Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

8:00am and he's too cold to even move. The tenements were too old to keep any heat inside, and with how things were going at home before he was kicked out, he couldn't go back to his mother and her warm home. That's the whole reason why he was in Bullworth, not that anyone knew. Why would they? Honestly, Johnny was the only person who had a good idea about why he ended up homeless, and even then it wasn't a full story with every truth. But, he never pushed him to tell him the full story with all the details. That's what made Johnny so great. How he helped him that night with minimal questions asked, such as his name, age, and where he lived. And he gave him minimal answers to his questions and received the greatest help he could ever ask for.

Five minutes later and he can hear the other greasers walking around, getting ready to go to school and such. He hasn't moved, though, still laying in bed in only some sweats. He didn't understand. It was warm last night, and now it's freezing this morning!

"Ay, Peanut! You awake?" That voice gets his heart racing, and he can hear the door to his room creak open. He turns to look over his shoulder, the boss walking towards him.

"Mornin', boss," he greets, grinning at him. He doesn't seem amused by his cheerful greeting, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes.

"And why ain't you up?" he questions, walking over to the bed. Under the covers, Peanut shrugs, slowly flipping his body over so he's laying on his other side. Johnny bends down, his face closer to his now. "We got school, Peanut. You're gonna have to get up and get dressed, fast."

"Ah, c'mon," he whines softly, "One day off? It's so cold!"

"So that's it?" he laughs, throwing the covers off him. "You're just cold?"

"Johnny!" Peanut's fighting with his leader, trying desperately to get his blanket back. The air hits his bare chest and he's shivering. With one swift tug, the blanket is out of Peanut's grip and on the floor, the younger teen still whining.

"You're going today," Johnny informs him, throwing his shirt and vest at him before looking for his jacket. "You already missed a day last week."

There's no fighting with him. So, with a very audible sigh, Peanut gets up and puts his clothes on, turning his back so it's to Johnny as he removes his sweats to put on his jeans. And when he turns back, Johnny's handing him his leather jacket, not even facing him as he makes his way towards the door.

"Be out in five minutes. We gotta hurry," he mumbles. Peanut just nods, pulling his jacket on and putting on some gloves. After gathering some things and putting on some cologne, he's out of his room and going down to the front of the tenement, surprised to see that only Johnny is waiting for him.

"Where're the others?" he asks. Johnny gestures his head in the direction of the school.

"I had them leave already," he replies, walking to where his bike is. "I would've gone with 'em, but I didn't want you to skip. Now, hurry up and get on."

Peanut stares at him, a bit uneasy. His bike had been ruined after getting knocked off by a cop car. That was quite the memory. Johnny was the one to bail him out, and he looked exactly like a disappointed mother when Peanut greeted him. How familiar that disappointed face looked. But looking at Johnny now, the irritated look made him uneasy, especially since he was expecting the junior to just hop on the back.

"Well?" Johnny's voice was snappy and it made Peanut jump when he broke the silence so suddenly. "I ain't got all day, kid! Either hop on or walk to school!"

"Alright, Johnny. Just calm down," Hesitantly, Peanut moves to get on the back of the back, arms wrapping around Johnny's waist so he can hold on. He was scared he would be yelled at for touching his boss, especially because Johnny had taken off at such a high speed and his grip had tightened. But there wasn't ever a protest. A grunt here and there when he made a couple turns and Peanut wasn't paying attention, his face buried in his boss' back to block the wind. He had to admit, the scent Johnny had was intoxicating. He didn't know what cologne he had, or even if he used any, but it made him feel just a bit calmer. It was so welcoming and nice. Maybe he would ask later.

They got to Bullworth with 15 minutes until classes started. Johnny rode towards the auto shop, Peanut finally removing himself from the senior. He's instantly hit with the cold air and he shivers, bringing his arms around his body in a miserable attempt to keep himself warm. But looking at his boss, he sees he has no problem with the cold. How? It was snowing and they just rode here at a high speed!

"Ain't you cold?" Peanut questions. Johnny just stares at him, shaking his head. "Why not?! It's like 15 degrees out!"

"Just not, Peanut," he tells him, starting for the building, motioning for him to follow. "C'mon. Class is gonna start soon."

And when they walk through those doors, it starts. The whispers. The giggling. The pointing. It makes Peanut uneasy and he looks to Johnny for any sort of comfort or mental advice. He doesn't say a word, but judging the still irritated look on his face, it's best to not try and start any conversation. Not now, at least.

The classroom is warm at least, and Peanut takes his seat in front of Johnny, just like how it's been for the past year. Mr. Galloway is talking about something. The Crucible, if he's correct. Peanut had the book, and he would admit, it was pretty decent. Though, he would never admit it. Today, they're expected to read chapters 5 through 8 and complete the questions on the board. They had the option to be in groups, and Peanut already knows he's working with the boss. Just like how it's been for the past year. But, Johnny taps his back.

"You got your book?" he asks, Peanut nodding and holding it up as he turns in his seat to face him. "Good. I left mine back at the tenement."

"Maybe if you weren't so worried 'bout gettin' me up, you would've remembered it," he teases. But instead of a chuckle or grin, Johnny just stares at him.

"Not today, kid," he tells him, and he feels something in his heart. A twinge of sadness perhaps? But, he doesn't push the issue. He just opens up to chapter 5 and they get to work, Peanut reading while Johnny answers the questions. They rarely converse or joke like they normally do, and though he wouldn't voice it, it hurts Peanut. His boss – best friend as well – was treating him like they weren't even close. Like he hadn't taken him in after his mother kicked him out and gave him everything. Like they weren't as close as they are. And halfway through chapter 7, he stops reading. Johnny just looks at him, confused.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asks. Peanut stares at his face. His stupid, cute face.

"Did I do somethin' wrong?" he questions, and the senior is taken aback. He wasn't expecting his response to be that, especially with his voice sounding so hurt. "I know I was giving you a hard time back at the tenement, but I was just messing around. What's with you giving me the cold shoulder now?"

Johnny stares right back at him, and for a moment, Peanut wonders if he should've just kept his mouth shut. There's no trace of any emotion on his face, and he finally shakes his head.

"We'll talk in gym," he tells him. Peanut wants to shoot back; wants to demand an answer now because dammit he doesn't want to wait for gym. But he knows it wouldn't be a smart idea. No matter that they're in class. He knows Johnny will beat him down if provoked any further, especially if he's going to cause a scene. So, he continues reading to his boss, and though he can't see it, Peanut's body is shaking. He's scared he's done something wrong. How embarrassing would that be? The second in command making a mistake, when he's supposed to take orders from the boss and not question it. How embarrassing would it be that he made his best friend upset just by wanting to stay warm?

They get their work done, and with time to spare as well. Who knew that you could get more work done when you're not joking around? It still wasn't as fun, though, and when the answers are finished, Peanut's too ashamed to say anything. So he just turns back around in his seat, facing the front. He can hear whispers from around the room. What were they all talking about? He catches Johnny's name escaping Trent's lips, and apparently, the older greaser hears it too.

"You got somethin' to say?!" His voice is booming and threatening, everyone jumping at the outburst. He gets up from his seat, taking a couple strides and grabbing the teen's shirt. "Go on! Say it to my face!"

"Johnny!" Peanut's voice mixes with Mr. Galloway, who's now standing as well, holding onto his desk for support.

"That's enough!" Mr. Galloway continues, voice slurring just barely. "Now, let him go and return to your seat!"

Before Johnny can yell at his teacher, the bell rings and everyone scurries out of class. Everyone except Peanut, who's just waiting for his leader.
"C'mon, Johnny," he speaks, "We'll deal with him later."

He can tell he wants to say something, but taking a glance at Galloway, he simply throws Trent back into his seat. He goes to gather his things and follows Peanut out the door, ignoring whatever the two have to say.

They walk to the gym in awkward silence, Peanut wanting to say something but deciding it's better not to. That's when they hear a greeting voice. Looking towards the auto shop, they see Vance waving.

"Johnny, c'mere!" he calls, and Peanut looks up at his boss. "I wanna talk to you!"

"Go on, Peanut," Johnny speaks, making his way for the younger greaser. "Get to the gym. I'll be there soon."

He hesitates for a moment, wanting to follow Johnny. But, he knows he has to follow orders. So he turns his heels and makes his way for gym class. He wonders what he's talking to Johnny about and a thought pushes its way into his mind. There wasn't any denying that Peanut had a small obsession with his boss. Who wouldn't? He was strong, smart, and compassionate. Though many wouldn't see the last part, he knew Johnny could be. He had to be. More so than his mother, at least.

Gym wasn't exactly something Peanut enjoyed going to alone. He felt so out of place, and Mr. Burton wasn't helping. The old creep always made him feel so disgusted and he liked to keep his distance. But god, the sight of the teacher just made his skin crawl. And without Johnny by his side, he doesn't feel the motivation to go get dressed. So, he instead walks up the bleachers and takes a seat, hands clasped together as he watches some of the jocks toss a football back and forth.

By the time Johnny enters the building, everyone in their gym is getting ready for roll call. Peanut stands, grabbing his bag and walking down to meet his boss, smiling. It isn't returned.

"Follow me," he instructs, going down the stairs and heading for the pool. Peanut follows, a bit confused.

"We ain't doin' gym today?" he questions, hoping the answer is yes.

"We gotta talk," he tells him. Not exactly the answer he was expecting, but it's better than seeing Mr. Burton's dumb face. So, they make their way to the bleachers that face the pool and take a seat, with no other students in sight. Peanut can hear Mr. Burton calling out names, but he knows for a fact he won't get a response from himself or Johnny.

They sit there in silence for a couple minutes, and Peanut decides it's best to wait for the boss to speak first. He doesn't want to upset him any more than he already seems to be.

"Tell me something, Larry," Johnny starts, and Peanut snaps his head to stare at him. "You been listenin' those kids talk 'bout us?"

"They've been talkin'?" Honestly, he had heard students talk, but he wasn't sure if it was about them.

"Yeah," His voice is low. Smooth, but something's behind it. Peanut can't place his finger on it. "It's what I wanna talk about."

"Well, if you need me to bust some heads, just say the word, boss!" He hopes his devotion to pleasing Johnny will make him feel better, but he doesn't move.

"Remember that night I found you?" he asks, and the memory hits Peanut like a freight train. He was curled up on the corner by the tenement, a pathetic-looking jacket being his only warmth. He remembered it was in December. The 10th, if he was correct. Johnny had found him, gently kicked his side, and asked what he was doing. After explaining that he had been kicked out of his house by his mother, Johnny took him in. He gave him food, shelter, and support. He made him a greaser. He taught him how to fight and how to fix bikes. He made him go to school and actually try.

"How could I forget it?" he replies, smiling at the senior. "You're the reason why I'm still in school. Hell, you're the reason why I'm still alive!"

And for the first time since they got onto school grounds, Johnny smiles back, along with a small chuckle before his face drops again.

"What was the reason your mom kicked you out?" he questions. There's silence for a good minute. "You never told me what exactly you were doin' out on your own. Or why."

And it was true. Peanut never told anyone why he had become homeless. Not even Johnny knew. Not even his best friend knew why he was kicked out.

"You can tell me," Johnny continues, "I'm not gonna look at you any differently. You're supposed to come to me with any problems, anyways. What kind of leader would I be if I just shut ya out?"

He hesitates. It's true. Everyone could come to Johnny when they had a problem, whether it be big or small. That's why he was such a great leader. Even Vance went to him. Wait… Vance…

"What did Vance wanna talk about?" Peanut's voice is filled with worry and he hates that fact. He wanted to ask calmly, but it came out so pathetic. Johnny just shrugs.

"None of your business," he replies, "Now, stop stalling and tell me."

That son of a bitch. He told him. He told him the one thing he never wanted getting back to Johnny. Oh, when he saw that kid he was dead. He promised he wouldn't ever say a word to anyone, especially Johnny. Some friend he was!

"She found out I was bi," he finally confesses, and Johnny just stares at him, expecting more. "She said I better fix myself, but I couldn't. I started failing and everything got to me. So since I couldn't "fix" myself and I started failing, she kicked me out, saying something about how she didn't want a mistake like me in her house anymore."

His body is shaking and he feels ashamed. Ashamed of his confession. Ashamed of his preference. Ashamed about being a "mistake".

"Sounds like a bitch, if ya ask me," Johnny finally comments, before reaching out to put his arm around Peanut.

"Yeah..." He can't bring himself to say anything else, but being close to Johnny makes him feel better. The scent of his cologne helps, too.

"And is there anyone you like here?" He did tell him! Vance was dead when they were done!

"Nah," His reply is quick and he avoids any eye contact with his boss. Johnny just chuckles.

"Oh, yeah?" He gets closer to him, pulling him towards his body so their hips are connected. His face is burning. "Not from what I've heard."

"And what did ya hear?" He knows the response, but he doesn't want to give in. He doesn't want to fully accept the fact that his own friend betrayed him.

"That my second in command," he starts, using his other hand to poke him. "thinks I deserve better than Lola."

"You do!" he shoots back, "You spend so much time stressing on her and everything, and she don't even care 'bout you, Johnny!"

"And," he continues, "that you've had a crush on me since the beginning of the year."

"Vance is full of it!" he cries, finally facing Johnny, his face flushed a deep shade of red. This just makes his boss bust out laughing. Peanut sits there, trying to deny that he has any sort of romantic feelings for him, but he fumbles over his words, and Johnny just sits there, having a field day. He lets Peanut try to make the words come out in proper sentences before he finally pats his shoulder and silences him.

"It's alright," he tells him, "I mean, can't say I'm surprised. Just look at me!"

"You're full of it, too..." he grumbles. Johnny chuckles a bit more, reaching his hand over to gently lay it on top of Peanut's.

"Just listen to me," he starts, "I ain't gonna hate you or beat you or whatever just because you got feelings for me. We're too close for that. And honestly, I do feel somethin' for you. Dunno if it's love or somethin' else, but there is something there."

"You like me?" He's dumbfounded. Johnny Vincent, king of the greasers, had just said he felt something for him. He felt something for him!

"We'll see," he chuckles. Peanut takes this chance and grabs Johnny's hand, making him flinch but not pull away.

"So, what about those kids that were talkin'?" he asks. That's where his face drops and he's no longer smiling.

"Ah, just some remarks 'bout us," he tells him, shrugging his shoulders. "Guess they saw us together on the bike and started their rumors or whatever."

"And what about Lola?" Johnny stares at Peanut, squeezing his hand ever so slightly.

"You said I deserve better, right?" he asks. There's an energetic nod and he's smiling so big at the senior that he's worried he's gonna pull the muscles in his face.

"Of course you do! The boss deserves the best!"

"And I got a feelin' that "best" is gonna you."

Chapter Text

If it wasn't for the fact that they were dating and he loved seeing him happy, Trent would be in his dorm by now, either asleep or beating someone. But, looking out at the football field, he notices that he's getting a smile every now and then. He just sighs. Kirby Olsen had been kept behind by the famous Ted, the football star saying that they needed to train more considering next week was a big game against their rival school. Guess Trent would be attending that, too.

Luckily, he wasn't the only one watching the practice. Of course, the cheerleaders were there, giving them their pep talks and whatever else. Trent didn't care for them. So long as they weren't all over Kirby, it wasn't his problem. There were also some other people walking around, occasionally stopping to watch a small portion of the practice before continuing on. A couple people stopped to do their homework as well and honestly, that wasn't such a bad idea. At least they had something to pass the time.

It was about 7:30 when Kirby looked back at the blond, giving him a slight nod of the head. Trent's quick to get up, stretching and cracking his neck. He walks down the bleachers, sparing one last glance at his boyfriend before going to the fountain. This is how it was ever since they dated. Kirby, still not wanting anyone to know about their relationship, wanted Trent to go sit by the fountain and wait for him. Of course, he sent him on his way just before practice was over so he wouldn't be waiting all night. Then, Kirby would get changed and take a quick shower and come greet him. It was always the same for the greeting. Kirby would reach out, grab his hands and lean up to either kiss his cheeks or lips. As cute as it was though, Trent was getting tired of the same old thing. Was he not good enough for anything better? Was Kirby tired of him? Was Kirby just that ashamed of their relationship?

Trent sits by the fountain, waiting for the teen. Maybe he should break up with him. At this point, he felt more of just an object for the jock to touch and hold. But, he did enjoy being with Kirby. He treated him with respect and liked to surprise him with small gifts. It was cute, really. But lately, he just didn't feel the spark.

He was at the fountain for about ten minutes before Kirby finally comes out of the gym, being the first one. His hair is damp from his shower and he's running over to him, a huge smile on his face.

"Hey, babe!" And here it is. Grabbing his hands and leaning in, pecking his lips. Trent just smiles at him, standing up and following him down the stairs and towards the old parking lot. Not many are out walking around, so Kirby has no problem holding his hand. "So, I was thinking that we could go to the carnival tonight. What do you think?"

"Sure," His reply isn't as friendly as Kirby was hoping for and he frowns slightly.

"Is something wrong?" he asks. Trent shrugs. "Well, come on! Tell me!"

"I just feel like you don't really care for me anymore," he confesses blandly, "Like you're ashamed of us, or me at least."

"No! That's not it!" he cries, no longer walking. Trent lets his hand go limp, expecting to have it slip out of the jock's grasp, but Kirby just tightens his hold. "I'm not ashamed of you! If I was, we wouldn't be dating!"

"You don't show it!" he shoots back, "I've already told you, I'm a star, Kirby! I deserve the best!"

They sit there bickering for a bit, both blaming each other. Trent wants to be more open with their relationship, while Kirby says he hasn't even told the others in the bully clique about them. And finally, Kirby breaks, tears in his eyes.

"Trent, you're my only confidence when I go play!" he finally confesses, and Trent stops talking. He stands there, staring at the shorter teen as he cries. "You think I really drag you out to my practice just to have my own personal cheerleader? Who doesn't even seem to notice me? I want you there so I have more confidence to do anything! Do you think everyone else on the football team just  accepted  me? They hazed me for  months  and sometimes it feels like it's still going!"

Trent let him rant, finally understanding. How insecure Kirby really was. Honestly, he never considered any of it. Yeah, Kirby was a freshman and was the youngest football player, but by how he always paraded around being so proud of being the youngest and being a wide receiver, he never thought it was something bad. He supposed he should have thought about it more. The jocks weren't the nicest clique, especially that one guy, Damon. But when he hears Kirby stop talking, now just standing there and crying, he reaches out, pulling him into a hug, resting his head on top of his. He wonders how long he let all of this build-up. Maybe that's why he was always wanting to fight someone or even tackle anyone on the football field. It was his only outlet since he assumed venting wasn't on his list, considering they just stood there for a good six minutes while Kirby confessed his insecurities and fears. One of them, surprisingly, was losing Trent. And that comment made him actually feel bad, considering just earlier he was deciding on whether or not he should even stay with the jock.

"You won't lose me," he whispers to the sobbing teen, "I'm your personal cheerleader, remember?"

Kirby looks up at him, bloodshot eyes and tears still running down his cheeks. He looks pathetic, honestly. But, he supposed this pathetic teen was his. So, wiping his tears away, he gives him a slight smile. Even if they ended up hating each other in the end, Trent could stick it out while Kirby was a football player. All that money he would make would help pay for acting school, anyways.

"Come on. Let's go to the carnival and have fun," he starts, pulling back and grabbing his hand. "And don't ever keep quiet like that again. You need to man up and tell me."

"Yeah, I should've," Kirby's finally giving him a smile as they walk over the bridge and towards the carnival. Halfway there, Trent notices a large grin that breaks out on Kirby's face. He just looks down at him, head cocked.

"What's got you so happy now?" he asks, "You feel better after talking?"

"A little, but," They stop near the end of the tunnel leading to their destination. Kirby lets go of his hand, now wrapping his arms around him. "You're right. You are my star."

Trent laughs, holding him as well and leaning down to press his lips against his. It's slow and sweet, and Trent notices something as they're in their embrace. They're practically at the entrance of the carnival, and people are more than likely staring. Maybe he's trying to show that he's not really ashamed of their relationship.

Chapter Text

There were posters all over the school, telling everyone about the dance that night. Whatever. It's not like Ricky would be attending it, anyways. Dances were stupid and even if he wanted to go, he didn't really have anyone. Maybe if he still had his girl… Oh, who cares! It was her loss, anyways!

