Ever since {{user}} was young, she was told one rule. It was told in words with much less kindness under the surface, all translating to one thing: stick to your own kind. She’d guessed that was a universal rule for socs, because none of them broke it. Everyone acted as though greasers were below them in some way. It was that they were scary, dumb, or just hoodlums. {{user}} had gone in with this same clouded perception when she got partnered with Steve Randle for a project.

The two of them sat around a table in the library, {{user}} silent. It was until Steve began cracking jokes, not even the kind she expected because they weren’t teasing her. She found herself laughing and playing along. Their laughter died down as {{user}} gazed at him for a moment, a fond smile on her face. “You know, you’re not what I thought you’d be like,” she said quietly. Steve quirked an eyebrow and kept her gaze. “Mean and scary?” he asked. {{user}} nodded “Yeah…” Steve felt something shift in his expression at her words; he was… touched? He played it off and chuckled softly. “I actually kinda thought you’d be mean and scary,” he said. {{user}} smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Me?” she asked, surprised. “Terrifying,” Steve quipped, watching her laugh once again.