~Steve~

Wow, I felt like complete shit because well, my dad was yelling at me. Yelling at ME because I was a lazy bum (I wished he could see himself). Bum. Funny word. Off topic. Anyway, it was nothing unusual but I, Steven Randle, was being yelled at by my father who was yelling at ME at my seventeen year old face. Oh God, I hadn't missed him at all. My mother however was someone nice and beautiful I liked seeing walking into the kitchen while Dad hollered at me. He immediately stopped when she arrived with a 'what the heck are you yelling at my son for this time?' face.

"He's being lazy. His grades have dropped. He isn't bringing in as much money as he used to and...," he began explaining until I interrupted.

"And I'm gonna take care of all that slack. I went off track for a few...months," I said and grabbed my car keys off the counter because, yes, I was seventeen and could drive.

"Hey, Steve!" Dad called after me.

"Bye, Steve!" Momma yelled and I knew she probably had murmured, "Oh please Steve, don't leave me here alone."

This was my life. My father was Dad. My mother was Momma. This was my car. Okay, I'll stop being possessive and go through what Ponyboy had left for me to pick up. My salary had decreased because being a mechanic wasn't Ponyboy's talent. My grades had lowered because Pony may've had a high IQ but it was a high IQ for a fourteen year old after all not for a seventeen-year old. Also, I fought with Dad only once for the past few months because Pony was one to keep his mouth shut. I reckon there were rumors about my girlfriend, Evie, and me. We hadn't been close because Evie was too stubborn to date a guy who looked like me, but actually was fourteen-years old. However, we were wrapped around each other's fingers once again.

"Hey, Pone," I saluted my, yes, buddy. He was talking about God knows what with Curly Shepard whom was released from the reformatory for a month now. They were positioned by the entrance of Will Rogers High School.

"Hi, Steve," he replied curtly and went back to discussing with Curly. I stood by Pony who was standing in front of Curly casually leaning against the school wall. I was looking for my History class buddy, but caught bits of the conversation about the drag race coming up. Curly spotted some of his hoodlum friends who were goofing off by the parking lot and bid a farewell to Pony. We acknowledged each other with nods of our heads.

"You know Danny from History?" I inquired.

"The guy trying to get me to talk in History? 'Course," Pony said.

"Did you ever talk to him? He's kind of my salvation from...well, dying of boredom in that class," I said hostilely.

"Yeah, you told me. Ya'll are still buddies."

"How long do you think we're gonna stay buddies?" I asked after I saw Danny's Ford parked in the parking lot and the big guy himself walking our way.

"I think we've got to promise food will never come between us again," Ponyboy said and a grin grew on his face. I laughed.

"I ain't giving you any promises, kid."

Food would always be an obstacle in this relationship. At least it wasn't girls. Oh God, thank Him it wasn't girls!

"So, we've got best friend of Soda and little brother of Soda friends now, huh?" Danny approved as he stood before us. Pony and I exchanged a glance. Then, as if we'd done it a bunch of times, we slapped our hands together in a fist, lowered them together, and released exactly like we had after discussing Ponyboy's theme.

"Yeah, we are, but right now, Danny, you and me have History to conquer," I said.

~Ponyboy~

I'll tell you the things that Steve had done for me while he was in my body and I was in his:

1. Raised my school grades.

2. Earned me more friends.

3. Cleaned my room.

4. Thrown away my smoking habit.

5. Attended my detention

Life was good for me. It was my third day back in my body and I walked in the hallways with at least five more people than usual greeting me. They were mainly greasers, but a middle-class here and there was present, too. I sat in class waiting for test and quiz grades passed back and having high As, if not A-pluses, being thrown on my desk. I walked in my room with no shirt lying on the floor...for sometime at least. I went to practice for track with my coach happy that I wasn't smoking anymore. Of course, Steve attending my detention was the same detention I attended for him back when we helped Two-Bit play a prank on the principal. Unfortunately, we eventually were caught and dragged to the dreadful room. We weren't specifically dragged, but the feeling was close enough.

At the moment, I didn't care about whether Steve had attended more detentions for me other the one I also did. Rather, I was concerned about the Math test I had recently discovered was next period.