He doesn't really interact with the other greasers as much as he usually does. He can't get his mind off of his ex and everyone seems to take notice. Vance is constantly talking to him, making jokes and whatnot. Lefty's trying to get his help in fixing a bike, which he didn't really need help with, but the gesture to distract him is nice. And Lucky is the one spending the most time with him, giving him tips about bikes and cars, telling him about engines and everything else. None of these interactions go unnoticed. Ricky knows what they're doing, and he appreciates it. But, a part of him does wish they would stop. Wish they would just let him have some time to himself so he can recover.

"So, are you going to math today?" Lucky asks, giving him an expecting look. Ricky shrugs.

"I dunno. Don't really feel like it," he grumbles. He sees the teen just chuckle, shaking his head.

"You should," he continues, "It sucks but it's good for you."

"Yeah, thanks, dad," Another chuckle. He reaches out, patting Ricky's shoulder.

"Just take my advice, will ya?" He gives his friend another shrug but does give him a small smile.

"We'll see, man," Lucky rolls his eyes, both gathering their things as the bell rings. They walk out the door, both beside each other. Lucky had chemistry, so they'd be going to the building together, and Ricky wasn't surprised when the other greaser reminded him to go to his locker so he wouldn't forget his textbook. Contrary to what others may think, and to how he could act at some times, Lucky was a nice guy. For the greasers, at least. Though he was a junior like him, he did work on cars. But, he never bragged about it to any of the younger greasers, or even the other juniors. Plus, he was always there for advice and always trying to get everyone to do well in school.

Opening his locker, Ricky jumps when a piece of paper falls to the ground. Hesitating, he bends down and picks it up, unfolding it and looking at what's scribbled inside. It's for him, to his surprise. Honestly, he was thinking that maybe someone had mistaken his locker for another person.

" You're too good to have someone out of your life bring you down so much."  What the hell? He looks around. No one's around him, and he didn't see anyone leave his locker when he was walking towards it. He didn't recognize the handwriting, either. Was it even from someone he knew? Was this just some joke?

Letting out a sigh, Ricky rips up the note and throws it out. He grabs his textbook, slamming his locker shut and heading for Mr. Hattrick's class. Yeah. What a cute little note, reminding him of how his heart was still broken over some girl. He would love to meet whoever gave him that note and beat them down.

He doesn't know why he let Lucky talk him into going to math. Mr. Hattrick is as boring as ever as he goes over the subject and he can barely pay attention. He's constantly looking outside, wishing class was over. He can't get his mind off of that note, either. He keeps wondering who it was from, and why they care. From what he knew, no one really fancied him. Maybe they got the wrong locker? Maybe it really was a joke? Maybe he was just overthinking it. Shaking his head, Ricky turns his attention back to his notes. Where the hell were they? When he looks back up at the board, he doesn't see any trace of where he had left off. Did he space out for that long? Letting out a groan, he puts his head down, crossed arms acting like a pillow for him. He still had an hour of class. Maybe he could sleep off these thoughts.

Ricky doesn't feel like he even fell asleep by the time the bell rings. He picks up his head, seeing everyone's already walking out the door. Quickly gathering his things, Ricky practically stumbles out of the classroom, Hattrick saying something about paying more attention next time. Yeah, sure. He makes his way for his locker, putting in the combination and throwing it open. Another note falls out, and he can feel his eye twitch. What now?

" Dance is tonight and I wanna go with you. I'll see you by the fountain."  Oh yeah, this person would. And when Ricky got his hands on them, he was gonna take out his frustration. So, throwing his things inside, he slams his locker shut once more and makes his way for the fountain. Honestly, he wasn't sure what to expect. Didn't know how to prepare himself for it. Though, a part of him hoped it was some pretty girl. Who it could be, he didn't know considering no one at Bullworth seemed to give a damn about him. But, a guy could dream.

Getting closer to the fountain, Ricky stops. That familiar jean jacket sticks out like a sore thumb against the grim scenery around it. He feels his stomach churn. This is either some sick joke or just a coincidence. Either way, he wasn't sure he liked it.

"Lucky?" Ricky keeps his composure, walking toward his friend. At the sound of his name, Lucky stands up, turning around and smiling at him.

"Hey, Ricky! You good?" He nods, the two only a few feet apart, Ricky's hands in his pockets.

"Yeah. I was supposed to be meeting someone here," he informs him, "You that person?"

"Of course I am!" he laughs, "Who else is gonna know your locker, except the others?"

Ricky stands there, practically dumbfounded. Lucky De Luca, his best friend since last year, was the one who had left the notes. And he's wearing that stupid grin, too. Ricky groans.

"What? You ain't surprised?" Lucky asks. His friend just shakes his head, going to punch his arm.

"I wasn't exactly in the mood for games," he tells him, "Or a dance."

"Oh, c'mon! It'll do you some good," he presses, going to grab the sleeve of his jacket and lead him towards the gym. "You need to stop moping all the time!"

"I was perfectly fine until you left that first note!" he retorts. Lucky just rolls his eyes.

"Trust me," And that's all he can do. Pray, and trust his best friend. Ricky follows him, though he's pretty much dragging his feet as the teen leads him inside. It's more crowded than he likes, but he can easily spot Johnny with Lola and Hal with Eunice. At least his other friends were here and enjoying themselves. But honestly, Ricky just feels out of place as he watches everyone mingle and dance, chatting and messing around. He knows Lucky's just trying to help, but it still tugs at his heartstrings.

"C'mon," He's led up to the top of the bleachers, both sitting down and staring at the crowd. He leans back, doing his best to relax. Lucky's on some tangent about something. He's not really listening, to be honest. He's trying to concentrate on the music. Who picked these songs? They sound awful.

"Ricky! You even listenin'?" Lucky punches his arm and Ricky snaps his head to look at him.

"Not really," he confesses and he's pretty sure if they weren't on such good terms, he would've gotten a good right hook to the face. "What were you sayin'?"

"Man, forget it," he grumbles, slouching forward, hands clasped together. Ricky scoffs. Whatever. They sit in silence for the next couple of songs, and Ricky wonders if Johnny or Hal has even noticed them yet. Probably not, considering they would've come up to say hi or something. Finally, the silence gets to Ricky and he taps Lucky's shoulder.

"What were you sayin'?" he repeats. It takes his friend a couple seconds before he straightens up and stares him dead in the eye.

"I was saying," he starts, sounding obviously irritated. "that you should really look into finding someone else. I know you're hurting, but it's been a good couple of months, man! Find someone else already."

"And who should that be?" he asks. It's his turn to sound irritated now. Was Lucky blind? Had he not seen that he  had  tried to find someone else? Or was he just being stupid?

"Someone you can trust," he tells him nonchalantly, "Someone you got a strong connection with and known a long time!"

"That it?" he laughs, "Gee, thanks, pop, but I don't think I know anyone in Bullworth that's worth my time, or even have an attachment to."

Lucky just stares at him before sighing. He stands up and leaves without another word.

"Lucky!" Ricky calls after him, standing up and pretty much chasing him out of the gym, no doubt having people stare. Oh well. To hell with them. "Lucky, what the hell?!"

The teen finally stops, turning around and staring at him. Honestly, Ricky felt better when he was trying to guess who was asking him to the dance. This look Lucky was giving him made him feel… guilty. He didn't like it.

"You don't have a connection with anyone?" he asks, "Not anyone in this whole town, huh?!"

"What answer do you want?!" he cries, "Do you want me to make it up? Should I pull a name out of a damn hat?! Will that make you happy?"

"I've dropped so many hints!" he yells, taking a couple steps toward Ricky, who instinctively moves back. "I even told you back in the gym, but you're so caught up in yourself you weren't listening!"

"Then tell me again, if it's that important!" Maybe he should've been paying attention back in the gym. Maybe then he wouldn't be so confused and in a yelling match with his best friend. They stand there, staring each other down for what feels like forever for Ricky. "Well?"

Three strides. That's all it takes before Lucky's right in front of him, his jacket gripped tightly in his hands. Their lips clash together, Ricky grunting in surprise. Even if he wanted to, he can't move. He can't push Lucky away. He can't pull him closer. He can't do anything. He's frozen in his place and his head is spinning. Lucky runs his tongue across his bottom lip, and he can't open his mouth to have this go any further. Noticing this, Lucky pulls back, looking in his eyes for any trace of emotion. Still, he can't move. His heart is pounding so hard it's practically blaring in his ears. His best friend, Lucky De Luca, had just kissed him. He doesn't know how to feel.

"I..." Even though he wants to say something, nothing will come out. Still, the other greaser just stares at him. He feels so awkward.

"I like you, Ricky," he finally confesses, "You're a good guy, and it hurts to see you so down about someone who you haven't even had any contact with for months."

He's still silent. His body is going numb and he feels dizzy. Lucky leans forward, pressing his lips against his one more time. He's persistent, he'd give him that.

"Well?" He pulls back, loosening his grip on his jacket. "Say somethin', dammit!"

"I..." His brain turns itself upside down looking for a response. "honestly don't know how to respond to any of this."

He looks so defeated and it makes him feel horrible. He lets go of his jacket, taking a step back. His head is down now, and Ricky still can't move.

"So, you don't like me, huh?" he asks. Well, he liked who he was as a person.

"Lucky, you're a great guy," he starts, finally being able to speak without any hesitation. "But I dunno if  this  would work out."

"Yeah, I understand," No he didn't. He was just saying that. What else could he respond with?

"Maybe I'll change my mind later on," he tells him. Lucky just nods, turning his heels and starting to walk off.

"I hope so." Ricky watches him leave, and though he wasn't the one being rejected, his heart feels heavy. Lucky was his first friend. He told him  everything  that came to mind, whether it be his deepest, darkest secrets, or even a stupid dream he had. And even though Ricky was a junior, an average one who didn't work on cars mind you, he still gave out ideas on what parts went where while Lucky was stuck on building the damn thing. They were always there for each other, and he felt horrible for turning him down.

"Hey, Ricky! What's going on, dude?" Hal's voice makes him jump and it feels so weird to move after being frozen for so long.

"Oh, hey, Hal," He gives his friend and his date a smile. "You guys enjoying tonight?"

"It's the best!" Eunice beams, "What happened to your friend?"

"Oh, you mean Lucky?" He takes a glance in the direction his friend had walked off in. "Just… something we couldn't agree on."

"Really?" Even Hal's surprised to hear that the two couldn't come to an agreement on something. "What was it about?"

"Don't worry about it," His smile returns and he gestures towards the gym. "Why don't you guys go on back inside and have fun?"

"Come with us, man!" he suggests. Ricky hesitates before nodding and following them back inside. His head is still spinning with thoughts of Lucky. It was gonna be one hell of a night when they got back to the tenement.

Chapter Text

"Hey… hey, Pete… hey! Moron!" Gary's voice was getting quite annoying, along with how many times he was poking him. Pete tries his best to ignore the teen behind him, working on the worksheet before him. But, Gary finally stops poking him, and reaches out, pinching his back. Pete sharply inhales and has to bite his tongue so he doesn't yell and make a scene. He finally turns around in his seat, glaring at Gary.

"What?!" His voice is hushed, but he makes sure Gary can hear the anger in his voice. The senior just chuckles.

"You got anything planned for after class?" he asks calmly. Pete just stares at him. All that just to ask if he was doing anything?

"No, Gary, I don't," he grumbles, turning around and continuing to work on the assignment. He can't see it, but he sees him grinning.

"Great! Then you can spend break with me!" The thought alone makes Pete frown. He was a freshman at Bullworth, Gary being his new roommate and, currently, only friend. He was pretty crazy, but then again, so was everyone else in this school. From what he knew, though, Gary was the only one taking medication to calm down whatever it was he had told him. "I got this great prank I wanna do on the jocks, and you can tag along!"

"Gee, how nice," Pete leans back in his seat, finally finished. He knew he would regret agreeing to go with Gary, but something about the senior fascinated him. Maybe it was how energetic he got when talking about his plans, or how reckless and carefree he seemed to be.

But that's how it all started. How Pete found himself being dragged to the gym, Gary's hand clenching his tightly as he went on some ranting spree about how this would be such a good prank or something like that. Did he ever stop his rambling? Pete wondered if Gary was so into pranks since it was his last year at Bullworth. But weren't seniors supposed to do a huge prank together? And against rival schools or principles? Maybe that was just in the movies, he wasn't sure.

Gary leaves him at the bottom of the bleachers, telling him to distract anyone who tried to go down into the locker rooms before he returned. How fun. Pete takes a seat on the bottom bleacher, head in his hands. This isn't how he thought he would be spending his day. Then again, Gary was always thinking up some plan. So, he assumed that no matter how he wanted to spend his day, Gary was going to convince him to do something else.

The doors to the gym open and Pete can feel his heart race, Ted and Damon walking in and talking about something. A part of him wants to run at the sight of the jocks, but he stays right where he is. Ted's the first to notice him.

"Hey, runt," he greets, voice not exactly welcoming. "What are you doing in here?"

"Ah… waiting for gym to start?" he replies, chuckling nervously.

"You got gym today? Really?" Damon questions, taking a couple threatening steps toward him. "Cause I've never seen you in here for gym on Thursdays."

"I'm meeting someone," he blurts, mentally kicking himself for having such a lame excuse. "I-I'm waiting for Algie! He's supposed to help me with my math homework!"

They stare at him for what feels like forever before Ted starts laughing.

"Sure, kid," He reaches into his backpack, pulling out a stack of papers. "Here. Tell Algie to "help" with my homework, too."

"Mine, too," Pete's thrown the two packets of both math and science, and he stares down at them for a second. A whole bunch of numbers that don't make any sense to him. Hell, he'd want help if he had this type of homework. He opens his backpack, putting the papers inside.

"Y-yeah! No problem!" Ted and Damon continue on their way, Ted saying something about Pete being a weird but good kid. He supposes he's just poking fun at him. But before they reach the bottom of the steps, Gary's coming back, wishing the jocks a good shower or something of the sort. Pete's just glad they decide to let him go with a warning. It makes him let out a sigh in relief, glad he wasn't going to have to go try and break up a fight, to where he would probably be beaten himself anyways.

"Get ready!" Gary's excited but quiet voice makes Pete's stomach do a flip. He takes a seat next to him, both listening intently to what was going to happen. The showers turn on, and immediately someone's screaming and it sounds like they've fallen over. Gary is snickering and a few seconds later, Ted's running out, his skin a bright pink and his clothes soaked. No time is wasted, Gary grabbing Pete's hand and hightailing it out of the gym, Ted and now Damon right after them.

"Gary! What's you do, man?!" Pete questions, but he can only hear him laughing.

"I'll tell you in a second!" he replies. The jocks are getting closer, and he can feel Gary quicken their already fast pace. He can't breathe and he feels like his throat is closing up. Apparently, Gary noticed his hard and heavy breathing because before Pete knows it, he's being pulled down and into a bush. His legs feel numb and Gary clamps his hand over his opened mouth, hushing his panting. He tries his best to steady his breathing, hearing footsteps run by. Before he can move to get out of the bush, Gary pulls him closer, lips right by his ear.

"There's more," he whispers, and the hot air his voice creates sends a shiver down his spine. They hear more footsteps rush by, and Pete's sure he can hear Kirby shouting for them to come out. When they're sure they've passed, Gary loosens his grip on Pete's waist. His breathing is still horribly heavy and it feels like there's a huge weight on his chest.

"You're still tired?" Gary asks. Pete shakes his head, reaching into his bag. He's quick to grab his inhaler, and the senior just watches him use it in surprise.

"S-sorry," he starts, looking at him as he puts the inhaler back in his backpack. "I actually have asthma and all that running kind of triggered it..."

"You should've said something, Pete," He nods. It's true, he should have. Gary never knew about it, considering he never used it in front of him. Then again, Gary never made him run that fast before. Still feeling a bit weak, Pete rests his head on his friend's chest, closing his eyes.

"Heh. You comfortable, Petey?" He doesn't like the snide comment but decides not to fight when Gary wraps his other arm around him.

"Just leave me alone, man," he grumbles, "I don't feel good."

"Oh, poor Pete," he mocks, "'Running is too hard for me!' You should've told me sooner about your problem, you know? I would've tweaked my plan so you wouldn't be so dramatic like this."

"Whatever, man," Pete lays there for lord knows how long, Gary rubbing his back in, what he assumes, an attempt to calm him down. His body still feels a little numb after all of this, and he feels a bit sick. But he's not willing to voice his problems, especially to someone like Gary.

"You feeling any better?" He nods once more, looking up at him and smiling slightly. "Good. My ass is starting to get numb."

"Now who's the complainer?" he teases. There's a smack on his back in response to his remark, but he knows it's not as harsh as it could be. Slowly, he slides off of Gary and removes himself from the bush, looking around and making sure they're alone. With everything clear, Pete helps up his friend and they start on their way back to the dorm. Well, kind of. Halfway there, Gary finally stops, staring at Pete.

"Why do you hang out with me so much?" he asks, catching his attention. "Do you like me or something?"

"What?!" What kind of accusation was that?

"People don't normally hang around me for long," he continues, "Hell, everyone else in this school hates me. But you're always going along with whatever plan I have. What gives?"

"Should I not wanna hang out with my friend?" he asks, chuckling nervously. Gary raises an eyebrow.
"Friend?" he repeats. Was he not used to the word?

"Yeah? We're friends, aren't we?" The senior beams and it makes his stomach do another flip. He walks up to Pete, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him close.

"Aww. I figured I was at least best friend worthy!" he laughs, going to use his free hand to rub the top of his head like a child. "Unless you're more into me?"

"Gary, cut it out, man!" he cries, trying his best to get out of his hold. There's just laughter. And when Gary finally lets him go, he stares into those crazed eyes that always made him feel some type of want. Leaning down, there's a soft kiss planted on Pete's forehead, his face heating up.

"Ha! I was right!" he proudly announces, "You do like me!"

"What?!" Gary holds himself in a more victorious manner. "What the hell?!"

"Ah, don't worry, Petey," he coos, going to hold his cheeks in his hands. "I won't tell anyone that you have a crush on me."

"You're crazy!" Another round of laughter from the old teen.

"And you're such a girl!" he shoots back, going to continue on his way to the dorm. He stops once more, looking back at Pete with a smirk. "Femme-boy."

"Knock it off, Gary!" he shouts, and he puts a hand over his chest, faking a hurt expression.

"Oh, you're really hurting me, Pete!" he laughs, "Or, should I say femme-boy?"

"You're such a jerk..." Pete pushes past his friend, who's still laughing right behind him.

"I think I'll keep that name for you!" he calls and the freshman just lets out a groan.

"Please, don't."

Chapter Text

Head up, Gord. You can do this. Just be brave. He'll be there to protect you if it gets out of hand. He has to.

There's about five more minutes before the bell rings and the prep is doing something totally unthinkable to everyone. Trespassing into dirty grounds, hands fiddling with the end of his Aquaberry sweater. He can feel himself cringe as he walks towards the auto shop, the smell of grease and smoke completely revolting. This isn't exactly how he planned on starting the beginning of his afternoon break. And when he catches sight of an angry-looking greaser staring him down, he bites his lip.

Head up, Gord. Just a little longer. He'll be out soon.

"Back off, prep," he snarls, taking a few threatening steps towards Gord. "Wouldn't wanna get your clothes dirty, now would ya?"

He bites back his insults, seeing a couple other greasers poke their heads around the corner, obviously curious as to who their friend was talking to. And when they catch sight of him, they quickly come around the corner, standing beside their friend. What did he get himself into this time?

"You lost or somethin'?" the hefty one asks, taking a step forward. Gord stands his ground, feet firmly planted on the disgusting cement. He couldn't back down; couldn't let these poor people detour him from his goal. "You hear me, rich boy?!"

"Shouldn't you be collecting food stamps or something?" he replies, turning to look away from the teen, arms crossed. There's just a huff.

"What'd you say to me?!" He can feel the greaser get closer, and he can tell the others are readying themselves for a fight. He takes a deep breath as he grits his teeth.

Head up, Gord. Don't let some welfare cases frighten you. Besides, he'll be out soon to aide you if anything gets too out of control.

"Just because I'm rich and well dressed doesn't mean I'm afraid to fight!" he shoots back, snapping his head to glare at the hefty teen, getting into a proper fighting stance. "Know your betters, greaseball!"

