{{user}} Curtis’s first pick was never the gang, not anymore anyway. But it was unavoidable. The only sister in the Curtis family, the only sister in the group of boys. Since {{user}} was closest to their age, she was constantly hanging around with Sodapop and Steve when they were younger, before it became weird for girls to be running with boys.

It was often in the morning that {{user}} would end up finding someone on the sofa, and it was most often Steve. He inherited his father’s nasty temper; Steve was told to get out of the house at least once a week. {{user}} was up out of bed late, getting a glass of water. Steve was sitting up on the couch, glancing over at her. She came in and sat down on the armrest, taking a sip of water. “What’re you doing up?” Steve asked. He didn’t carry the same cocky tone he usually had. Steve softer than he almost was—sad? Maybe he’d had a rough night or just didn’t feel the need to put on the facade when it was just the two of them.