Hi, this is my second time posting I noticed that you guys enjoyed the Steve story so here is more
The night was cold enough to sting, the kind of Oklahoma chill that made your breath puff in the air. You stood in the popcorn line wearing your sleeveless green turtleneck, your suede skirt fluttering in the wind, your white knee‑high socks and brown Mary Jane kitten heels doing their best but not doing much.
You rubbed your bare arms, teeth chattering.
You jumped so hard your curls bounced.
A loud, wild laugh cracked through the cold air.
Two‑Bit Matthews.
Tall.
greasy hair.
Leather jacket.
Grin big enough to start trouble.
“Holy smokes, doll!” he wheezed. “You hopped like a scared jackrabbit! I ain’t never seen nothin’ like that!”
You glared.
“Get lost, hood.”
He blinked, then grinned even bigger.
“Aw, c’mon now. Don’t be like that. I was just havin’ a little fun.”
You didn’t answer.
You turned on your heel and stormed off, boots crunching on the gravel.
You plopped down in a seat near the front, arms crossed, staring at the screen like it owed you money.
The wind hit your bare arms again.
You shivered.
Two‑Bit slid into the seat beside you like he’d been invited.
You didn’t look at him.
He didn’t leave.
“You always this dramatic,” he asked, “or am I just special?”
You shot him a glare.
“I told you to get lost.”
“And I told you I ain’t good at listenin’,” he said, popping his gum. “Besides, you’re freezin’ your arms off.”
Without a word, he shrugged off his leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders.
You stiffened.
“I didn’t ask for this.”
“Didn’t say you did,” he said. “But you’re shiverin’ like a leaf in a storm.”
You pulled the jacket tighter anyway.
You opened your mouth to snap back —
but someone else got there first.
A Soc.
Clean jacket.
Smug grin.
Hands in his pockets like he owned the whole drive‑in.
He stepped right in front of you.
“Well hey there,” he said, eyes dragging over you. “Didn’t know they let girls like you out here dressed like that.”
Two‑Bit stood up so fast the seat squeaked.
“She don’t wanna talk to you,” he said, voice low. “Beat it.”
The Soc smirked.
“You her boyfriend?”
“No,” Two‑Bit said, stepping closer, “but I’m the guy who’s gonna rearrange your face if you don’t move.”
Two‑Bit sat back down beside you, breath sharp.
You nodded.
“Yeah… thanks.”
He shrugged, softer.
“Ain’t lettin’ some stuck‑up Soc talk to you like that.”
You looked at him for the first time that night.
Really looked.
“Why’d you sit with me?” you asked quietly.
He shrugged.
“’Cause you looked lonely. And cold. And mad at me. And I dunno… I kinda liked all three.”
You snorted.
“You’re ridiculous.”
He grinned.
“Yeah, but I’m your kind of ridiculous.”
You and Two‑Bit became inseparable.
He’d show up at your door:
“C’mon, doll. Let’s go do somethin’ stupid.”
You’d roll your eyes:
“You’re the stupid one. I’m just supervising.”
He’d laugh:
“Yeah, well, you’re cute when you supervise.”
You patched up his knuckles.
“You gotta stop fightin’.”
He’d grin:
“Can’t. I gotta protect my reputation.”
You’d steal his jacket.
He’d pretend to be offended.
“Hey! That’s mine!”
“You weren’t wearin’ it.”
“Yeah, but I was thinkin’ about wearin’ it!”
Everyone thought you were together.
But you talked like you were.
Acted like you were.
Looked at each other like you were.
Then the big day arrives and It happened on the Curtis porch.
Two‑Bit was quiet.
Too quiet.
You nudged him.
“What’s wrong with you?”
He tapped his foot.
“I gotta tell you somethin’. And I ain’t good at sayin’ stuff that matters.”
“I like you. The real kind. The kind that makes my stomach do weird flips. The kind that scares me.”
“I like you too,” you whispered.
He grinned — soft, nervous, hopeful.
He leaned in and kissed you.
Slow.
Warm.
Careful.
Months of waiting behind it.
When he pulled back, he whispered:
“Worth every second.”he’d show up at your door the next night, hair combed, shirt Mickey shirt tucked in, holding a single flower he definitely stole from someone’s yard.
He cleared his throat.
“So uh… you busy tonight?”
You smirked.
“Depends. Why?”
He held out the flower.
“I wanna take you out. Like… a real date. Not just hangin’ around bein’ idiots.”
You took the flower.
“Where?”
He grinned.