"Let's go, skinny," The big teen wasn't even the one who hit him first. It was one who had spoken to him first in the back that held a slingshot. The rock that was shot at him had hit his shoulder hard and Gord let out a grunt, holding the spot in pain. What a cheap shot. And as he threw his first punch, landing a decent right hook onto the teen's face, the bell rang. It made his heart race even faster. He'd be out soon. He'd be out to protect him, wouldn't he?

He's not sure when the other greaser had gotten close, but the punch to his side made him stumble. A green-eyed greaser with auburn hair and a confident grin on his face. Another punch is landed on his jaw and Gord falls into the arms of the big greaser he was arguing with moments ago, his arms being held so he couldn't fight back. And before he's hit again, the greaser with the grin is tackled to the ground. Though Gord would've been ecstatic to see his "knight in shining armor" come help, he hated how the other greaser still had a hold on him. He struggled to get out of his grasp, even tried kicking behind him a few times, but nothing worked. It wasn't until Jimmy was done beating the greaser in the jean jacket that he got help. The ginger had run over and pushed his captor to the ground, Gord going along with him. He was up in seconds though, feeling disgusted as the dirt ruined his outfit.

Another rock flew past him, a gasp escaping his lips. He looks around, spotting two more greasers, one brandishing a slingshot as well. Scanning his surroundings, he spots a little can of green spray paint. He's quick to pick it up, smirking as he notices the distance between himself and the greaser. A couple strides forward and he's spraying the paint in his eyes, making the teen scream out in pain. And before he can get another spray in, the second greaser that had shown up is now in front of him, his fist catching his lips and sending him backward, the spray paint falling out of his hands. He's kicked in the stomach a few times, and god it feels so worse since he had skipped breakfast this morning. It's not long before Jimmy's grabbing the greaser, though, and he's able to get up. He's shocked at the sight before him. All of the greasers who had come to beat him down were now on the ground, squirming in pain, and the one who was kicking him is soon just like his friends. He's surprised, though this was Jimmy Hopkins who had helped him.

"Gord, what the hell?" The ginger's voice is irritated and he gives him a sheepish smile.

Head up, Gord. This is what you had been wanting, after all.

"You're lucky I was here," he continues, taking the prep's hand and leading him up the stairs, away from the auto shop. And when they get to the fountain, Jimmy turns around, staring at him. "Now, what were you doing here, anyway?"

"Well, I-I was wondering if you wanted to go to the carnival?" he tells him. It's the truth, really. He had wanted to go to the carnival for quite some time, but the other preps were either too busy or didn't want to be around so many poor people at once in such a small area. Besides, he did want to spend time with the ginger. He could be such a sweetheart when he tried. And when Jimmy hears his idea, he just chuckles.

"That's it?" he questions, scanning his nervous-looking face to see if he would back out. But when the prep nods, he just smiles. "Yeah, alright. Sounds fun."

Gord lights up when he hears that. Jimmy tells him that they can afford to skip their afternoon class for one day, and he couldn't agree more. After all, why go through all that trouble just to tell him he  had  to go to class? They start for the Harrington House so Gord can change and wash the dirt off himself. He stops by his room to pick up a change of clothes before going to the bathroom, Jimmy waiting outside. He looks at himself in the mirror, frowning. His jaw has a bruise on it and his lip has a little cut from the punch he had received earlier. He rummages through the drawers, pulling out a small makeup kit Pinky has. It takes him a bit, but he finally goes through all the steps Pinky had done for the other preps when they came back from a fight. Some concealer with a green tint to it, then yellow for the blueish parts, and finally the foundation to cover the rest up. He was so grateful that he shared a similar skin tone as the other prep. When he's done, he smiles at himself in the mirror. The bruise on his jaw is gone, though the little cut on his lip still remains. He doesn't really know how to fix that, so he just dabs a piece of toilet paper to get rid of the blood and hopes for the best. He knows his tactic to see Jimmy was silly, but the teen was so hard to find. He was always running around and Lord knows Gord wasn't going to be chasing after him and going to the rundown parts of town that he went to. Oh well. Quickly changing into a new set of clothes, he walks out of the bathroom, surprised to see that Jimmy's holding some flowers in his hands, looking almost impatient.

"Took you long enough," he grumbles, thrusting them into his hands. "Here. These are for you."

"Aww," He stares at the flowers, smiling. This was so sweet. "You're such a sentimentalist, thank you!"

Jimmy nods and they go outside, up the stairs, and towards the greenhouse. Finding a little vase, Gord drops the flowers inside and fills it with water, moving it to an open area on the little wooden tables. He could move it into his room later. He wanted to get to the carnival before class began and they were being chased for being truant. As he turns around, Jimmy's arms are around his waist, pulling him close. He gasps slightly, staring at him.

"You got something on your lips," he murmurs and Gord figures he's talking about the cut. Looking away, he presses his lips tightly together, trying to hide the unsightly wound. But, Jimmy reaches out, gently taking a hold of his chin to bring his attention back. He relaxes a bit as he stares into his eyes. He never really noticed, but the ginger sure did squint a lot. Was it too bright in the greenhouse for him? Before he can ask, Jimmy presses his lips against his, holding him tightly. He's shocked, to say the least, but is quick to overcome it. He wraps his arms around him as well, kissing him back and letting out the softest of moans. It's over all too soon for him, but he can't contain his smile when he stares at Jimmy. He sure did know how to charm people.

"C'mon," He takes his hand, leading him out of the greenhouse, the prep practically tripping over his own feet in his dazed excitement. "Let's get to the carnival."

They walk out of the Harrington House, fingers laced together. Passing by the preps, Gord pays no mind to their disgusted and surprised looks. He just walks close to Jimmy, squeezing his hand.

Head up, Gord. Show them you're proud to be with him.

Chapter Text

Sitting up in bed with a book in her lap, Zoe tries to read in the dimly lit room. She didn't even really care for the book in all honestly. It was her roommate's and she was only reading it to keep her mind off of things. Her boyfriend, Jimmy Hopkins, was leaving at the end of the month, beginning of August at the latest. It was already the 29th and he hadn't said a word about it. Of course, Zoe had brought it up a few times. She didn't want to admit it, but she did enjoy being with the ginger, and she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to do long-distance.

To make things worse, she hadn't even seen him all day. For a moment, she wondered if he was just going to leave without a word, if he hadn't already. The thought almost makes her sick and she shuts the book, not even caring where she was. Setting it to the side and turning off the flickering light and lays down. Looking up at the dark ceiling, she listens to the sounds of the other girls shuffling around. It was still summer break, so she wasn't surprised if some were still awake. However, as she turns onto her side to get more comfortable, a soft ticking comes from her window. For a moment, she wonders if she's just imagining things until she recognizes the sound. Small pebbles are being thrown at her window. How lovely.

Throwing her covers off, she storms over to the window, ready to yell at who she guessed was Ricky looking for his lover. But as she throws back the curtains and opens the window, she's surprised to see Jimmy standing below, a small pile of rocks beside his foot as he's standing in the position to hurl another at the glass. As happy as she normally would've been, the fact that he had basically dodged her for the whole day made her see red.

"Jimmy, what the hell?!" she cries, surprising him. "You bail on me for the full day, when you're  going home  soon, and then come here throwing rocks around midnight? What's wrong with you?"

"Zoe, calm down!" He looks around, worried any prefects close by might hear her. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I just had some things to do and I  just  got done!"

"Oh yeah? And those "things" were more important than me, huh?" It's Jimmy's turn to look irritated as he shakes his head.

"No! I was just – you know what? Just get down here and I'll show you!" Too tired to argue any more with him, and somewhat curious as to what he was going to show her, Zoe pulls back and closes her window. Quickly changing into her uniform, she slips out of her room, walking as softly as she can down the creaking wooden stairs. As she opens the front door to the girl's dorm, the warm summer air greets her, along with an upset ginger. Even in the dark, he's still squinting.

"So what's this "thing" you're gonna show me?" she asks, crossing her arms. Jimmy just rolls his eyes, holding out his hand, which she takes a few seconds are scowling at him.

"That's gonna be a surprise," he tells her. Figuring she won't get any sort of hints out of him, she follows him to the auto shop. It's odd to hear it so quiet. Normally the greasers were making some sort of noise by fixing bikes or even just chatting. It was somewhat nice.

Getting behind the auto shop, she watches as Jimmy lifts open the garage, surprised to see a blanket sprawled out across the cement floor, along with some lit candles to brighten up the area on the tables. Slowly following him inside, she sits on the blanket, watching him slowly lower the garage door. The dimly lit garage isn't the most romantic setting, along with sitting on the hard cement with a thin blanket, but it's an effort she supposes is nice. Awkwardly walking over and sitting in front of her, Jimmy looks around before sighing loudly.

"I forgot something..." he grumbles softly, making her laugh.

"You spent all day for  this  and you still forgot something?" she mocks. His squinting face gets worse, but he chooses to ignore her snide tone.

"Yeah, I know, I ditched you for the full day, but I wanted to… surprise you?" he starts, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "Look, I know neither of us are into the mushy crap, but I wanted to do something for tonight."

"And why tonight?" she asks, "Are you really leaving soon?"

" That's  what I wanted to talk about," Now he's got her full attention. He doesn't seem as worried about it as she was, but then again she never exactly saw any facial features from him other than him squinting, and the occasional brow furrow when he was angry. "Look, I talked to my mom and we agreed that I can stay. She doesn't want me around and I… well don't want to leave just yet."

She's almost taken aback by what he's saying, especially how calm he seems to be.

"How long did you know about this?" she asks. He finally smiles at her, leaning back just a bit.

"Uh… remember the day after Gary was carted off?" She nods. "That night. She heard about what happened and called just to act like a good mother. So we talked, and I convinced her to let me stay."

"Well, I wish you wouldn't have waited to tell me, you jerk!" She reaches forward to gently shove him, both laughing softly.

"I thought it'd be a nice surprise," They sit there for a bit, Zoe having finally calmed down from her rage. Though she was angry that he had waited to tell her, it did give her a sense of relief to know that her worries of cutting their relationship short or just having it be long distance wouldn't be happening. It almost makes up for everything.  Almost.

They're not in the garage for too long before someone's banging on the shop door. It's no surprise, really, as they were laughing a bit too loud in the beginning. However, as the door started to open, Zoe had to move off Jimmy's lap, both looking up at Neil with pink faces. The man doesn't seem amused as Jimmy sends a smile his way.

"Uh… evening, sir!" he greets, Neil crossing his arms.

"You know what, I don't wanna know," he starts, disappointment evident in his voice. "Just both of you get back to your dorms and don't cause any more trouble."

"Why are  you  still here, Neil?" Zoe asks, "Don't you live off campus?"

"I wasn't feeling the best," he confesses, "so I stayed in the shop. Didn't want to go home."

"Whatever you say, Neil," Jimmy stands up, going to blow out the candles. As Zoe gathers the blankets and makes her way out of the garage, Neil escorts both of them out of the auto shop. The two make their way to the girl's dorm, yawning a bit. As they get to the front of it, Jimmy reaches out and grabs her hand.

"So, are we good?" he asks. With a smile, she goes to wrap her arms around his neck, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"We're good," she tells him as she walks up the steps, pausing to look back at him. "Just no more secrets, got it?"

"No problem! Goodnight, Zoe." Entering the dorm and making her way back upstairs, she slips out of her outfit and back into her pajamas. Getting under the covers, she pulls a spare pillow close to her, holding it tightly. With a smile, she closes her eyes and falls asleep, still happy that she got to keep her boyfriend.

Chapter Text

" I noticed that you hesitate whenever you say you love her. Why?"

That question rang over and over in his head. He had brushed off Peanut when he asked, but truth be told, he didn't exactly have a straight answer. Of course, he did love Lola, probably more than he should have. But he also knew about the things she had done. Hell, everyone in Bullworth knew, even his parents. He couldn't count how many times his mother had dropped hints about him leaving her for someone better. And she was probably right. He probably should've found someone better. But he couldn't. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get rid of his feelings for her.

Johnny liked calling himself a king – a ruler of his clique and even the academy. Apart from Derby, and maybe even Bif on a bad day, he was one of the strongest students. Who could tell him no? Who  would  tell him no? The prefects? They couldn't control him either. But then again, what was a king without his queen? He knew he shouldn't, but he treated the girl like royalty. She was all he wanted, even if she was majorly flawed. She didn't communicate properly, she cheated, she was even a bit nasty to him at times. He knew it was probably all just a game. But he loved her. No one knew, but when they weren't arguing about the most recent guy she'd slept with, Lola made him feel like he was the only one for her – made him feel like he was worth something more to her than just another guy to pamper her. And that made him feel good.

Picking up some chocolates from Yum Yum Market, Johnny slowly makes his way to Lola's house, stuck in his thoughts. He looks down at the little heart-shaped box in his hands, his face reflecting in the box's saran wrap. Why did he love this girl? She had put him through so much stupid crap, and yet he still held on. Out of everyone he had dated, this was the only one he held on to so tightly, and the only one who had stuck it out with his outbursts. However, this was the only one who had practically kept him around just as a toy. Maybe for bragging rights? But it's who she was. He knew how she loved the attention she had gotten, and he supposed it was just because she lacked it as a child. She was a beautiful girl, he would admit. And Lord knew he had some girls approach him as well. The attention was nice, sure. But for Johnny, Lola was still his one and only, no matter how poorly he was treated.

Getting closer to her house, though, he starts to hear the concerns of his fellow greasers. Ranging from Lucky to Norton, and especially Peanut. He wouldn't admit it, but it always did hurt him.

" She's just using you, man. Find someone better."

" When are you gonna realize she's not for you?"

" Trust me, you can do  way  better than her."

" You know, Johnny, Lola's a little outta pocket."

Walking up the steps and pulling out a spare house key she had given him, he considers just leaving and keeping the chocolates for himself. Especially when he can hear Peanut's voice ring in his head.

" You're too good for her if you ask me."

He moves quietly throughout the house, the light illuminating from the kitchen showing him where his lover is. Spotting her in her pajamas already, he can feel his stomach do a flip. She's humming quietly as well, washing some plates and dropping them into the dish rack. He leans against the wall that separates the living room from the kitchen, smiling. For a moment, he thinks of this. A similar situation in the future, coming home to his lovely housewife. With a smile, he walks up behind Lola, wrapping his arms around her. Screaming and dropping the plate she was currently washing, Lola turns around to look up at him. The surprised look on her face quickly turns to joy as she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

"Oh, Johnny! What a surprise!" she greets, pulling back to smile up at him. "And here I was thinking my king forgot all about his queen."

"How could I forget about you, babe?" Giving her a kiss on the lips, he presents the chocolates which automatically makes her squeal in joy. Taking the box from his hands, she leads him to the living room, both taking a seat on the couch. Tearing into the box, Lola pops one of the chocolates into her mouth. Picking up another one, she instead turns to Johnny, holding it in front of him. Smiling, Johnny opens his mouth. The chocolate is good, and as he bites down, the sweet taste of strawberry makes his mouth water. Going to wrap his arm around Lola to keep her close, both take turns feeding each other chocolates until they've run out. Johnny wonders if he should've bought more, considering the box didn't have that many chocolates in it, and he honestly wanted some more.

"So, Johnny," Lola starts, looking at him with that sweet smile that always made his stomach jump. "why did you decide to come visit?"

"Wanted to spend time with my girl," he replies, pecking her cheek. "Why? Can I not do that?"

"That's not what I'm saying," She turns herself so she's fully facing him. "You know I  love  seeing you, but the chocolates were a surprise!"

"I thought my queen deserved it." She seems to become giddy as she hears the word "queen" and openly hints at wanting to hear more. So of course Johnny showers her with compliments, telling her how gorgeous she was and how much she meant to him. Of course, she drinks it all up, wanting to hear more. And of course, Johnny told her all she wanted to hear. He put her up on that metaphorical throne she loved so much, and seeing her happy and practically all his was enough to make him remember why he stuck with her for so long. Seeing her happy and giving him attention rather than some other guy made him happy. Happier than he was ever willing to admit.

He spends the night and leaves in the morning, quietly making his way out of her house. He never wants to wake Lola's mother, as the woman was one of the nastiest ladies he had met in Bullworth. That meant a lot, too, considering how Johnny wasn't even raised in the most loving home. However, hearing Lola's mother rant and rave about him "sneaking in" was worth it if he could spend some time with his girlfriend.

Walking down the steps and smoothing his hair, he pulls on his jacket and makes his way out of New Coventry. He can't keep the peaceful smile off his face as he rests his thumbs in his jeans' pockets. Even as Peanut scurries up to him under the bridge, following in step as he follows him through town.

"You're up early for once!" Peanut greets, smiling up at him. However, it drops as he notices a hickey on his neck, the collar of his dress shirt just barely covering it. "Oh,  now  I see why."

"Ah, don't act like that, kid," he chuckles, hooking an arm around his friend. "I gotta have some fun sometimes, right?"

"Shouldn't have to be like that," he grumbles softly. That conversation drops, however, and they both make their way to Johnny's house, intending to spend the day playing video games and watching old movies. Although, Johnny can't exactly concentrate. He's lost in thought as the movie starts. It's not a secret that Johnny had anger issues, and it also wasn't a secret that he carried himself more aggressively than he  actually  was towards anyone who wasn't in his clique. But what was a secret was that Johnny had never truly felt the way he did with Lola, with anyone else. He even hated himself for coming to the conclusion. It was all so cliché. But thinking back to his exes, he never held onto any of them too tightly. Only Lola. He supposed that's why he put up with her going out with other guys. He  did  really love her. And at the end of the day, she was still all  his .

Chapter Text

Halloween only came around once a year. Honestly, it was one of Gary's favorite holidays. He didn't care for the treats, but more the tricks. He lived for messing with people, and Halloween was the perfect excuse for those pranks. And tonight was going to be no excuse. Plus, being at a school full of worthless, pathetic kids just ripe for the picking, he couldn't wait. And he already had his prank planned for the night.

He had picked out a costume for Jimmy. Considering he was dropped off towards the end of August without anything, he was positive he didn't have a costume for Halloween. And with the gates being closed for the first part of the semester, he had grabbed something quick from theater class. It happened to be a skeleton costume, one that resembled Johnny Lawrence's skeleton outfit from The Karate Kid. Fitting, in his opinion.

Having put the costume in the closet, Gary goes to lay on Jimmy's bed, hands clasped together as he puts them behind his head. The new kid was different, to say the least. Gary and Pete had arrived on the same day, and though Pete was naturally shy and reserved, even Gary had kept his head down. Learn the students before he made them into his puppets, and it seemed like most students had done the same. The level of aggression from Jimmy was surprising, although Gary was positive it was just an act. However, it did spark his interest. And so far, he did like what he saw from him, especially from when Jimmy had gotten his slingshot.

Seeing Jimmy turn the corner and walk into his room, Gary smiles at him, the ginger squinting down at him.

"I put your costume in your closet," he tells him, "Put it on already!"

He doesn't look too much as Jimmy changes. Still stuck with his thoughts, he focuses on the other teen in the room. There was something captivating about him, not that he would ever openly admit it to anyone. But he had some charm to him. Maybe it was how headstrong he was, or how he could practically make anyone obey him as well. Or, maybe it was because Gary knew that, in the end, he would be able to completely control him. He seemed naive enough to do whatever anyone said.

"Hey, what's goin' on?" Jimmy suddenly asks, turning around and taking a few steps towards him.

"Nothin' much," Gary sits up, a small, snide grin spreading across his face. "Just lying here, wishing I could be more like you."

They chat for a bit, Gary finally hinting to Jimmy about the horrors of always being stuck in your own head, thinking. Of course, the ginger couldn't understand it. He figured the younger teen probably couldn't think for himself; always doing what others asked of him. Maybe that was something he could experiment with later. Of course, Gary already had little Petey on board for his ultimate plan of taking over Bullworth. He wondered if Jimmy would tag along as well.

Eventually, he's following Jimmy out of the boy's dorm, picking Pete out of the trash can. That pink bunny suit fit the freshman well, especially because it was Gary's idea as well. How could he let his roommate go through Halloween without a costume to match his personality? And when they walk outside, a few students laugh at Pete, the three partake in some mild pranks. The normal "Kick Me" signs and throwing stink bombs at others. It was always entertaining, though none of them compared to the big prank Gary had already thought up of. A simple joke against the nastiest teacher at Bullworth, Mr. Burton. And he couldn't think of anyone better to help than his two favorite puppets. However, as they make their way toward the Harrington House, Gary starts to explain his plan.

