked knowing she was happy without a care in the world or having to worry about paying a bill. She was getting real old, I wanted her to enjoy her life, not worry about mine.

I stood outside the house for a while talking to the three of them. We got around to talking about Shepard's gang I was right about them. They were part of Sheppard's gang so I told them to say hi to Tim for me. Tim and I were real close, he looked out for me like a little sister, the fact that I was good-looking didn't really matter to him or at least he didn't show it. Tim and Bryan had been real good friends, and so Tim and I had become real close.

I could of stood outside talking to Louis, Jon and Dale all night. But I saw Mrs. Hannigan watching from the window and decided it was probably time to head inside.

"So I'll see you guys tomorrow," I said with my famous smile.

"Not if we see you first," Jon replied.

I couldn't help but grin.

"Yeah," Louis said as he rolled his eyes at Jon, "Seven thirty don't forget."

"Oh I won't," I said with a smile.

"Alright," Dale said with a wink, " Later Kate."

"Later," I said with a smile as headed towards the house. I could feel their eyes following me but I didn't mind. They were nice guys. Plus they were the first guys in a long, long, time who didn't try to pressure me into anything. They knew I saw them as friends, and I think they could accept that. Besides I don't think they really minded, I was pretty easy person to get along with, and I wasn't too hard on the eyes.

As I walked inside I saw Mrs. Hannigan sitting in her chair knitting.

"Well I'm off to bed Mrs. H," I said with a grin. Mrs. Hannigan hated being called Mrs. H as much as I hated being called Katie but we did everyone in awhile just as a joke.

"Night Katie."

I smiled and headed off to my room. I lied down with smile it had been a good day. I hoped that tomorrow would be just as good.