“You’ll see.”
He took you to the drive‑in.
“Really?” you teased. “This again?”
He shrugged.
“Hey, it’s where I met ya. Figured it’s where I oughta take ya.”
You sat together, sharing popcorn, his arm around you, your head on his shoulder.
He whispered:
“Y’know… I ain’t never liked a girl like this before.”
You smiled.
“Good. I’d be mad if you did.”
He laughed.
“There she is. My girl.”
Two‑Bit had a habit of showing up at your school even though he didn’t go there anymore.
He’d lean against the lockers like he owned the joint, waiting for you between classes.
One morning, you were walking down the hallway, books in your arms, minding your business.
Loud.
Bold.
Echoing through the whole school.
“HEY BABY! WANNA SEE WHAT’S HANGIN’?”
You froze.
Your soul left your body.
You whipped around so fast your curls flew.
“MATHEWS, YOU BETTER BE TALKIN’ ABOUT YOUR KEYS!”
He grinned, jingling them.
“Sure am, doll. What else would I be talkin’ about?”
You stomped up to him.
“You can’t yell junk like that in a SCHOOL!”
He shrugged.
“Why not? You’re cute when you’re sore.”
You smacked his arm with your books.
“Two‑Bit!”
He laughed so loud the principal peeked out of his office.
You grabbed his jacket sleeve and dragged him outside before he got you both in trouble.
“You’re a real pain,” you muttered.
He winked.
“Yeah, but I’m your pain.”
Later that day, you found him leaning against the bike rack, waiting for you like always.
He lit up when he saw you.
“There’s my girl.”
You crossed your arms.
“Is Two‑Bit even your real name?”
He smirked.
“Why? You plannin’ on writin’ me up?”
He stepped closer, eyes warm.
“You really wanna know?”
He tapped your chin with one finger.
“Say please.”
You glared.
“Not a chance.”
He laughed.
“Alright, alright. Don’t blow a fuse.”
He leaned in, voice low like he was telling you a secret meant only for you.
“It’s Keith,” he said. “Keith Mathews.”
You blinked.
“That’s… actually kinda nice.”
He groaned dramatically.
“Don’t go spreadin’ it around, doll. I got a rep to keep.”
You smirked.
“Alright… Keith.”
He froze.
“Aw hell, don’t say it like that. You’re gonna make me soft.”
You slipped your hand into his.
He squeezed your hand back, cheeks a little pink.
And that’s when he knew —
you had him wrapped around your finger,
and he didn’t mind one bit.
The next day After Whole day without seeing two-bit you were in your room, brushing out your soft 60’s curls, when you heard a knock.
You opened the door to find Two‑Bit standing there with a smug grin and a plate of chocolate cake .
“Evenin’, doll,” he said. “Hope you ain’t busy.”
You narrowed your eyes.
“What do you want now?”
He held up the chocolate cake like it was a peace offering.
“We’re watchin’ Mickey.”
You blinked.
“No we’re not.”
He stepped past you like he lived there.
“Too late, sweetheart. I already got the snacks.”
You groaned.
“Two‑Bit, I’m tired.”
He flopped onto your couch, patting the spot beside him.
“Then sit. Mickey’ll fix that.”
You crossed your arms.
“I’m not watchin’ cartoons with you.”
He gasped dramatically.
“You take that back! Mickey Mouse is a national treasure!”
You rolled your eyes.
“You’re such a kid.”
He grinned.
“Yeah, but I’m your kid.”
You tried to stay mad.
You really did.
But then he started laughing — that loud, wild, contagious laugh — and you cracked.
You sat beside him with a sigh.
“Fine. One episode.”
He nudged you with his shoulder.
“Atta girl.”
Halfway through the cartoon, you felt his arm slide behind you on the couch.
He whispered, “Y’know… I like this. You. Me. Mickey. Feels right.”
You looked at him.
He wasn’t joking.
Not this time.
You rested your head on his shoulder.
“Yeah,” you said quietly. “It does.”
He smiled — soft, real, nothing like the loud troublemaker everyone else saw.
“Don’t tell the guys,” he murmured. “They’ll say I’m gettin’ mushy.”
You smirked.
“Keith Mathews, mushy? Never.”
He groaned.
“Aw hell, don’t say my real name like that. You’re gonna make me fall apart.”
You laughed, leaning closer.
He kissed the top of your head — gentle, warm, like he’d been waiting all day to do it.
The TV flickered.
Mickey squeaked.
Two‑Bit’s arm tightened around you.
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