"What- what the hell?!" Pete cries, a disgusted look on his face. Gary inwardly sighs. Of course, the little femme-boy was going to be giving him problems. "I'm outta here!"

"Whatever, Pete!" he calls after the teen, "Okay, let's do this, Jim. I'll explain the rest later."

The plan was straightforward. Get some droppings from Chad's dog, put them into a bag, and light it on fire. It was the perfect prank. Some arson, something disgusting, and it was going to be great when they saw the look on Mr. Burton's face. Following Jimmy inside the school, Gary takes his lighter out of his pocket, preparing himself for what's to come next.

"Okay, get ready!" he announces, setting the paper bag on fire and running back to where Jimmy was hiding. They watch as the gym teacher came out of the teacher's lounge, yelling at the top of his lungs as he stomps on the bag. The teens laugh as the event unfolds, soon running out of the academy as Burton promises to make their lives hell in gym class whenever he saw them next. They run out of the front, smiles still evident on their faces. However, Gary is a lot more out of breath than Jimmy is.

"Oh man," he pants softly, "those medications are ruining my fitness..."

Unbeknownst to Gary, Jimmy had taken a couple steps forward, seeming to show concern for his heavy panting. As the senior regained his composure and went to walk forward to head for the dorm, he bumps into Jimmy, startling him.

"Watch it!" he cries, taking a couple steps back from Jimmy, stunned at how he had turned back for him. However, that realization makes him grin wickedly. "Do you like me or something?"

"You wish, man," Jimmy rolls his eyes, looking around. Students are still roaming around campus, making the most of the night. "You gonna call it a night?"

"Probably. I'm beat," he replies, both walking down the cement stairs. "You comin' with, or…?"

"I think I might stay up a bit and mess with some more people," The smile on his face makes Gary chuckle. Of course.

"Well, it's been fun," He gives the teen a wave as he continues on his way to the dorm. "Night, Jimmy!"

He holds his hands behind his back, crop held securely underneath his right arm. Tonight was actually funner than he had expected, especially because Jimmy didn't bail on him, unlike a certain  someone . Although, he supposed it was easier with only two people. And who knows, maybe Jimmy would be worthy of helping him take over the school after all.

Getting to his room, he's not surprised to see Pete already changed out of his costume and in his pajamas. He sits up when he hears him walk into the room though, a curious look on his face.

"You missed the fun," he tells him, the freshman frowning.

"What you guys did was messed up!" he counters, laying back down with a huff. Gary rolls his eyes as he changes out of his outfit and into his pajamas. Not wanting to be bothered with folding his costume, he lays it neatly over the back of the chair in front of his desk and sits on the bed. He looks at the yellow bottle of pills on his nightstand for a while. Did he  really  need them? He seemed fine tonight, despite him not being able to run for longer than normal. Hesitantly, he reaches out and picks it up. Risperidone. They prescribed these to help with his paranoia, but was it helping? He noticed it ruined his sleep pattern and, at times, seemed to increase his ADD. They tried combating that with more pills, which also sat atop his nightstand but was any of it really worth it?

"You gonna take your meds, Gary?" Pete questions, bringing him out of his thoughts. He just smirks, tossing the Risperidone into the trash can by his bed.

"Nah," he tells him, doing the same with the other bottle of pills. "What's the point, anyway? I'm better off without them!"

"Whatever you say, man," Silence follows after that, and he assumes Pete's drifted off to sleep. He lays down in bed, pulling the covers up to his chest. He stares at the ceiling, his mind running a mile a minute. No. He didn't need those stupid pills. Tonight's events proved that. He was stable enough, especially when things went smoothly. And when he hears Jimmy come into the dorm, insulting Trent on his way towards his room, he smiles slightly.

No. Gary Smith did  not  need his pills. Especially if he had something, or even someone, to keep him stable.

Chapter Text

"He's making you work? What a bastard!" Slowly making their way inside the school, he listens to Gord talking about working over the upcoming summer.

"No no, I wanna do it!" he replies, opening the door for them. "His firm's handling a big murder trial. I'm going to help out!"

"You're helping on the murder trial?" he chuckles, "Poor bastard's gonna get the chair!"

"Oh, screw you!" Gord shoves him lightly, though he can't hide his smile. "I'm not gonna get the guy convicted! Besides, it'll look good on my university application."

"I suppose," They chat for a bit more, Parker not exactly worried about getting into a university. Of course, he knew daddy could always just make a nice donation to whichever school he wanted. Accompanying Gord to his locker, they chat about the upcoming party at Tad's house. It was supposed to be huge with everyone joining and he was decently excited to mingle with the other students. Gord, of course, starts gushing over what he's going to wear, and maybe even helping Parker pick out his outfit. He just rolls his eyes. He already knew what he was going to be wearing.

Dropping Gord off at his class early so he can finish his homework with the help of the textbook. Luckily Mr. Watts is fine with it. So long as he doesn't blow the classroom up when he's mixing chemicals, the teacher is fine with it. He spends most of the morning inside the classroom, helping his friend find answers and keeping him company. And when there are only 15 minutes until class starts, Parker says goodbye and leaves the classroom. For once in a while, he's going to his locker. Today was science and though he didn't exactly care for the class, he still did want to try and maintain a decent grade without the help of his father bribing the school.

However, as he opens his locker, he notices a couple pieces of paper at the bottom. Curious, he picks them up. They're all folded messily and seemed to be done quickly. Before he can open up any notes, the bell rings. With a sigh, he takes the notes and grabs both textbook and notebook. He makes his way up the stairs, tucking the notes into his textbook for safe keeping as he walks down the hall. Opening the door to his classroom, he's a bit surprised to see students already in there. Earnest and Melvin are going over last night's assignment, and some of the practice questions no one ever bothered with. Eunice was snacking on some chocolates and looked to be finishing up an assignment for another class. Ugh, even Vance was in class already, although he was fast asleep, arms acting as a pillow to keep his head up. He also notices Michael trying to balance himself on two legs of the chair.

Saying good morning to the teacher, Parker makes his way to his desk. Though as he goes to set his things down, he notices another note on his desk. What in the world was happening? Picking up the note and unfolding it, he's almost surprised to see sloppy handwriting. It took him a bit, but he was finally able to read it.

" I wish I could just talk to you. It would be so much easier than just writing these stupid notes, but I just can't bring myself to actually walk up and say anything. You just make me so nervous. And not in a bad way! I don't know. Maybe I'm the stupid one."

There was supposed to be more writing, however, the rest is scribbled out furiously. It's cute, to say the least, and Parker can't help but smile. He opens up his textbook, pulling out one of the other notes.

" We're so different like you don't understand, yet you still interest me. I wouldn't mind going out with you. Just for us to even get to know each other, but I'm sure a prep wouldn't wanna hang out with someone beneath them. I'm probably just wasting my time with notes but I guess it helps get things off my chest? I dunno. I'm wasting paper but I like it."

Someone beneath him? He wondered who this was. The notes seemed to be sweet, but who was leaving them made him curious. He especially wondered who had this chicken scratch penmanship. Glancing up and seeing that it's just reading through the next chapter and doing the questions at the end. Good. This gives him time to read the last note he found in his locker. He was excited as he unfolded the paper, and he smiles when he sees that handwriting becoming so familiar to him.

" Hey! I know this is probably weird to see, and I'm sorry, but I dunno I kinda just wanted to say hi? That I've seen you around campus and in class

Oh gosh, this gets his heart fluttering. Until this moment, he hadn't exactly realized that whoever was leaving these notes actually shared a class, or classes, with him. He looks around, wondering who it is. It couldn't have been any of the nerds, he doesn't think it would be Eunice, and… god he hoped it wasn't Vance. The greaser had finally woken up and was looking around groggily, rubbing his eye and yawning. Before he can even get to Michael, the teen's falling backward and hitting the back of his head on the desk behind him.

"Oh my god, Michael! Are you okay?!" Mr. Joris is obviously startled by the sudden event, but the student doesn't exactly reply. He just kinda looks around, almost as if he didn't think him falling back would happen.

"Nice try, daredevil!" Vance laughs, and Parker rolls his eyes.

"Hey, screw you!" Michael shoots back. Instead of just stopping it there, the delinquent picks up the pencil he was using and hurls it at the greaser, who luckily dodges it be it can hit him.

"You ever been used as a punching bag, freak?" Before anything can escalate any more than it already has, Mr. Joris is getting up and practically running over, grabbing the collar of Michael's dress shirt and pulling him back, nearly choking him.

"Both of you, behave!" he cries as he puts his hand out, keeping Vance from lunging at the other student. Anyone nearby, including Parker, had got up from their seats and moved away so they wouldn't get involved. Apparently, the commotion had alerted a prefect outside and in a matter of seconds, Seth was running through the door. Not even questioning what happened, he grabs both teens, however not exactly gently. This prompts the teacher to scold the man, trying to loosen his grip. Not wanting to stick around and see how this would play out, Parker takes this time to leave. He's already gathered his things when he moved away so he takes this moment to walk out of the classroom, some of the other students following him. He makes his way out of the school and off campus, hearing the bell ring in the distance as he makes his way home. He figured he had enough excitement for the day. Besides, he didn't feel like going to Mr. Harrington's class afterward.

It doesn't take him too long to get home. He pulls out the note was reading during class, remembering he hadn't finished it.

That I've seen you around campus and in class and I don't know. You caught my attention I guess? You're different from the other preps and in a good way. You're a lot nicer than the others too. Maybe I could talk to you one day?"

He wishes this person would come up to him and talk. He's curious and wonders how old these notes are. By the time he's tucked the note back into his textbook for safe keeping, he's already at home. And with a small sigh, he walks up to his porch and sits down on the steps. Picking up the garden gnome, he stares into its glossy eyes.

"Oh, Jeff," he starts softly, "You wouldn't believe the day I've had, and it's only 2 in the afternoon! I've gotten these notes and… I just wonder who they're from?"

He glances over at his book and a smile creeps onto his face. To be completely honest, he wishes there were more. He would love to read more from this person and maybe piece together who it really was.

"You think I should do what, gnomey?" he asks, looking back at the garden decoration in his hands. He just smiles. "Yes, you're right! Perhaps I should see if I can catch them by my locker! Oh, there was one in my class today, too. They have to be in there with me, right? Or maybe they just went in early? Mr. Joris does let anyone in..."

He frowns a bit, going through every student in Bullworth, trying to figure out who it might be.

"Oh, I would be  disgusted  if it was that greaseball," he continues, scrunching his face up at the thought of it. "I'm sure it's not, though. He's never given me the time of day, thank god."

However, he brings the gnome close, hugging it as he smiles once more.

"But still," he goes on, looking out at the street before him. "it's nice to have someone like me. I just  wish  I knew who it was! Do you think one day they'll come forward, gnomey?"

He pulls the gnome back, scanning its smiling face.

"Yes, you're right," he replies to his friend's silent answer. "They'll come talk to me when the time is right."

Once more hugging the gnome, he rests his head beside the pointed hat. Smiling and starting to think about who it could be, he lets out a soft sigh.

"I just wish they would talk to me soon."

Chapter Text

Sitting in math class, Wade frowns. They had a test today, thanks to Mr. Hattrick feeling a bit hostile so early in the morning. And unfortunately for Wade, the numbers on his page didn't make any sort of sense to him. He had filled out maybe three or four answers on the test, but seeing as there were about 20 questions to go through, he didn't see himself passing this at all. With a groan, he lowers his head onto the desk, closing his eyes. He felt stupid – he  was  stupid, and this test didn't help his self-esteem at all. This isn't how he had wanted to start his day.

Halfway through class, and his dream, he hears the distant sound of rustling paper. That grabs his attention, and when he feels a thick piece of paper nudge its way under his arm, he groans and lifts his head. A folded-up note had been stuffed under his elbow, and for a moment he just stares at it, still in a daze. He looks around, finding that most of the students have put their heads down, save for the few nerds who actually took the class seriously. Hell, even Mr. Hattrick was slowly fading in and out. He wondered if the absent coffee mug had anything to do with it.

Taking one last glance around the room, he grabs the note and unfolds it. The first thing to catch his attention is the bright pink words and perfect handwriting. He tries to wrap his head around everything as he rubs his eyes.

" I've seen you in classes, and you're not as dumb as you think. You just need to try harder. I could always tutor you if you'd want."

What? No way. What? He reread the note over and over, still wondering what was happening. Did someone just  really  write this and give it to him? This had to be a joke. Shaking his head, he goes to crumble it up, but notices writing on the back in black ink. Slowly unfolding it one more time, he notices numbers and letters. Eyes lighting up and a smile breaking out, he realizes it's the answers. This quickly fully wakes him up and he starts filling in the answers on his test. Even if they're not right, it's better than what he was going to pick.

The test is done in a minute, and when he bubbles in the last question, he crumbles the paper up one last time and hurls it across the room, the ball hitting the side and falling to the floor. Oh well. At least he had made an attempt. Slumping back in his chair, he finally realizes one of the few nerds in their little circle made of desks just staring at him. Beatrice Trudeau. He frowns at her, positive she's judging him for copying answers. Oh well, screw her, he figures. Not like everyone could be as smart as those damned nerds.

Spending the rest of the class spacing out and occasionally staring at his test to try and understand it, he realizes how slow the time passes. An hour and a half seem like an eternity, and with his friends either in chemistry playing with chemicals, or getting their faces smashed in by dodge balls, he didn't exactly have anyone to talk to. Resting his head back down on the desk, he looks around the room he's grown familiar with. The dusty chalkboard and the chalk that's been slowly replaced multiple times by students stealing it to get out of having to take notes. Mr. Hattrick's gotten smart, though, and started to carry spares, having gotten tired of having his students not being able to follow along as easily and asking extra questions.

After a half hour passes, Mr. Hattrick announces that anyone who's finished early may bring up their test and leave early for the assembly taking place in the gym. Wade already knows he's going to skip it. It was just going over Halloween decorations, what they expected from the students, and so on. He had already gone to it a couple times in his years at Bullworth, and he refused to go again this year. So following in line with the nerds and turning in his test, ignoring the "accusation" of him cheating off of another student or not even trying from his teacher, he leaves the classroom, books hanging loosely in between his arm and waist. He makes a trip to a locker before going to his own, curious to see what he can find inside to pass his time. It takes him a bit to open the lock and checking over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure a prefect wasn't about to tackle him doesn't make him go any faster. However, the time he spent opening the locker isn't completely wasted as he notices a Volcano 4000. He grins widely as he quickly snatches it up. This will be fun, especially if he can get some nerds to admire it. Maybe today would get better.

Making his way down the stairs and towards his locker, he meets Davis along the way. Before he can get a greeting out, the junior is already going off on a tangent.

"If I see one more freshman walk by without saluting," he begins angrily, "I'm gonna flip my frigging lid."

"Yeah, but at least you still got me around," he chuckles, his friend falling into step as they make their way towards his locker.

"It's my cousin's fault I turned out like this!" he rambles on, "If he hadn't made me all those junebugs, I might be…. Normal!"

"I hear you. That sucks for sure man," he sighs, hanging his head. "I get to spend some time with dad this week, which is just  great . I mean, I  love  timing his chugging contests."

"You really do care, don't you?" he chuckles, shoving his friend a bit. Wade rolls his eyes, raising his fist and bringing it down to punch his shoulder. "Hey! What's with the unfair fighting?"

Before he can shoot back a reply, they both stop, noticing Beatrice by Wade's locker. She's folding up a little note and slipping it through the slots, scurrying away. Hesitantly, they walk over, Wade twisting in the combination and opening it. The note's a pink color and the handwriting on the inside is exactly the same as the one from the note with the answers on the back. Was she really the one who helped him cheat?

"What's it say?" Davis tries reading over his shoulder, but the bully doesn't let him.

" Maybe if I have any time before I have to study, we could hang out? I would like to spend some time with you if you don't make me do your homework. I'll be at the bleachers during the assembly if you'd like to talk about tutoring! Or simply just want to chat."

He's shocked, to say the least. Beatrice Trudeau was practically asking him out. Just his luck. The first girl to show him attention like this, and it's a damn nerd. Was she going to belittle him? Make fun of him for being stupid?

"Come on, lemme see!" Wade's quick to ball up the piece of paper, shrugging his shoulders.

"Forget it," he tells him, tossing it into a nearby trashcan and throwing his textbook inside his locker. "Let's just go beat up some wimps. We'll both feel better."

Suggesting it's freshmen, the two walk out. Pete Kowalski is the first to feel Davis' wrath, a short and timid boy that seemed like he didn't understand why he was being picked on in the first place. Wade just watches his friend, arms crossed with an amused look on his face. However, he keeps thinking of the assembly now. What he's gonna say to her, how it'll play out, what will happen. He's brought out of his thoughts when Pete retreats back to the boy's dorm, looking completely ashamed and like he's about to cry.

"Have fun?" Wade asks as Davis walks up, pride evident in his face.

"A lot!" he replies, looking around for any prefects. "You wanna blow the assembly to go hang out with everyone?"

"Nah, I think I'm goin' this year," he tells him. Davis' face contorts to a mixture of confusion and disgust. "Just uh… feel like it, you know?"

"You're gonna bail on us for something stupid they do  every  year?" he presses, arms crossed. "What? Is someone forcing you to go?"

"You kiddin'?" he chuckles, turning his heels. "Nah. I just feel like it. Tell the boys I said hi though!"

"Man, whatever," The two part ways and Wade walks towards the gym, hands shoved in his pockets. Different scenarios run through his head, good and bad. He's still convinced she's going to try and make fun of him, so he starts thinking of ways to bully her; different ways to humiliate her in front of the entire school. It probably wouldn't be too hard, considering she was decently insecure anyway. He's also positive he could get the rest of the bully clique to ruin her life.

Shoving open the door, he notices other students scattered on the bleachers. Of course, everyone keeps to their own clique, noting that the only leader there is Ted. That's not exactly a surprise, considering a rumor had been going around about Ted hosting a Halloween party and that everyone was invited. He wondered if Russell would be interested, along with everyone else.

Beatrice catches his eye, and she seems to perk up upon his arrival. She shoots a small smile his way and he feels himself tense up slightly by how she's secluded from her group, seated on the bottom and closest to the wall. He can feel himself falter slightly as he walks over, maintaining an aggressive and hostile front.

"What's up?" he greets, head held high and looking down at her. She looks intimidated. Good.

"Oh, I… hello," She seems to curl in on herself as he sits down, slouched forward with his arms resting on his knees. "How are you?"

"Well, I'm wonderin' why some dweeb wants to see me," he replies in a harsh tone, "Just wanna prove how smart you are?"

"Ah, I'm just doing some research on… ah, boy behavior," she giggles softly, avoiding his gaze.

"Boy… behavior," he repeats, face twisting disgust. "Is that some nerd talk for "seeing how stupid one guy can be", huh?"

"No, no!" She looks terrified by his rising anger, however, her face becomes a pink color. "I just wanted… I mean, I thought it would be nice to-"

"Spit it out!" he snaps, some students turning to look their way. Whispers start, but at this moment, he's more concerned about what the nerd in front of him has to say.

"I just find you interesting," she squeaks out, "I'd like to get to know you more..."

He falters for a moment, caught off guard. Interesting?

"What? So you can make fun of how stupid I am?" he snarls. She just shakes her head, straightening up.

"I just heard how you're always upset about being dumb," she starts slowly, "so I thought maybe I could help tutor you? And maybe we could get to know each other?"

Now he's completely lost. This had to be some joke. However, before he can keep interrogating the girl in front of him, he hears someone from behind him make a remark about the two talking. Standing up and glaring straight at Constantinos, the one who had made the comment.

"SAY ONE MORE THING," he roars, some teens jumping at his outburst, Beatrice included. "AND I WILL SMASH YOUR FACE INTO THESE BLEACHERS!"

There's a hurried apology, especially when Wade takes a threatening step up the bleachers when he feels like his reply takes too long. Satisfied with his response, he turns his attention back to Beatrice.

"I ain't gonna stick around much longer," he tells her, "This is lame. You wanna chat more? Meet me at Burgers around 5:30. I'm goin' for a nap"

With that, he makes his way for the boy's dorm, not bothering to see the girl's reply. Get to know each other? Tutor him? He wondered how long she had been planning this, and why. So many thoughts were running through his head, so many questions he probably should've stayed to ask. Well, if she dropped by Burgers, he supposed his questions would be answered. However, as he gets to the dorm, he feels his phone vibrate. A text from Davis, calling him a loser and beckoning him to come join. Yeah. Hanging out with his friends sounded good right about now.