"Steve! Hey, Steve!" I yelled. He swiveled around from the turn he was nearly about to take to the next hallway.

"You need something?" he asked.

"Help on my Math test next period."

"Smart kid didn't study?"

"Smart kid didn't know."

Steve opened his mouth slightly in awareness.

"Sorry...I forgot, or reckon wasn't paying attention. Look for Two-Bit. He'll give you an extra day or two to study," Steve ordered.

"It's sixth period. I'm gonna miss more than Math," I countered.

"Look for Two-Bit," he said more sternly. I sighed and walked around looking for a six-foot, stocky in build boy with rusty side-burns. I found him a few minutes after the bell rang. He was checking his inventory of prank supplies in his locker. I told him what my issue was while he counted how many excuse forms he had. When I finished talking, he handed me one. Then, he seized a pen from his locker and held it out for me. I took it and looked at the excuse form.

Please excuse _________________________ from class because...

And there were a few reasons listed with boxes printed beside each one. I marked the one that read: he/she is not feeling well and will be going home. I wrote my name in the desired blank but looked at the paper dumbstruck when I saw the 'signature of school authority excusing student from class'.

"I'll take care of that," Two-Bit said and took the paper and pen from my hands. He stood in thought for a moment until he scribbled something hurriedly on the paper.

"Wait outside by my car and I'll go give this to...," he began saying, but didn't know my Math teacher's name.

"Mrs. Holland."

"Yeah her. Mrs. Holland."

He ushered me away from him with his arm gestures and I walked off. I was leaning against his car until he came to start up the wreck-up piece of junk. I decided against commenting on it out loud. The drive to my house (yes, my house) was full of chattering Two-Bit's humor and my laughter. We watched some television, ate some chips, and joked around until Steve and Soda came in the evening. Soda continued walking to the kitchen-yelling 'hey, I'm going to go eat some cake along the way- while Steve hung by in the living room to ask about how my escape from the Math test followed through.

"Well, Two-Bit took care of it and thanks for showing me to the right person," I gratified.

"I should make an ad. 'Neep help in bailing out of class, revenge on a teacher, a student or my personal favorite, the principal! Come to Two-Bit! He'll help you with your essential school living needs'," Two-Bit said dramatically.

"Or help you become scatterbrained and stupid like himself," Steve murmured and ducked when Two-Bit's arm came swinging to smack him. He continued ducking because of Two-Bit's reoccurring swinging arm.

"Anybody wants cake!?" Soda hollered from the kitchen. Steve ran into the kitchen with Two-Bit running right behind him. I walked in from the other entrance leading from the hallway instead of the living room. Soon, we were standing in a circle beside each other around the kitchen table. Two-Bit grabbed one slice of cake before Steve could and made an arrogant look at the glaring seventeen year old. I looked at the plate and saw there was only one slice left. My hand reached for it, but Steve grabbed my wrist before I could move any further. His free hand moved for the cake. My own free hand however grasped it. We began struggling in each other's firm grips until one of Steve's hands became free which made one of mine free also but the other trapped. Sodapop came to try to stop our squabbling but when I turned to see the last slice of cake, it was vanished. I stopped struggling and looked towards Two-Bit who was finishing the last few bites of the last slice. Steve's head was turned to see what I was staring at and anger flared his eyes. Anger flared through both of us and we attacked.

"Ponyboy! Steve! Why'd you have to eat it, Two-Bit?!" Sodapop exclaimed as the three of us, Two-Bit, Steve, and I, wrestled on the cold, kitchen floor.

Ah, the fights the last slice of cake can cause and the friendships it can create.

A/N: Thank you for all of you, who had reviewed, put this story on their favorites or alerts or are 'invisible readers'. You kept me going but I suppose it was also the idea of for once actually finishing something. I'm so grateful that for once I did and probably writing the longest chapter for any multi-chapter fic I've written.

Oh, this maybe my last multi-chapter fic for some time, but I'm considering adding on to Before, After and Now for any of you Sodapop/Sandy fans. ;)

See ya'

:D