Chapter Text

 For the past few months, you’ve been noticing something peculiar about Ricky Pucino. It was no secret that the greaser had hated photography, considering he was never in class last year, but all of that had changed once this new school year started up. You only had two classes with him, but those were the ones that kicked off the whole event. In the morning, you would go to photography and sit in the front with Cornelius by your side, and in the afternoon you would go to shop and sit by Ricky as Neil took attendance and told everyone what they would be doing for the day. Of course, you had every greaser in there doubting you, along with Neil. There was good reason for it, considering you were the only student in Bullworth who had taken up shop for this year that wasn’t a greaser. No one dared go to shop that didn’t  have  to be there or take it, and everyone assumed you would be no exception. It wasn’t exactly a surprise to have this result, but it wasn’t a welcome one either.

 Unbeknownst to many, you were the only child of Tobias Mason, the owner of Shiny Bikes, and one of the nicest adults that resided in Bullworth. Of course, as great as he was, he didn’t always express his joy about having you. He never made it a secret that you came as a surprise, and even his girlfriend at the time had kept her pregnancy with you a secret. From what you can remember, and what you were told, they both tried to have a normal life in Bullworth and be one of those “white picket fence” families. However, with the admiration Tobias got from the ladies in town, your mother would often accuse him of cheating, or even thinking of other women. And after she had stormed out on him for good one night, you were left with a man who knew practically nothing else but bikes. And due to this, you spent most of your time out in the garage, or at Shiny Bikes, watching him fix bikes or even the car that broke down multiple times. 

 The respect the greasers had given you a week into school swelled up the pride inside you. They watched, impressed and also curious, as you fixed bikes in such a short amount of time. Even Neil would praise you, often commenting about how you weren’t so as useless as you looked. The fact that you hadn’t taken shop throughout your whole time being at Bullworth had taken every single student off guard, and one day you even had Larry Romano, better known as “Peanut”, the newest leader of the greasers, asking where you had learned everything. It was at that time you had let it be known who your father was, and it seemed like all of their questions had been answered. The only student who didn’t praise you was Ricky. Rather, he just watched you, almost intently whenever he didn’t have his head underneath the hood of the car he and Lucky were working on. As uncomfortable as it was, you wondered if maybe he was too prideful to ever say anything to you. 

 You noticed that change in him a month in. How he would start showing up to photography every other Thursday, and he would often lag behind you after lunch as you both walked to shop. You wondered if he knew you were aware of his actions. He would disguise it pretty well, you had to admit. He swapped between pretending to be on his phone and walking with Lucky to their class. You never heard what they talked about, but you wondered if they were talking about you. You never exactly had a clique you fit in with, so you stayed alone most of the time and wondered if they secretly made fun of you for not having anyone to hang out with. You had expressed this to your father as well, and his only response was to try to befriend the greasers, considering you would fit in very well with your knowledge, but the clique never seemed very inviting. This year, however, you decided to be brave and sign up for shop as your elective, and even though you were nervous at first, you were pleasantly surprised that no one had bullied you to the point of a mental breakdown yet. Instead, they had welcomed you with open arms to join them for lunch, or even to hang out at the tenements after you had proved yourself. 

 The next change was Cornelius wouldn’t sit by you in class anymore, but rather he had moved clear to the other side of the room, and Ricky would take his place beside you at the desk. You wondered what his change of heart was. He had started coming to photography every Thursday and would even partake in the assignments. You wondered if it was him trying to get his grades up as reality had finally set in. Being a year older than you, you knew he didn’t have a lot of time to straighten himself up as he would be graduating this year… so long as he didn’t fail his classes. You did hear from Peanut that before he had become leader, his best friend Johnny Vincent was in charge and had often nagged the clique to do well in school. Maybe his words resonated with him and he decided to take his schoolwork seriously. 

 When the months had started to get colder and snow started to fall, you started hearing rumors. They started out very rare at first, with only a couple “have you heard this?” from a few students. You tried not to listen to rumors, but one conversation caught your attention one day when Christmas was coming up just around the corner. You had noticed Justin leaning against the brick wall that imprisoned the school, Pedro standing in front of him, that trademark worried look still plastered on his face.

“So, Harrington house has purchased presents for the student body,” Justin begins, a smug smile creeping its way onto his face. 

“It’s really nice!” Presents? For the entire school? For a moment, you ponder what type of presents they could be, and whether or not this was all just some sort of prank. But, if the preps really  did  buy presents for everyone, you wondered what they would contain and what you would get.

“To make it a little more interesting,” Justin continues, “we’ve hidden them all around town!”

“Aw! Whenever I go outside, I get beat up! And snowballs thrown at me!” Pedro cries, and you notice how that look of worry only intensifies on his face. “I hate winter!”

“The risk-reward ratio only adds to the enjoyment, my young, poor friend.” So they were hidden. And most likely they were random items, and probably very expensive. You wondered if you could get your hands on one, and see if you could maybe return it to get the money back. You had planned on getting your father something for Christmas, but the gift you had been eyeing was a pocket watch that played a soft melody when you opened it, and you knew you didn’t have enough money to buy it no matter how much you saved up. But if you could get one of those presents, maybe you could actually get it. The only problem was you didn’t know where to even start looking. Bullworth was so big, with so many hiding places. And with how the preps could be so devious, you were certain they would’ve found the most annoying hiding places for the presents. 

 In the beginning, you looked around campus, steering clear of the football field and observatory at first, nervous the jocks would become overly hostile towards you, especially Damion. But when you decided to test your luck around the fountain and tread into greaser territory, you came face to face with a curious Ricky Pucino. 

“What’s goin’ on?” he greets. You’re surprised he’s talking to you, especially in such a calm manner. The lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth burns brightly as the sun sets behind the mountains, and as the smoke enters your nostrils, you crinkle your nose. A soft chuckle comes from him as he watches you. Removing the cigarette from his mouth, he drops it to the ground and stomps on it, extinguishing the small flame. 

“You’re normally never around shop when you don’t have to be,” he continues, “What’s your deal now?”

“Just… looking for something,” you reply softly, avoiding his gaze. You can tell he’s smiling now, a grin that’s feeding off of your nervousness. You had figured you would’ve had the shop to yourself to look for any of those gifts, and that all of the greasers would’ve gone home by now. To find Ricky here had caught you off guard. And to have him talk to you, well, it made your stomach do flips. 

“Like what?” he presses, taking a step closer. That smug grin gets wider as he tilts his head to the side ever so slightly. “Maybe those presents those preps have stashed ‘round the school?”

“Maybe…” You felt a bit silly admitting you were looking for them, especially to someone like Ricky. Out of all of the greasers, he was the only one who never talked to you or tried to start any sort of conversation. All he did was sit next to you in photography and occasionally hand you tools in shop class whenever he was close enough.

“Tomorrow’s Thursday, right?” he asks, earning a nod from you. “How’s ‘bout you and I use photography to go lookin’ for them?”

“Really? You’d wanna look with me?” A nod from the greaser makes you feel even more nervous. 

“I wanna see what kinda gift I can get for this person I like,” he tells you, “and knowing those preps, they all bought something good.”

 After a bit more talking, you finally agree to go present hunting with him. Apparently, Ricky had gotten over his ex enough to fall for a student, but of course, he wouldn’t tell you. Moving towards the front of the academy, you both part ways past the gate, saying goodnight to each other. Walking towards Old Bullworth Vale, a part of you feels giddy. Ricky had always piqued your interest, especially with his sudden change of heart for photography. 

 That night you didn’t get much sleep, too focused on what the next day would bring. And as fate would have it, you ended up getting to class five minutes after the bell had rung, oversleeping and not hearing your alarm. You were a bit embarrassed to enter the classroom late, every student there turning to look at you. Miss Phillips greeted you, kind as ever, and you took your seat next to Ricky, the greaser smiling at you.

“Never seen you late before,” he comments, “What’s your excuse?”

“Overslept,” You kept your voice soft and your response just made him chuckle. After taking roll and going over the assignment for the day, Miss Phillips finally allows everyone to check out a camera. Even after these few months, you’re not used to seeing Ricky holding a camera, especially being so careful with it. Leading him out to the crossroads between the dorm, you both face the academy and snap a few pictures, making sure you have a decent amount in case you mess up. Turning around and heading towards the beach, you both keep your eyes peeled for any gifts laying in the snow. A present wrapped in bright green and red stripes sits under the dock, and you’re the first to see it. You hesitate for a moment, wondering if Ricky would cast you aside and take it for himself. But if he did, you supposed he wouldn’t have offered to look together in the first place, so with a small smile, you decide to alert him.

“I found one!” you call out, making your way towards the small wrapped-up box. He joins you shortly after, and you both stare at it. You’re still a bit worried he’s gonna grab it, but he just stares at you with an expectant look.

“You gonna grab it or what?” he asks, “You found it, so it’s yours, right?”

Still a bit hesitant, you pick up the box and open it, a white Louis Vuitton hoodie sitting inside, the tag still attached to it and a receipt folded neatly to the side. It was almost $200, well more than enough money to buy the pocket watch for your father. 

“Kinda ugly,” Ricky comments, grabbing your attention. “You gonna keep it, or…?”

“I’m going to return it,” you confess, “I was looking to buy my father something for Christmas.”

“Oh! That’s nice.” Snapping a couple pictures of the lighthouse and putting the opened present into your backpack, you both make your way further down towards the carnival, making small talk along the way. No presents are hiding away anywhere, and a part of you feels bad that you had found your present early. But, Ricky maintains a sort of upbeat attitude and leads you on to the next location, which was the cemetery. That part of Bullworth had always given you the creeps, but you supposed it wouldn’t be too bad with the greaser by your side. 

 The gates were creaky and dirty, and the old church loomed over you. It all looked so gray and bleak, especially with the clouds rolling through Bullworth. You hung back, ushering Ricky to go on ahead as you took your pictures from the gate, abusing the zoom option on your camera. A cheerful “found one!” rings out from somewhere in the cemetery, and it’s enough to spark your interest to get you to take a step inside. The snow crunches under your feet as you make your way over to Ricky, who’s actually beaming at the small box in his hands, the lid lifted just barely to only where he could see. Noticing you trying to peek at it, he quickly closes the box and swings his backpack over to the front of himself, dropping the small gift inside. 

“It’s a surprise,” he tells you, a sly smile spreading across his face. You give him a small pout but decide to not push the question, deciding to drop it and allowing him to take his pictures of the church himself before leaving and heading towards the bridge.

“Did you wanna look for any more?” you ask him as you line up your camera to the dam. 

“Nah, I got what I want,” Ricky isn’t as careful as you, simply lifting up the camera and taking multiple pictures with no care to it looking nice. “What about you?”

“I’m okay,” After feeling satisfied with the number of pictures you both took, you make your way back to school, back to school. You end up telling the greaser who your father really is, and he’s taken by surprise, always assuming that Tobias never had children. You did confess how you weren’t exactly planned, and he just laughed and confided to tell you he wasn’t either and neither was his brother. Curious, you ask more about him, and hear all of the stories about Tony. 

Returning to the academy and back to the classroom, you both return your cameras and hand over the film, allowed to leave for lunch early. Expressing his delight with spending the hour with you, he offers to have you join him and the other greasers. Of course, you agree. You often time spent your lunch alone, sometimes traveling to Burgers on your bike after the gates had opened. To sit inside the garage with the greasers, all of them happily welcoming you, makes you feel good. Peanut’s going on about stories of Johnny and Norton to the newer greasers that had started shop this fall, and everyone, including you, is so captivated by these hilarious tales that time flies fast and the bell soon rings. Throwing away any trash, everyone says their goodbyes and greets Neil as he walks in. Ricky’s chosen the seat right next to yours as Neil slowly starts to take attendance. Out of nowhere it seems, Ricky starts whispering to you, jokes about students and teachers. And with nothing else to do while you wait for your assignment, you listen to him and start to laugh. 

You don’t remember much of what happened next, but you do remember Neil shouting at both of you to leave his classroom and go to the office. Snickers fly around the shop as you both leave the classroom. However, as you make your way toward the main building, Ricky stops you.

“Where ya goin’?” he chuckles, “You really gonna listen to that lunatic?”

“Well, what did you have in mind?” you ask. He smiles, leading you over towards the garage. Curious, and a bit excited, you follow him and get on the back of his bike. He speeds off campus and makes a left, headed for Old Bullworth Vale. You understand where he wanted to go right as you both head through the tunnel and see the front of the carnival. It only heightened your excitement, as you didn’t go to the carnival too often. Tobias was often busy and you didn’t have too many close friends to go with. 

 From afternoon to evening, you both spent the time at the carnival, playing cheesy games and going on rides. You both got to know each other pretty well. Favorite color, movie genre, and what type of music you enjoyed. Surprisingly, you both had a lot in common, and he seemed to gush over the subject of bikes when you had brought it up. His brother had gotten him into fixing things. Living in New Coventry with a single mother, things often broke down that they couldn’t replace. You dared to bring up his father, asking where he was, but he just kept quiet. Perhaps it was the same as your mother?

 Making a quick stop to return the sweater you had gotten from the Christmas box, you led Ricky over to the Aquaberry Outlet. Obviously, the greaser had his face scrunched up in disgust and insisted that he waited outside, muttering something about how he wouldn’t be caught dead in some prep store. You made sure not to keep him waiting, considering the store never really held much interest to you. The pocket watches sat in a little display case in the corner, the fancy “NEW” sign on the middle of the display popping out at you with the bright blue color. They had arrived sometime in July and you had your eyes on them ever since you saw a couple of the preps parading around about having the newest and fanciest arrival to Aquaberry in Bullworth. And as you ignored the disgusted look of the cashier, you felt giddy as he handed over the box wrapped in complimentary gift wrap. You had been so worried you wouldn’t ever get this and to finally hold it made you extremely happy. 

 Exiting the store, you notice Ricky dropping something into his backpack. Giving you a smile, he gets back on the bike you both had ridden over on, waiting for you to hop on the back. And when you do, he starts at a nice pace towards your home in Old Bullworth Vale. All the while, you kept going on about how excited you were to finally have gotten the pocket watch for your father, how you had been certain you would’ve been saving up for another year or so just to get it. Throughout your rambling, however, you didn’t notice how the greaser hadn’t said anything once. He just walked beside you, a smile plastered on his face as he listened to you. And as you got to your house, you turned to give him a smile of your own.

“I had fun,” he tells you softly.

“I did too! Thanks for bringing me out!” Before you can go inside, Ricky’s grabbing your arm and shoves a small box into your hands. He gives you a wink and rides off, at a faster speed than when he had brought you. You stand there for a second, dumbfounded. Looking down at the box in your hands, you notice it’s the same gift he had found today in the graveyard. Your stomach does flips, but you decide to open it inside. Unlocking the door and looking around, you notice that none of the lights are on. Excited that you can have your moment without your father ruining it, you run to your room and drop your things. Sitting on your bed, you finally open the box, surprised to find a bracelet sitting inside. Rhinestones surrounding sapphires, a crumbled up note laying beside it. 

To (Y/N), the most amazing person I could spend my time with. You make photography worth going and you only make shop even better. For the past few months, I’ve been interested in you but never knew how to tell you, so when I noticed you looking for these presents, I figured it was the perfect chance. I’m sure you’ll just break my heart, but I thought it would be a good chance to try. If you feel the same way, maybe text me? And we can go see a movie tomorrow night or whatever you wanna do?

 At the bottom was Ricky’s phone number, and you could feel your heart racing. You had to admit, he was very interesting. Not only did he know his ways around bikes and now cars thanks to shop class, but you did notice how he seemed to excel more than the other greasers. He seemed to have better aim and be able to hold his own better in fights. You were hesitant and shaky as you picked up your phone, but you decided to agree to a date with him. What was the worst that could happen anyway? If you ended up really not liking him, you could always say you just wanted to stay friends.

 Typing in his number with shaky fingers, you send him an excited yes and toss your phone down to let out a squeal. Never in a million years did you think you would be going on a date with Ricky, the teen who seemed to be hung up on his ex for so long. You figured you would ask him tomorrow night what had caught his interest for you. 

Chapter Text

My parents never really let me do anything too crazy…

When Jimmy had heard that sentence leave Pete’s lips, dozens of thoughts flooded his mind. That summer after Jimmy had defeated Gary and restored order in the school, Derby decided to throw a party at his mansion. Everyone in the academy was invited, as a way to celebrate the victory of the ginger, and the seniors who had graduated. From the nerds to the greasers, and even the delinquents, everyone got the invitation. And that meant Pete was no exception. Pinky had come bounding over to the two boys, squealing about the party Saturday night and begging them to show up. When he noticed the worried look on Pete’s face, he asked him what was wrong. Turns out, he had never gone to parties or even small get-togethers. His parents were protective, and the only freedom he had gotten was being sent to the academy. It would explain why he never exactly had proper social skills, having been sheltered most of his life. 

Well, no more! With Jimmy finally having restored order and having a more open schedule, he decided the new head boy needed to let loose and have some fun. And that meant he needed to dress the part as well. Pete had been so nervous, asking him what he should wear and whether or not he would look stupid in certain outfits. He was obviously overthinking it, but it still made him smile. 

“You’ll look good in anything as long as you walk with confidence,” he tells him, though he leads him up the stairs. “But, if you’re  that  concerned about how you look, let’s go find some help.”

“I dunno, Jimmy. Maybe I just shouldn’t go?” His timid attitude was slowly getting on his nerves, the younger teen biting his lip as he played with the hem of his vest.

“Petey, stop being a wimp,” he sighs as they stop outside of a closed door. “This’ll be good for you, trust me.”

“...O-okay. I trust you, Jimmy,” With a hopeful smile, he watches the ginger knock loudly on the door, not stopping under the doorknob turned. A tired-looking teen stood before them, dreadlocks hanging messily in front of his face as he looked at them. 

“What do you guys want?” he asks with a groggy voice, bringing his hand up to rub his face.

“Need your help getting Petey ready for the party tonight,” Jimmy responds, and the teen looks surprised. With a loud groan, he opens his door wider, stepping aside and letting them in. The room is dark, and they notice various posters hanging up, Michael laying on one of the beds in the corner as soft music plays from his phone.

“H-hey, Michael!” Pete sends a smile the delinquent’s way, and he mirrors it.

“Petey! What a lovely surprise!” he laughs as he sits up, combing his mohawk back. “And Jimmy, always nice to see you.”

“Surprised you’re on campus,” he scoffs, making his way over to the empty bed and taking a seat on the edge. “Wyatt, do you have anything to make Pete look less… sad?”

“Ah, I might…” Practically stumbling over to the wardrobe, he throws open the doors. Various shirts and coats hang from hangers, a few stacks of jeans on one end, and a few pairs of shoes placed neatly on the other. Pete stares at it in awe. They all looked like they were of decent quality, and the material seemed expensive. 

“You guys going to that party tonight?” Michael asks, and Jimmy just gives him a nod. With a soft chuckle, the delinquent slowly lowers himself back down onto the bed, moving his arm to lay it over his eyes. “Man, I’m just excited to get some food.”

“I forgot all about it,” Wyatt grumbles as he pulls out a mint-colored shirt. He glances over at Pete before inspecting the shirt once more, finally scrunching up his nose in disgust. He tosses it to the side, making Pete jump a little. “Derby wanted me to DJ for it, and if he wasn’t paying so much, I’d flake on him.”

“You DJ?” Pete asks. The teen nods, sending him a tired smile.

“I work at the movie theater throughout the week,” he responds as he takes out another shirt, this one black with a band logo on it. Once more, he tosses it to the ground. “then I DJ on the weekends out of town.”

“Sounds exhausting,” Jimmy’s looking around the room as Pete chats more with the teen. Miniature lights hung around the room, and there was a small lava lamp on the nightstand by Wyatt’s bed. He opens the drawer to peer inside, noticing multiple glow sticks inside, alongside an engraved lighter and some shades. 

“You guys should take some,” Wyatt says as he glances back at Jimmy, “Party should be fun. At least, I’m hoping.”

“Yeah, sure,” Reaching inside the drawer, Jimmy picks up a couple of the glow sticks, shoving them into his pocket. He also notices a note inside. Looking closer, it seems to be the upcoming events Wyatt would be attending.

“Man, you know what? Screw this,” With an irritated huff, Wyatt starts pulling out a few items. Pete actually takes a few steps back, the new energy in the teen surprising him. He throws two shirts on his bed, along with some jeans and a red tie. He then turns to Pete, looking him over. 

“Are they gonna… fit?” he asks as he slowly reaches out to lift up the white dress shirt. It seemed a bit big, but Wyatt just shrugs, instructing him to put the clothes on. He feels his face turn red as he slowly removes his vest, Michael whistling at him. He had to force himself to keep going, the younger delinquent hitting his friend. He puts on the black Motörhead tank top first, then slips on the white dress shirt. It was a bit baggy and the sleeves ended at his knuckles, but Wyatt just rolls the sleeves up to his elbows. He then helps him with the tie, leaving it loose to hang around his neck. Pete then turned around, removing his brown slacks and sneakers before pulling up the black ripped jeans. They were different, he had to admit, and he had grown just a bit frustrated as his toes kept catching one of the rips. He had finally gotten them on though, and Wyatt handed him a belt to help keep them up. He looked at himself in the mirror, and he looked different. He wasn’t sure if the style suited him, but Jimmy was giving him a pleased smile in the mirror, and it made him feel better. If Jimmy liked it, then it had to look decent, right? 

Turning around, Wyatt walks forward to hook a bracelet around his wrists. He admired it, almost surprised. It was decently thick and consisted of silver-looking bullets. He wondered if they were real. Digging back through the closet, the teen takes out a pair of worn converse, letting him slip them on. When he went to go lace them up, Wyatt just smacked his hand away, confusing him. He crouches down, folding the tops of the shoes down to reveal the red plaid inside. Standing up, he looks the young teen over before shrugging and looking at Jimmy. 

“What’s your verdict?” he asks. The ginger shrugs as he looks over Pete, a small smile on his face.

“Looks better than how he did,” he admits, and this makes Pete grin. Jimmy had liked it. With a nod, Wyatt snatches up a green bottle, spraying him a couple times. It smelled nice, and he noticed the familiar Polo logo on the glass. 

“You can keep that stuff if you want,” Wyatt tells him, setting the cologne bottle down by Michael’s bed. “I got too many clothes anyway. I won’t miss it.”

“O-oh! Thank you!” He beams up at the teen. Standing up from the bed, Jimmy walks over and pats his shoulder.

“We’ll see you guys at the party?” he asks as he looks at the delinquents. There’s just a nod in response. Saying their goodbyes, Pete thanks the older teen one last time before they leave the room. He smiles up at Jimmy. He had finally felt better about himself. He could feel his confidence rising as he wore the new clothes. His parents would’ve never bought him anything like this, and he never would’ve had the guts to try it on himself.

“C’mon,” Jimmy starts towards his room, Pete following close behind. “I gotta get ready myself, then we can go.”

Pete sits on his bed with his back towards the ginger as he gets dressed, fiddling with the bracelet around his wrist. The metal was cool to the touch, and the leather seemed thick and sturdy. He wondered where Wyatt had gotten it. Hearing Jimmy zip up his coat, he looks back. The black jacket isn’t zipped up all the way, showing his gray Bullworth shirt underneath. Sitting on the bed next to him, he slips on his gray high tops, tying the laces tight. Glancing over at the younger teen, Jimmy smirks.

“You definitely look different,” he chuckles softly as he stands up. 

“Different good, right?” Pete asks, biting the inside of his lip. Was the ginger going to insult him? 

“Yeah. Different good,” He gestures his head towards the door, and he stands up to follow him out. The sun was going down and he knew the party would be starting soon. Jimmy had picked up his skateboard that had been resting against the wall by the door, holding it in his right hand as they walked down the stairs. Trent had passed them on their way, a surprised look on his face as he saw Pete.

“Whoa, is that Petey?” he chuckles, grabbing the teen into a headlock and harshly rubbing his knuckles against his scalp. Pete lets out a whine as he tries to break free. “Where’d you get the clothes, shrimp?”

“Back off, Trent,” Jimmy sighs as he rips his friend out of the blonde’s grasp. “Don’t you got a jock to keep entertained?”

“Come ooonnn,” he groans, tilting his head back slightly as he rolls his eyes. “I’m just havin’ fun!”

“Whatever man. You’re boring,” he huffs, turning and continuing to walk out of the dorm, Pete’s arm still being held firmly in his grasp. 

“Thanks, Jimmy,” he says softly as they make their way down the cement stairs and towards the front gates. The ginger just grunts, nodding his head. Pete gets on his bike as they exit the campus, kicking up the stand and slowly pedaling down the street, Jimmy right next to him on his skateboard with his hands in his jacket’s pockets. He glances over, eyeing the golden stud in the teen’s ear.

“What made you wanna get an earring?” he suddenly asks, catching his friend’s attention. He just shrugs.

“Just something I wanted,” he responds nonchalantly, “Why? You want one?”

“I’ve… thought of it,” he confesses, and this brings a smile to the ginger’s face. So, he had thought of getting a piercing?

“What else have you thought of getting?” he asks. This time, it’s Pete’s turn to shrug as they slowly make their way into Old Bullworth Vale. He thought for a moment. Everything his parents had sheltered him from, and everything they had made seem bad.

“Tattoos are cool,” he finally responds after a bit, and Jimmy chuckles. Truth be told, he had been thinking of getting a tattoo one day himself. “I also kinda like this style…”

“You look nice,” Pete can feel his cheeks heat up at the compliment. They make the rest of their way to the party in silence, though the younger teen occasionally steals a couple glances at his friend. He had always admired him. His confidence, his style, how he held himself. He wished he could’ve had an ounce of cool in him. 

The music is already going as they pull up to the gate that’s been left wide open. Bringing his bike inside and leaving it by the exit, Jimmy places his skateboard right by it and leads him inside. The front door is unlocked, and when they open the door and look inside, they can see various other students from the academy. Everyone seemed to be getting along well, most of them already having the infamous red solo cups in their hands as they chatted away. A small frown forms on Pete’s lips. It felt suffocating as he moved further into the house. He kept his gaze locked on the ginger in front of him, softly apologizing whenever someone would bump into him. They get to the kitchen, Jimmy greeting Ted and Damon. The two jocks seemed pleased as they seem him, bright smiles on their faces. Pete almost feels like a ghost as he stands closely by Jimmy. His hands are at the ends of his tie, fiddling with it softly. Ted was going on about how much he was going to miss Bullworth, having to move out of town to pursue a career in football. He was, however, excited to announce that Damon would become the new leader of the clique in his absence. The giant teen seemed proud, and of course, both Jimmy and Pete congratulated both. Ted had actually brought his hand out to pat Pete’s shoulder, telling him to take care of the school now that he was the head boy. He just laughed, telling the older teen that Jimmy would be there to help if he needed any help. 

More people show up as the night drags on, the music getting louder. Wyatt and Michael had finally arrived, though they parted ways almost as soon as they walked through the door. Michael had headed into the kitchen, pouring himself a drink and helping himself to the food that was sitting out. Pete had caught his eye though, standing awkwardly against the wall. Shoving one more chip into his mouth, Michael moved his way over, a smile on his face.

“There you are, Petey!” he greets, making the younger teen jump. “Where’d Jimmy run off to?”

“Ah, h-he went to the bathroom,” he tells him, going to play with the hem of his shirt. Michael just tilts his head. He had never really realized it before, but had Pete always been this awkward?

“You okay?” he asks. A nod is all he gets, and it takes a bit of convincing, but he finally confesses how this was his first party. Michael laughs, and it doesn’t make him feel any better. Placing a hand on his shoulder, the delinquent goes on to tell him how he went to his first party last year and he had reacted the same way. His only advice was to have a good time because chances were no one would remember the stupid things that happened tonight. And as their conversation neared the end, Jimmy had finally turned up.

“Hey, Michael,” he greets, though the response is tuned out. He looks the delinquent over, taking in his gauges and facial piercings. Right. He had remembered hearing him say that some of them were done on his own. “You know, Pete said he wanted an earring.”

“Jimmy!” Pete seemed almost embarrassed as the ginger spoke, but the older teen seemed to become excited at this information. 

“Dude, I could totally help you with that!” He seems giddy as he looks Pete over. “Man, screw this party! Let’s go get you a piercing!”

“I-I dunno about this guys,” he mumbles, though he finds his feet moving as he follows the two towards the front door.

“Don’t worry, I know about it,” Michael seems more excited about the earring than Pete, waving goodbye to Wyatt as they walk out of the mansion. The night air is cool as Pete retrieves his bike and Jimmy his skateboard. Along the way back to the academy, Michael’s gushing over where to pierce Pete’s ear, what stud to give him, and even telling him that he had multiple styles to choose from. He even tried to convince him to get a facial piercing, but Pete could only panic, stumbling over his words about how it wouldn’t look good and how his parents would absolutely kill him. The older teen laughs, asking him how his parents would feel if he had brought him over for dinner. Pete didn’t even want to think about it. 

The dorm is quiet as they walk through the doors. Everyone is at the party, save for a couple of children who resided in the dorms until their parents came to pick them up. Making their way up the stairs and to Wyatt’s room, Michael opens the door and lets the younger teens in first. He then guides Pete over to his bed, having him sit on the edge as he rummages through his dresser’s drawer. He takes out a bottle of peroxide a few cotton balls and then a small box. Removing the top, he hands it out to Pete, who hesitantly takes it into his hands and peers inside. There are multiple earrings in there, ranging from the classic diamond stud to some fake gauges. They look interesting, and he picks up the fake gauge that’s very colorful and had caught his eye first. It looked like blue and pink marble, and he gives Jimmy a curious look. The ginger just gives him a smirk, nodding his head as he shrugs his shoulders. 

“This one,” Pete finally tells Michael, who looks at him with delight. 

“Ah, those were one of my favorites!” he tells him as he gently takes the jewelry from him. He pours the peroxide into the cap, dropping the gauge and letting it soak. Rummaging around in the drawer a bit more, he pulls out a pair of black latex gloves, putting them on before taking a small piece of plastic and retrieving a needle. He leaves the room for a bit, telling them he wanted to make sure everything was sterilized and good to go before he did anything. And when he was out of sight, the worried look returns to Pete's face.

“I dunno about this, man,” he mumbles, staring down at his lap and closing his hands into tight fists. “What if I look stupid? What if something goes wrong and it gets infected? What would I do?”

“Then we’d figure it out,” Jimmy tells him calmly as he takes a seat on the bed next to him, “You’ll look fine, really. I’ll be honest, I was nervous when I got my earring.”

“You were?” He looks at his friend, a small feeling of hope growing inside him. Jimmy Hopkins was the toughest kid at school. To hear him say he was nervous had honestly made him feel that little bit better.

“Yeah. I’m not a huge fan of needles,” he confesses, “but it’s not too bad. Just a little pinch and you’re done. I’ll even help you take care of it.”

“Alright…” He goes through it all, playing out how it would be in his mind. How it would look, how people would react to it, especially how his parents would react to it. But then again, he wondered if he should care. Jimmy had an earring and no one said anything about it. Michael had four sets of piercings on his face alone, and truth be told, he looked a bit like a freak. But he walked around town with such confidence that it actually looked  good  on him. The delinquent had said he loved it; that it made him feel good to look different and do what he wanted. Maybe it was Pete’s turn? “Yeah, alright! Let’s do it!”

Jimmy gives him a proud smile, patting his back. When Michael returns to the room, his gloves still a bit damp, he’s surprised to see Pete looking excited. Of course, he matches his smile, walking over and picking up one of the cotton balls. He keeps the needle held firm between his fingers as he cleans Pete’s earlobe, telling him everything would be okay. Jimmy stays seated by his side, and as Michael lines up the needle to his ear, Pete grabs his friend’s hand, squeezing anxiously. Jimmy lets him. He knew he reacted the same way, though he never told anyone the extent of his nerves. He had held his breath and closed his eyes, hands curled into fists. At least he could be here to soothe the younger teen.

The hollowed needle goes through Pete’s earlobe and he lets out a wince, biting his bottom lip as Michael cooed at him that everything was okay and going according to plan. He grabs the earring from the peroxide cap, shaking off any excess liquid before sliding it through the hole of the needle. Pete’s soft whimpers continue as he feels the needle being dragged through his ear, exiting out the other end before Michael screwed the back on. He takes a step back, beaming with pure joy. 

“You look amazing!” he tells him. Slowly letting his hand slip out of Jimmy’s grasp, Pete stands up and walks over to the mirror, leaning close to look. It was certainly different, but he absolutely adored it. His lips curled into a wide smile.

“This is awesome!” he laughs, looking back at the two. Jimmy doesn’t seem as ecstatic, though he does seem happy for his friend. 

“It looks even better with that outfit,” Michael chuckles as he tosses the cotton ball, gloves, and needle into a nearby trashcan. “I’m proud of you, Pete! I never thought you had it in you!”

“Yeah, me neither,” Jimmy stands up, thanking Michael for his help. The delinquent seemed more than happy to help, telling them that if they ever needed any advice for caring for it or just wanted another piercing to come see him. Saying their goodbyes, the two leave the room, making their way down the hall and to Jimmy’s dorm. Walking inside, Jimmy gently pushes the door shut as Pete takes a seat on his bed, bringing his hand up to touch the earring. 

“Not how I thought the night would turn out,” Jimmy confesses as he takes a seat next to him. Pete just nods, but the smile on his face hasn’t disappeared.

“I’m actually glad,” he tells him softly, “I’ve been a dork my whole life. It feels good to do something different.”

“Always good to experiment,” He gives him a smile, admiring the new earring. He had to admit, it did look nice on him, and he was also proud that he was stepping out of his comfort zone and trying new things. “Maybe next time we’ll get you that tattoo.”

“Don’t push it, Jimmy,” They sit there for a moment in silence, staring at each other. Slowly, Pete leans toward the ginger, taking in his features. The constant angry and hostile expression, his squinted brown eyes, and how his freckles decorated his face. “You know, I’m honestly lucky to be your friend. I never really had any friends growing up…”

“Yeah, and it shows” he laughs, though he leans a bit forward him. He had never really considered it too much. How much he had taken Pete and his loyalty for granted. How no matter how bad things got, the younger teen was always there to support and help him, even when he had neglected him. 

Before Jimmy could close the gap between them, his door had been kicked open, making both of them jump back, their faces pink. Michael walked in, almost looking panicked as he held a bottle of solution, a small squirt bottle, and a miniature case.

“Oh, Pete! I forgot to give you these!” he says as he hands them out. Slowly taking the items, Pete looks them over. “Stuff to take care of your piercing. Make sure to clean them out daily. They’re gonna ooze for a while and you gotta keep it clean so it doesn’t get infected.”

“Yeah, thanks, Michael. Now get out!” Jimmy instructs, surprising the delinquent. With a small goofy smile, he waves as he exits the room, making sure to close the door behind him. Pete just chuckles as he sets the things down on Jimmy’s nightstand. Turning his attention back to the ginger, he’s surprised when he feels lips crashing onto his own. He sits there for a bit as his friend pulls back, a smirk on his face.

“Is this what you meant when you said it’s good to experiment?” he chuckles nervously, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

“Depends on if you like it,” he shoots back confidently, though the smirk only gets bigger when he sees Pete’s face turn red.

“Yeah… yeah, I did,” he confesses. Upon hearing that, Jimmy gently grabs his chin and presses a soft kiss to his lips again, this time giving the younger teen ample time to return it. No, this wasn’t how either of them thought the night would turn out. They had both figured they would stay at Derby’s party for the night, socializing and getting Pete comfortable around people. But this had been a much better outcome.

Chapter Text

There was something about the man she couldn’t describe. Maybe it was his confidence or how he spoke. Maybe it was how he carried himself, or how he seemed to appreciate her. Whatever it was, she didn’t care. She just knew that she admired and loved the man.

 A new student had recently arrived at Bullworth. A sophomore named Jimmy Hopkins, a terrible boy but she was sure a meeting with Dr. Crabblesnitch could fix that. She had run on autopilot as she led him to the office, hurrying as much as she could. Damn his parents for dropping him off so late. It was so close to tea time, and she absolutely hated being late with his tea. At least he was preoccupied with a student, so maybe he wouldn’t notice what time it was. 

 Hurrying to the break room, she gathers up the teapot and goes to fill it with water before heading for the cafeteria. Edna had nodded her head in her direction, and though the two weren’t exactly fond of each other, they managed to coexist without fighting. This was, however, because Dr. Crabblesnitch refused to have fighting in front of the students. If anyone wanted to fight, they had to do it behind closed doors and keep him out of it. Making sure to keep her distance, Miss Danvers works around the heavier woman, waiting almost impatiently as the water came to a boil. She hated being behind the counter. Everything was so  filthy , and the cook wasn’t any better. She was absolutely revolting, but considering she had agreed to work for cheap, she was sure Dr. Crabblesnitch wouldn’t find someone else to replace her. 

 Giving Edna a polite smile, Miss Danvers takes the teapot as it starts to whistle. Hurrying out of the cafeteria and back to the break room, she gets to tray ready and sets out two porcelain cups to one side, the small sugar jar to the other. Picking it up, she quickly walks back to the office, just in time to hear her beloved’s sharp voice.

“Miss Danvers, are you back yet?” he calls, and she fights away the blush trying to creep its way onto her face.

“Yes, headmaster!” she responds, slowly walking through the opened double doors. “And I got your tea.”

“You are good to me, Miss Danvers,” he praises. Lord, if only she could hear more of his compliments. She absolutely lived for them.

“No more than you deserve, headmaster,” she purrs as she sets the tray down, careful to not have anything spill or break. 

“Take our new friend, Hopkins, and show him around the school,” he instructs as she stands back up, smiling at him. “And get him properly attired.”

“Certainly, headmaster!” Her voice changes from cheerful to dull as she gestures her hand to the teen, turning towards the door. “Come along, boy. I haven’t got all day.”

 They make their way out of the office, Dr. Crabblesnitch reminding Jimmy to keep his nose clean, or there would be consequences. Leading him out of the office, she decides to go about this the smartest way she could. Opening the top drawer to her desk, she pulls out a small map, handing it over to the teen who took it with a curious look.

“That’s the layout of the school,” she explains as he opens it up. She points to each part, telling him what building was what. The library, auto shop, gym, football field, and so on. There wasn’t much, and it would all be self-explanatory as he got out into campus and walked around for himself. She couldn’t be bothered with some naughty boy when she had a man to please. Telling him that his uniform would be waiting in his new dorm room, she shoos the teen away and goes to take a seat down behind her desk. Jimmy scoffs as he walks away, and she couldn’t be happier to be rid of the child. Just as she goes to pick up her pen, she’s stopped by the man’s voice.

“Miss Danvers? Are you still here?” he calls, and she practically jumps out of her seat. She tries to steady her cheery walking as she approaches the door, giving him a smile as she peers inside.

“Yes, headmaster?” she coos as she takes a step forward, hands folded in front of her as she looks at the man. He matches her smile, lifting up his hand to gesture to the seat in front of him.

“How do you do, Lori?” he starts calmly, watching her slowly sit down. She seems surprised as he uses her first name, but it made it her melt. 

“Very well, headmaster,” she responds, only to make him chuckle. 

“Oh, no need to be so formal when it’s just us!” he tells her, and the smile only gets bigger. This was a dream come true. She absolutely loved the man and loved his ideas and how he ran the academy. “Now, do you happen to be free for today?”

“Of course!” Of course, anything she had planned was tossed out the window as the man asked. How could she ever turn him down? And when he hears that her schedule is open, he matches the smile on her face.

“Wonderful! Then would you like to accompany me to Shin Jo this evening?” This was one dream she never wanted to wake up from. A date with Ralph Crabblesnitch? Oh, she was in heavy, becoming absolutely giddy. “I figured we could talk, get something to eat, and get to know each other more.”

“I would love to, Ralph!” she giggles. With a smile, they agree to meet around 6 o’clock that evening at the restaurant, and she couldn’t wait. She had dreamt of this day for so long and had fantasized about it even more. Of course, it wasn’t exactly like her fantasies, but the fact that it actually happened made it all just that much better. She was a blushing and smiling mess as she sat back behind her desk. She would have enough time to go home and get changed, put on some makeup and perfume. Oh, what would she wear? She wanted to look perfect for the man. All of the outfits and dresses she owned started coming to mind, thinking of what jewelry and heels to pair with each one that came to mind. 

 The day seemed to drag on, not that she was too surprised. Every troubled student that came in, either because of breaking the rules or having problems, she felt herself growing more and more irritated. All she wanted was for the day to end, and every time someone walked in, she tried to tune out their issues or give them a quick solution to their problems. Of course, the ones that came in for their detention were sent to Dr. Crabblesnitch, and she always caught that warm smile he sent her. It was the only thing that kept her going throughout the day, and when the last bell rang to signal that school was over, she felt her heart start to race. Tossing the work aside she could save for tomorrow, she stands up from her chair and leaves the office. She knew Dr. Crabblesnitch would stay behind for a bit longer, dealing with any more students that had needed to see him. 

 She made her way home, tossing her things by the door and making her way to her closet. Throwing open the door, she takes a step inside, looking around and frowning at everything. She had picked out a few outfits she thought would be nice, tossing them onto her bed. She had tried each one on, though she turned her nose up at everyone. She hated how they looked on her, and she hated how they fit. Time was drawing near, however, and she knew she didn’t have much time. The last outfit she had grabbed was nice enough. A light blue business dress with black edges. It had been one of her favorites, and she didn’t have time to think about how it now looked terrible on her. She made her way into the bathroom, picking up her cherry-colored lipstick and applying it to her lips. She just had to touch up parts of her makeup, applying just a bit more blush to her cheeks. She sprays a decent amount of perfume on, loving the smell. She wondered if Dr. Crabblesnitch would like it too, or if he would’ve preferred something else. 

 It’s almost 5:30 when she throws on her heels and a black coat, fixing the watch on her right wrist as she exits her house, locking the front door behind her. She got in her car, and she can’t get rid of the smile on her face. She was so excited, and who wouldn’t be? The man she had admired and loved for years had asked her to go on a date with him! She kept replaying the memory over and over in her head, how he had asked if she would meet him at Shin Jo and how he had said he wanted to get to know her more. 

The lights are brightly lit as she parks her car, and she sends Dr. Crabblesnitch a warm smile. He’s dressed in a nice suit that’s practically devoid of any wrinkles or flaws. He looked magnificent.

“Hello, Ralph!” she greets, and the man takes her hand, bringing it to his lips to place a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“Good evening, Lori,” he responds, looking her over. “You look absolutely lovely!”

“As do you,” He sticks out his arm, and with a soft giggle, she takes it in her own. They walk inside, and he asks for a table for two. She had never really been inside, but it was really cute. Japanese style and it seemed incredibly clean. The waiter leads them over to their table, setting down a couple menus and giving them a friendly smile, telling them he would return in a bit to take their orders. Setting her purse down, Miss Phillips takes a seat across from Dr. Crabblesnitch, giving him a pleasant smile.

“This is a wonderful place,” she comments, and he nods as he opens his menu.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you to join for quite some time,” he confesses with a small grin of his own. “I just know we’re both so busy, with the academy and life outside of it.”

“I love our time together,” This makes his grin widen, and as the waiter comes back, they’re ready to order. They had ordered their drinks, and both got udon with yakitori and kashipan. They sat there, chatting softly about how the academy was doing at first. Dr. Crabblesnitch had shaken his head as they spoke about their new student, and he seemed to grow more irritated when they spoke about the students who rarely showed up. Miss Danvers confessed to having forgotten most of their names, and that she would often times forget they were even enrolled. Having them show up to the office, either looking for some sort of help or having gotten in trouble, she normally thought they were there to enroll. It always ended with her frustrated and the teen getting snappy. 

 As their dinner came out and they ate, they moved away from school and started to talk about more personal life. Their hobbies and what they liked to do. Surprisingly, they had a lot in common. The music they listened to, the shows they watched. They must’ve spent a good half hour talking about the recent series they were watching, some romance show where a woman was trying to find the “perfect” boyfriend. They laughed as they talked about who they wanted to leave, and which one of the men they had liked. And as they slowly finished eating, Dr. Crabblesnitch paid and left the tip. He had stood first, offering his hand out to the woman before him. She just giggles softly as she collects her coat and purse, throwing them over her arm before taking his hand in her own and accepting his help. She followed him out of the restaurant, and instead of being walked back to her car like she had previously thought would happen, she found herself being led down to the dock by the beach. It was a gorgeous night, the stars shining brightly overhead. If only that darned lighthouse would turn off its light once in a while. 

“I do really appreciate you coming out tonight, Lori,” Dr. Crabblesnitch finally says, giving her a small smile as they sit on the bench.

“I could never turn you down, Ralph,” she giggles softly, “That would be such a foolish thing to do!”

“You are good to me,” He moves his arm so it’s wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his side. 

“No more than you deserve,” she responds as she rests her head on his shoulder. She can just barely feel the man lean down to press his lips against her head, and that same giddy feeling overcomes her. This was all she could’ve asked for, and then some. They stayed like that for a bit, looking out at the scenery before them, Miss Danvers occasionally tilting her head up to stare at the stars. 

“Shooting star,” she points out, sending the man a smile his way. “Make a wish.”

“My dear, it’s already come true,” he coos, and this makes her giggle, as well as turn her face red. With a gentle kiss on her lips, he finally decides to end their date. Standing from the bench, they walk towards where she had parked her car, both walking with their fingers laced together. She almost feels like it all ended too soon. She loved the time they got to spend together, but as they near her vehicle, the man promises her that they would be doing this again very soon. With one last peck on the lips and a soft goodnight, he watches her get into her car and start it up. One wave goodbye and she’s off, leaving him standing there with a pleased smile on his face. For years he had loved the woman, and only now did he build up the confidence to make it known. He was just grateful she had returned his feelings.

Chapter Text

For years they had worked together, and for years he had admired her beauty and charm. The scent of her perfume mixed with her cigarette smoke, and how kind she was to the children and to him. Oftentimes, Galloway would sit in his classroom, completely lost in thought of the woman. Everything about her fascinated him, and one of his most prized possessions (unbeknownst to anyone in Bullworth) was a small painting she had gifted him. It was an orange cat with a red bow, sitting on a desk with big blue eyes popping through. She was excited when he had so carefully unwrapped the belated birthday gift, going on about how she had gotten a book on pop art and just had to try it out. 

Galloway always wondered what to get the woman, but was worried she would catch on to his feelings for her and treat him differently. Every year on Valentine’s Day, he would place a box of chocolates on her desk with a bouquet of roses, but he never told her. Time and time again, she would ask everyone in the break room “Did you happen to leave me anything on my desk?” or “Were you the sweetheart to give me something today?”, only to be met with a declining answer. And time and time again did he also tell her no, avoiding her gaze and feeling his face heat up. He hated himself for it. It made him feel pathetic, acting like a child. They weren’t in elementary, he would tell himself, but he could never find the courage to admit how he felt to her. 

He wasn’t a religious man, but Galloway often found himself asking someone,  anyone , to just let the woman acknowledge him as he did her. He tried to increase how many times they would bump into each other. Coincidentally taking his breaks the same time she did, “accidentally” bumping into her in the break room, gaining the courage to speak up and compliment her when he could. Sometimes his nerves would get the better of him and he wouldn’t be able to get anything out other than a small squeak and hand wave. He hated himself for it, but when he was on his drunken rampages, he always imagined himself going up to the woman, bouquet in hand, and asking her to accompany him on a date. But it never came to light. 

Coming close to Autumn and things were looking up for Galloway. Thanks to the help of Jimmy Hopkins and the lovely Ms. Philips, Mr. Hattrick was fired for his scandals. Unfortunately, Dr. Crabblesnitch allowed the math teacher to finish out the rest of the school year, however, he had to keep his distance from Galloway and he wasn’t allowed to come to the principal with any allegations, especially without proof. Of course, the man still gave Galloway the side eye every time they crossed paths, but it was a step in the right direction. 

 The talking increased after that. Ms. Philips would often greet him and start conversations during their break or lunch, even attempting to talk to him about some books she had read or was reading. Of course, she didn’t exactly know any of the books Galloway read, not even 1984 or To Kill a Mockingbird. Seeing his opening, he shakily offers to find her a copy and to read it with her. As sweet as she was to agree, he knew she didn’t care. But it still made him smile to hear her agree to a reading session, and that beautiful smile of hers made him melt. However, the next proposition she made surprised him. 

“How about I read with you if you agree to a couple things with me?” she asks him, “A movie and then we can teach you how to paint back at my place?”

“I…” Galloway catches himself, the excitement overwhelming him. He can feel his body going numb as his heart speeds up. “That sounds lovely, Ms. Phillips.”

“Oh, you don’t need to be so formal, Lionel!” she giggles, reaching out to gently slap his arm. “How about we start tonight? Sort of like a date?”

“A-a date…” he repeats, almost dumbfounded. Deidre Phillips, arguably one of the most beautiful women in Bullworth, was asking  him  on a date. Be still his beating heart, he felt like he could faint. “Yes! Yes, that sounds lovely!”

“Great! Let’s shoot for around five o’clock?” Galloway can only nod as the woman leaves the break room, giving him a wink. He lingers in the room for a bit longer, leaning against the desk with his “special” cup of tea right next to him. His body tingles and he can’t wipe the smile off of his face. For years he dreamed of asking the art teacher on a date, and here she was, asking  him . He wonders, for a moment, if this was some sick prank. He knew he wasn’t the best looking, and he cursed his heavy drinking. He looked older than 34, his face gaunt and his nose redder than Rudolph. He wondered what the woman saw in him, but even with the horrible, paranoid thoughts he was having, he couldn’t get rid of the excited feeling. One more class, he reminds himself. One more class and he could go get ready to spend time with his beloved. 

 He’s on autopilot as he greets his class, giving them their worksheet. Too excited to fully contain himself, he instructs the students to read through the next chapter of the story they’re reading, and he writes out the questions he wanted them to answer on the chalkboard. Thank goodness he had written them out the previous night or the students would’ve been doing nothing today… which most of them did nothing anyway, but he would’ve felt worse had he not been ready. And as he sits at his desk, he makes himself a small list. He wanted to get Ms. Phillips some things before their date tonight, and he was also checking his bank account to make sure he could spoil her. He was thinking of getting a large popcorn for them to share, and then of course some soda. But any surprises for her, he was at a loss for. He was so giddy and caught up in his thoughts about the woman that when the bell rang for the end of the day, he jumped in his seat. Most of his class was already gone, a pile of messy papers on the side of the desk, closest to the door. He’s surprised, to say the least, but a smile slowly crept across his face. His students actually did their work, and looking up at the last student in the room was a face the faculty members would often forget. For Galloway, however, he remembered the teen. 

“Scott!” he greets happily, raising his hands, “What a surprise! I didn’t even notice you during attendance!”

“I… came in late,” he tells him softly. Scott Young was one of the few students he actually felt bad for. A delinquent caught up in the wrong crowd. It reminded Galloway of himself in his younger years. “I was wondering what’s up with you? You seem… out of it. More than normal.”

“Oh! You noticed,” Galloway chuckles, a bit nervously, “It’s been hard to contain myself, but Ms. Phillips asked  me  on a date! Tonight at five o’clock! Can you believe it?  Me  of all people!”

“I think she’s admired you for a long time,” he admits with a smile, “Where are you guys going?”

“Just to see a movie, and then I think she said something about painting afterward?” He waves his hand, almost dismissively. “I was so excited, I couldn’t fully pay attention!”

“Oh! I hope you guys have fun!” Scott seems excited for the man, and it only makes Galloway feel even better. “What movie are you guys seeing? I heard that Creepy Watchers was good.”

“She didn’t say, but I’ll keep that in mind,” As Scott goes to walk away, the man stops him, a sheepish smile adorning his face. “Actually, if you don’t mind me asking, ah… you wouldn’t happen to have any ideas for gifts, would you? I want to surprise Deid- I mean, Ms. Phillips?”

“A gift?” The teen seems surprised, but he does give it a bit of thought. “Hmm… maybe just some chocolates and flowers? Seems to be the most common things people get.”

“Of course! You’re right!” He laughs as he claps his hands together. “You’re amazing, Scotty! Truly amazing!”

“Do you want me to pick them up for you?” he asks, glancing at the clock. Galloway turns to look at it himself, letting out a shout of panic. It was almost 4:30 and he still had to make himself look halfway decent. Jumping up from his chair and tossing the papers into his desk, he gives the teen an apologetic look. 

“Would you mind?” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet, along with some money. “Here! Take this and get the best they have! You can keep the change, too. Think of it as payment for helping me!”

“You got it, Mr. Galloway,” Scott gives him a smile as he starts for the door. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot by your car!”

 Watching the teen run off, Galloway follows him out the door after hastily locking the drawer that held his empty liquor bottles and running out the door, locking that up as well. He rushed to the bathroom, handkerchief in hand as he turned the water on to splash his face and clean up a bit. He wished the red would leave his nose, and he wishes his face wasn’t so wrinkled and sad looking. With a soft sigh, he puts his handkerchief away and reaches up to straighten his tie, dusting off any small lint pieces lingering on his suit as he tries his best to make it look as smooth as possible. Wishing himself luck, he exists the bathroom, checking his watch, and making his way towards the art room. Seeing Jimmy Hopkins waiting outside, however, is a sight he can’t say he was expecting to see. He was a bit embarrassed at first, but he couldn’t contain his excitement. Almost stumbling over his words, he tells the student about tonight’s event, only to have him tell him he was wrong. Galloway stood there, dumbfounded. No, that couldn’t be right. He heard Ms. Phillips earlier today, hadn’t he? 

 It doesn’t take long for the woman in question to exit her classroom, hair piled high into a bun as she smiled at both of them. The red dress she wore clung to her body, and the sweet smell of her perfume intoxicated him. After telling Galloway how helpful Jimmy had been, and pinching his cheek, the man realized what had happened. Of course, it made him smile. It reminded him of his younger years; a simple misunderstanding and quite an embarrassing moment. But, he gives the teen a cheerful farewell, a smile on his face as he walks down the hall with Ms. Phillips, holding her hand. She explains more in detail what Jimmy had done. From picking up her beautiful dress to going to get the perfume she wore. He understood now why Jimmy had mistaken her request for help.

 Getting to the parking lot and his car, Galloway stares down at the driver’s seat. Placed neatly inside was the bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. He was honestly expecting Scott to just meet him in the parking, not break into his car and put them there. However, as he unlocked the car and opened the door, he was relieved to see nothing was broken and everything was still in its place.

“Oh, Lionel!” Ms. Phillips’ voice catches his attention, and he notices her surprised look and delighted smile. “Are those for me?”

“Oh, of course!” He pulls out the items and hands them over, a sheepish smile on his face. She hastily grabs the bouquet, bringing them to her nose and inhaling deeply. Becoming giddy, she steps forward and places a quick kiss on his cheek, making him blush deeply. With a soft chuckle, he ushers her into the car and sits inside himself. Starting it up and taking off, Galloway listens to the woman excitedly talk about the theater, saying it’s been so long since she’s better there and how it’s been even longer since she’s been with such a handsome man. He figures she’s just saying it to make him feel good, but it still makes him smile. 

There aren’t many people in line for the theater. After finding a spot to park his car, Ms. Phillips had Galloway tuck the box of chocolates away in his inner coat pockets, leaving the bouquet on the passenger side seat. With their arms linked together, they stroll up to the window, both smiling at the young teen. Galloway was pleasantly surprised. The boy was a student of his – a very bright and loving person. The odd one out, he often felt. A member of those dreaded delinquents, but one of the few who actually showed up.

“Wyatt!” he greets cheerfully, “I was getting worried! I hadn’t seen you for a couple weeks!”

“Hey, Mr. Galloway!” He straightens up fully now, smiling at them both. “Sorry. My mom and I had to run home to Nevada for a bit to take care of my grandmother. She’s doing better now, though!”

“That’s delightful to hear!” Ms. Phillips studies the boy, though she does keep a smile on her face.

“I don’t think I recognize you,” she comments, “What year are you?”

“Ah, sophomore,” He becomes bashful, rubbing the back of his neck as he stares down to avoid her gaze. “I’m not… I’m useless at art. I’ve always been more into stories and writing.”

“Then you’re not useless at art!” she giggles, “Poetry and stories are one of the many forms of it!”

“Thank you, Ms. Phillips,” Maintaining the smile, Wyatt gets their tickets, softly telling them that he could get them discounts on the prices. Galloway knew, for a fact, that they didn’t deserve any sort of discounts. The only ones who got any sort of money taken off were the workers. But, he knew the teen had a habit of this. Nonetheless, both thanked him greatly and made their way inside. A quick trip to the concession stand, Galloway gets them both medium-sized drinks and a large popcorn, with extra butter as requested by his beloved. Apparently, she absolutely loved pairing salty snacks with chocolates. She told him how she absolutely adored the contrast and that it enhanced the flavor of the salty food. He just laughed. He never tried it himself, but if that’s what he liked, then he was more than happy he had Scott pick up the chocolates. 

 The seats were as comfy as they could be as they chose their spots. Wyatt had talked them into Creepy Watchers, saying it was one of the best horror movies he had seen and that it had better feedback than the other movies. Galloway wasn’t one for horror movies, truth be told. He often tried to avoid them, seeing as he would be paranoid and get nightmares for weeks after seeing one. But when Ms. Phillips got that excited look in her eye, how could he say no? He figured the paranoia and nightmares would be worth it to make her happy, especially if she ended up getting scared and hiding in his chest. 

 After finishing the previews and getting to the beginning of the movie, their popcorn was already halfway gone. The two were giggling softly like children. Convincing him to try out the chocolate/popcorn mix, Galloway found himself getting an understanding of what she was talking about. It almost made the popcorn taste different in its own way, but he had to admit, it was good. Of course, Ms. Phillips was there to tell him she had told him so as she took another piece of chocolate. 

 The movie was cliche in the beginning. A happy couple moving out into the middle of the forest to get away from city life. In a way, it was a nice thought. Get away from the hustle and bustle that the city brought, go someplace quiet. However, this movie was his exact reason as to why he never wanted to go move into the woods for the quiet life. Another couple lived out there, crazy this time. It was implied early on they were cannibals, and after they heard of the new couple moving into the old house, they played the perfect neighbors. Starting out, it was nice. Baked goods and inviting them over to dinner, but after a little bit, they start acting weird. Stuttered answers, odd behavior, and the husband would often around their property, rifle in hand as he gave the excuse that he was chasing off some wolf. Of course, it all freaked Galloway out. The fact that this could happen, and potentially to him, didn’t sit right. And when the loud noise happened when the wife decided to break into their basement, the man jumped in his seat. Ms. Phillips, giggling softly, reached over to hold onto his arm and rest her head on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Gally-bear,” she coos, “I’m right here to protect you.”

“Ah, thank you, Deidre,” He can’t control himself, the heat rising to his cheeks at the woman’s gesture. He tries to focus on the movie, though not too much. He was constantly reminded of where Ms. Phillips was, especially when she would occasionally make a soft comment about something the characters in the movie were doing. He does have to admit, having her holding onto him did bring comfort. 

As the night went on and the movie slowly finished up – in the most “heartwarming” way as well where the couple survives and moved away – Ms. Phillips thanks him for bringing her to see the movie. Truth be told, she had been wanting to see the movie for a while, but she hated going to the theater alone. It made him smile knowing he was the one she had wanted to go with. Leading her back to the car, he figures it’s time to end their date, though he’s not too excited to. This was honestly the most fun he had had in a while. 

Though all good things had to come to an end, he accepted that as he drove Ms. Phillips back home. The ride was filled with chatter, the woman talking about the movie and laughing at some points. He tried not to remember most of it, positive that once he got home, every little sound was going to be making him jump and panic. But to see that smile on her face, and hear the laughter in her voice, it was worth it.

 Pulling up to her house, Galloway makes his way out of the car, moving to open the door for her. She giggles as she thanks him, taking his hand in hers and stepping out, the bouquet of flowers being held in her free hand. He walks her up to the door, smiling down at her. She looked so beautiful in the moonlight.

“Thank you for tonight, Lionel,” she says softly, and he just nods.

“Of course! Thank  you  for asking me out,” They give each other a small chuckle, and when Ms. Phillips leans over to plant a soft kiss on his cheek, he feels his entire face go red. She tells him goodnight, walking into the house and telling him that she would see him at school the next day, and he can just muster a small wave. When the door is closed and he hears it lock, he lets a wide grin break out across his face. Ms. Phillips had kissed him.  Him  of all people. He couldn’t contain his joy, walking back to his car feeling giddy. This had been the best night ever, and he planned on asking her out next time. Oh, he had some planning to do now. 

Chapter Text

How dare he say no?! A simple, small request, and that man had the gall to deny him! Oh, the nerve. He couldn’t believe it. All the money daddy has, and he couldn’t let him add  one simple room  to the Harrington House on account of “it’s been that way for years”. The man hadn’t wanted to change it because he had wanted to keep it the way it was intended. Foolish. Didn’t he know things needed to change over time in order to keep up with the latest fashion and trends? He supposed a room with an indoor pool and TV mounted on the wall was just “too much”. Oh, but he couldn’t let this slide. Was his father expecting him to use the school’s pool? Where all the lowlife  scum  would swim? Did his father expect him to go out at night and swim in the ocean, where God knows what lurked beneath the water’s surface? 

He was fuming as he paced around in front of the fireplace. He had the whole room planned out too. The finest of marble would cover the floor and pillars. He wanted the pool to be deep enough for him to dive into, and he wanted a decently tall ladder to climb up with a diving board at the top. Expensive art was to be hung around the walls, a gorgeous chandelier hanging from the ceiling that was primarily made of glass. Oh, he absolutely  dreamed  of stargazing as he floated on his back, the pool lights being the only thing that illuminated the room in the dark. And when he would get bored of that? He would simply turn on the TV and watch a movie or two. Honestly, how could daddy deny him that? His only son. They were the wealthiest family in Bullworth and he couldn’t have one little room? 

The sound of the door opening caught his attention, and his glare had turned towards the Bif. The boxer was still in his fighting uniform, a towel wrapped around his neck as his skin still glistened from the sweat of his exhausting workout. 

“Can you  believe  what daddy just told me, Bif?” Derby starts, intending to rant and rave about the conversation until he was bluer than his blood. “He said I’m not allowed to add an indoor pool to the Harrington House! Me! He said no to  me ! Can you believe the nerve?”

“An indoor pool?” he repeats, tilting his head. Was that the little surprise his leader had been squealing about this past week? He never told any of the preps what he had in mind, just that he was sure his father would do it and it would be amazing. He would tell them how the man couldn’t say no, that they had more than enough money to cover it and everything.

“Yes, an indoor pool! Did I stutter?” he snaps, stomping his foot almost like a child. “Oh, Bif, it was going to be so beautiful! I had it all mapped out, too.”

“Why didn’t he want to add it?” he questions. He knew the Harrington’s had money. Derby made it point to flaunt his money whenever he got the chance, and would even bring it up randomly. Truth be told, he had always been a little jealous. 

“Because it was “ruining the originality” or something like that,” he grumbles, waving a hand dismissively. “Honestly, can you believe it? Well, I don’t intend to take this lying down! Daddy can’t keep saying no forever! After all, a Harrington never loses.”

“And what’s your plan?” He walks towards one of the chairs, taking a seat with a soft sigh. The older teen always was melodramatic, a trait he often found tiring. “Do you intend on blackmailing your father? Ruining his image until he caves?”

“… Yes! Yes, you’ve done it!” Derby cries, and he’s taken by surprise. Done what, exactly? “I never knew you had it in you, you filthy democrat! Oh, there is hope for you yet!”

“Derby, what exactly are you getting at?” he questions. With a proud stance, the blonde holds out his arms, almost showing himself off.

“I, Derby Harrington, am now in a relationship with Bif Taylor until daddy gives me what I want!” he announces, and Bif nearly chokes on his spit. Relationship? Since when did he agree to this? Had his friend finally just lost his mind? “Oh, could you imagine the look on daddy’s face? He would be more upset than the time he caught me with nanny! Oh, and the  presses . They would be hounding him day and night! Oh, Bif, join me for dinner! We can start this plan tonight!”

“This is ridiculous!” he cries, standing up with his brows furrowed. “I will not be played a fool for your benefit!”

“A fool? Bif, my less fortunate friend, I’m doing this for the prep’s sake as well!” he tells him, almost sounding offended. 

“Deal with it!” he shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not helping you! What would everyone else think of me?”

“… This is unfair,” Derby whimpers, and for a moment, it sounds like he’s about to start crying. “This doesn’t happen to the Harringtons… The world just doesn't work like that! It's supposed to fall into place for me – always has! I don't understand it!”

A small part of Bif feels bad now. He had wondered how much that room meant to him, considering he was gushing over it for a week straight and telling them how excited he was. He had wanted to keep it a surprise, telling everyone in the clique that would be amazing and they could spend the hot summer days there when the sun was too unbearable to go outside. He sighs softly. He knew he was going to regret this. He knew he would hate himself, but if it got Derby to shut his mouth and stop the crocodile tears then…

“This is gonna end so badly,” he mumbles, before nodding his head, arms falling to his side. “Fine. I’ll do it. But it better work!”

“Of course, it will, my dear boy!” Derby seems to recover so quickly from his depressed state, a bright smile on his face. “Come now, we have a dinner to attend to!”

He sighs as he makes his way out of the Harrington House. What had he gotten himself into? What would people think and say? What would the ladies think? Maybe he should’ve held his ground. Maybe he should’ve been more adamant about saying no. Oh well. He couldn’t change it now. If he backed out, he knew there would be hell to pay, and with how exhausted he was, he didn’t feel like it.

 Making a quick stop at the dorm room, he picks out the outfit he’s going to wear. Derby instructs him to look nice. “Make a good impression” he had said. Bif just rolled his eyes. He had met his parents before. They often came to support him during his boxing matches. And as he steps out of the quick shower he took to freshen himself up, he styles his hair into place and blows it dry. The thought of dinner at Derby’s house, especially going as his  boyfriend , had made his stomach feel weird. He wasn’t even sure he could properly eat. How would the Harringtons react? How would his  own  parents react? The thoughts only made him groan. 

“You can do this, Bif,” he sighs as he looks at himself in the mirror. “They already love you. It’ll be fine.”

 With a confident inhale, he returns to his room to get ready. He decides to keep it decently casual. Just a white shirt buttoned up with an Aquaberry tie and some black slacks. He threads his belt through the loops before pulling on his shoes. He looks at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair. Did he really look good? Should he change? Did he look like he was trying too hard? Derby did say to make a good impression, but was this too much?

 A knock on his door brings him out of his thoughts. Derby pushes his way in, almost looking impatient. He’s also sporting a white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows with his Aquaberry sweater tied loosely around his shoulders. He looks him up and down, smiling pleasantly.

“My, my! You sure do clean up nicely!” he comments, “Is that the tie I picked out for you?”

“I thought it looked nice,” Truth be told, he had forgotten Derby was the one who had convinced him to buy it. The memory had come back to him. They had taken the day off from school to go on a shopping spree to celebrate Bif’s win. The victory didn’t come as a surprise, but Derby had been looking for an excuse to go shopping anyway, and what better way than to say it was a celebratory shopping spree?

“It does indeed,” Derby chuckles softly before holding his arm out to him. “Shall we get going?”

With a small smile, Bif links his arm with his and they exit the room. The blonde made it clear he wanted their relationship to look convincing, that way if word spread around, it would get back to his father quickly, and to the journalists just as quick. When asked about their reputation, Derby seemed to pay it no mind. 

“I don’t let words from people beneath me bother me,” he had told him, almost bitterly. He supposed it was a good rule to go by. He knew people would always run their mouths and gossip about anything.

On the way to Derby’s home, he goes over the whole story. How they had been spending more and more time together, finally realizing they had feelings for each other and deciding to act on them. A modern-day romance, and a cliché one at that. But Bif didn’t have a better suggestion. He just wanted to get this dinner over with so he could go hide himself away in the gym and take out his frustration with Derby on a punching bag. Maybe he would tape a picture of the blonde to it as well for added effect. 

 Their nanny opens the door, and the warm smile on her face doesn’t stay long when she notices the teen standing in front of the door with their arms locked together. They both give her an innocent smile, greeting her like it was just another day. She moves aside to let them in, telling them dinner would be ready very soon and to have a seat at the table. However, she couldn’t pry her eyes off of the boys. She had known they were close, but she didn’t know it was to this degree. Had she just been blind to it? Had they given her signs?

Derby’s parents are sitting at the dining table, and the same confused looks are on their faces as they notice how closely their son is walking with Bif. 

“Mommy, daddy! You both don’t mind if Bif joins us, do you?” Derby asks with a cheerful voice. He looks at his father, the man’s face stone cold as he eyes the boxer. What could possibly be going on in his head?

“Oh! O-of course not, dear!” Mrs. Harrington sends Bif a welcoming smile as she gestures toward an empty seat. “You’re always welcome here, Biffy.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” He slowly lowers himself into the plush chair, trying his hardest to avoid the man’s gaze. Derby sits next to him, and though they’re no longer linked together by their arms, the blonde makes it a point to reach over and gently grab Bif’s hand. The intense gaze from his parents made him uncomfortable, but he was here now. He knew Derby wouldn’t let him leave. 

“You seem pretty friendly together,” Mr. Harrington scoffs, bringing his whiskey to his lips and taking a sip. “Just what in God’s name is going on?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Derby practically giggles. His father just glares at him. “Bif and I decided to start dating. He’s just been so incredible, I decided-”

“And what about Pinky?” he snaps, clenching his jaw. “You decided to drop her for some  democrat ?”

 So that’s where Derby got it from… how charming. The argument progresses, though both Mrs. Harrington and Bif stay out of it. Derby goes on to tell his father how Pink had dumped him for Jimmy Hopkins, the new student at their school, and in Derby’s words, an ill-bred moron. His father was practically seething, telling him he forbid this. The more the man tore Bif down, the worse he felt. He called him every name in the book, and each insult made his heart heavy with grief. Was all of that true?

“First you don’t want to add one little room in the Harrington House,” Derby starts with such attitude in his voice, “and now you’re going to tell me who I can and can’t  love ?!”

“You don’t  love  him,” he snarls, slamming his fist against the table and making Bif jump. “You don’t even know what love is! You’re just trying to ruin this family because you can’t have your way!”

“Love is pretty easy to distinguish from lust, sir,” Bif grumbles. He had figured the man would’ve been too focused on his son to hear him, but he was wrong.

“What did you say to me, maggot?” he asks, turning his hateful gaze towards him. For the first time, Bif holds his stare, staring into those brown eyes that were lit with a wild fury. He couldn’t back down. No, he wouldn’t let anyone bully him again.

“You heard me!” he snaps, his grip on Derby’s hand tightening. The blonde can only look at him, surprised. “It’s easy to tell whether or not you love someone, and the bond Derby and I have is far greater than some petty desire! And judging by your third wife, I wouldn’t suppose you know what love is yourself.” He turns his attention to Mrs. Harrington, an apologetic smile on his face. “No offense, ma’am.”

“I want you out!” Mr. Harrington bellows, standing up from his chair and leaning against the dinner table as he towered over the two teens. “You both  disgust  me, and I can’t bear to look at you any longer!”

“Very well,” Derby stands up as well with a huff, pulling his friend up along with him. “Come along, Bif. If that’s how daddy wants to act, then so be it.”

Turning his nose up, he leads him out of the house. As they get closer to the door, Bif can just barely make out Mrs. Harrington’s soft voice telling her husband that he had been too harsh with Derby and needed to apologize. This, of course, was responded with more harsh words, but they were out by the time he could hear more of the conversation. With a laugh, Derby leads him down the cement stairs, letting go of his hand.

“Oh, you really make it seem convincing, Bif!” he says, a wide smile on his face. “Let daddy calm down, and I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to listen to me.”

“I think I got a bit too into character back there,” he chuckles softly as he rubs the back of his neck. He hadn’t meant to step out of line like that, he had just snapped. 

“It was nice having someone stand up for me for once,” he tells him. Normally when he and his father argued, his mother and nanny stayed out of it for the sake of their well-being. They often left him to fend for himself, staying out of the argument and turning a blind eye to everything. To have Bif stand up for him… he felt grateful.

 They make their way back to the dorm, saying goodnight to one another and splitting off into their separate rooms. Bif sighs as he undresses and gets ready for bed. Between the workout today, Derby’s temper tantrum, and the failed dinner, he was mentally and physically exhausted. They didn’t spend long at the Harrington house either. He hadn’t expected an argument to break out. He figured he would get some weird looks and a lot of questions, but to have it escalate to that? He knew Mr. Harrington was an unpleasant man, but that took the cake. With a sigh, he lays down in bed, hands behind his head. Maybe tomorrow wouldn’t be as bad.

 For the next couple weeks, Bif and Derby keep up their fake relationship. They don’t do too much, mainly just hang around each other a bit more. Though he hated to admit it, Bif found himself actually enjoying Derby’s company just a bit more. They got along, and he noticed the insults and backhanded compliments had become less and less. However, he noticed something peculiar. Construction men have been coming onto the Harrington House, conversing with Derby about something. Finally, he had decided to ask him about it. 

“So, what’s with those workers?” Bif asks as they sit in the beach house. He just has a pleased smile on his face.

“Oh, daddy finally agreed to build the indoor pool,” he tells him, sounding almost giddy. He stares at the blonde. Mr. Harrington finally agreed? 

“Then why are we still pretending to be in a relationship?” he asks, dumbfounded. Derby just shrugs as he sips the drink in his hand.

“I actually quite like your company,” he responds softly. To be honest, after the insults died down and he stopped acting so high and mighty, Bif did also get used to being around him so much. 

“So… did you just want to keep going?” he presses, and Derby just gives him a nod. 

“My right-hand man, and my lover,” he chuckles, “Oh, it’s such the perfect combination! Maybe we should’ve done this sooner?”

Bif just shakes his head with a small smile. He was actually dating Derby Harrington, the richest and snobbiest boy in Bullworth. Dramatic change of events, but thinking back to how they’ve been the past couple of weeks, he didn’t mind. Maybe he should thank Mr. Harrington for saying no to his son.

Chapter Text

 It had been a few weeks since Parker had found those notes, and he was more than pleasantly surprised when he found new ones appear in his locker. He made sure to go check every day, becoming excited whenever he saw a new folded-up piece of paper sitting at the bottom. He must’ve read through them hundreds of times, squealing about as much as Pinky would whenever she got new clothes. He read them out loud to Jeff, asked the garden gnome his opinion, and would squeal about what the letters would say. Most of them complimented how he carried himself and how “cute” he was, with some of them seeming almost anxious to finally show themselves. He didn’t know how many times he would talk to the pieces of paper, begging for the writer to make themselves known so he didn’t have to continue to guess.

 He had tried watching his locker from afar, waiting for whoever it was to come by and drop the lovely notes inside. But he never saw them. He wondered if they would enter the building after hours to do it, seeing as there would be a new letter in his locker the next morning. But who would go to such lengths to do so? Perhaps they would drop them off while he was in class and unable to watch? Or maybe he was just becoming too obsessed with it.

 Time and time again he would confide in his little gnome companion, looking for any sort of advice. He was, of course, greeted with the same words and same blank stare from the porcelain doll. So with a disappointed sigh, but a soft thank you, Parker sets Jeff down beside the stairs leading up the porch and stands up. Smoothing out his vest and slacks, he sets out for the academy. There was only one person he figured he could talk to about this and get back some insightful information, or at least something different. As much as he loved Jeff and valued his opinion, he couldn’t listen to the same advice day in and day out. He needed results and him sitting around and waiting, either for the person to approach him or to catch them in the act, wasn’t going to cut it. 

 Approaching the Harrington House, Parker can see Pinky conversing with Gord. Her sharp but exciting squealing cuts through the otherwise silent air, and he can see Gord nodding, a small smile on his face. 

“So, anyways,” Pinky’s rambling gets clearer as he approaches the duo, hands behind his back. “Daddy says we’ll be going to Milan to shop!”

“That sounds splendid!” The smile on Gord’s face gets bigger as he hears the news, and if Parker wasn’t so hellbent on getting some advice, he would be equally as excited. “Oh, Parker! Hello!”

“Ooh! Hi there!” Pinky finally acknowledges the older teen, her gleeful smile greeting him. He tries his best to match it as he stands before them, gnawing at the inside of his bottom lip. 

“Hello there!” Knitting his eyebrows together, Gord cocks his head. Leaning forward just slightly, he looks his friend over. 

“Something the matter?” he asks. This catches Pinky’s attention and she inspects him as well. Blood rushes to his face and he lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding in.

“Well, I have this…  thing , you see,” he starts out slowly. Reaching into his back pocket, he takes out the folded note he had found in his locker the day before. He had started a silly habit of carrying the newest ones around, and when Pinky saw the piece of paper come out, she started to squeal. 

“Ooh, is this a love letter?” she questions as she takes the note from his hand, unfolding it hastily like it was some sort of expensive present. Her eyes immediately started to scan over the words that were scribbled down, and she takes a closer look at the words that have been scribbled out. “Wow, they’re really into you!”

“Let me see that,” Gord all but snatches the letter away, reading it over himself. Pinky looks at Parker with a pleased expression, hands folding in front of her.

“How long has this been going on?” she asks. With a sheepish smile, he turns his gaze to the ground.

“A few weeks?” he tells her, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. He can hear the excited hum from the girl as he returns his gaze to her with somewhat newfound confidence. “I’ve tried catching them in the act, but I haven’t seen anyone! But there’s always a note!”

“Well, have you noticed anyone treating you… differently?” Gord asks as he hands the note back. Parker just shakes his head.

“Has anyone been looking at you more?” Pinky’s question catches him off guard. Looking at him more?”

“What in the world do you mean?” She giggles at his exasperated tone, bringing a hand up to rest on her hip and looking at him as though he was just plain silly.

“Duh! When people like you they get, like, this lovey-dovey look!” she clarifies, “It’s totally easy to spot because they just stare at you too, and look away when you notice them!”

“Lovey-dovey?” he repeats softly, brows furrowed. Gord rolls his eyes.

“It’s like when you see a new Aquaberry sweater,” he explains, waving his hand dismissively. “You’d notice it when you see it.”

 He had to think for a bit. He couldn’t recall anyone looking at him in such a way. However, he was recently too busy reading the love notes over and over again whenever he wasn’t busying himself with studies. With pleased smiles, both preps congratulate their friend and depart into the Harrington House. Parker slowly makes his way into the main building, mind traveling at a mile a minute. Had he ever seen anyone look at him the way the preps would when a new article of clothing was being released? Had he ever looked around the classroom and seen another student turn away from them? Oh, how he wished he would’ve paid more attention to the small details like that. Maybe he would’ve had an easier time finding his secret admirer. 

 There’s some time before the bell rings for class and Parker finds himself walking with a small pep in his step, headed for his locker. He plans on grabbing the book he was supposed to read for English class, along with his notebook and any new letters he found folded up inside. However, as he rounded the corner and had his locker in sight, he was surprised to find Michael leaning against it. One foot was up, resting against the metal as his arms were crossed over his chest. A scowl was plastered across his face, and this was the first time Parker had seen the teen in his normal street attire while he was in school. Normally he dressed somewhat close to the proper clothing policy set for the academy, though he kept his piercings in and wore them with pride. What was he doing there?

Standing there for a couple minutes, Parker watched the delinquent in wonder. He hadn’t moved much, though he could see those blue eyes glance around from time to time whenever someone moved past him. Occasionally he would bring his hand up, either rubbing his face or combing it through his hair, letting out a sigh. He would also take his phone out of his pocket, and it seemed as though he was checking the time. Was he waiting for someone?

Was he waiting for him?

Hesitantly, Parker found his feet moving almost on their own, carrying him over to the teen. He could feel his heart pound against his chest as Michael finally looked his way, and his once rough and tough exterior seemed to soften. Pushing off of the locker and standing on his own, his once crossed arms unfolded and his hands were down, one thumb hooking into the pocket of his jeans as he gave him a small smile.

“Hi! Uh-um… yeah...” Parker falters as he greets him, a wobbly smile spreading across his face. Hearing his shaky voice, however, seemed to put him at ease.

“Hey! I was just thinking of you!” This was surprising to hear. With eyebrows raised, Parker has to look around himself, wanting to know for certain Michael was actually speaking to him. After confirming he was the only one in the halls, he takes a deep breath.

“Were you now?” He tries to be as polite as he can, a part of him worried he would anger the teen. The delinquents were known to be hostile and, at times, territorial around Bullworth. Most targeted the preps in search of easy cash and Michael was no different. He had seen him and his friend prowling around Old Bullworth Vale more than enough times, and he had watched him break the window of a car to get whatever was inside. 

“How ‘bout you walk with me?” Michael suggests, and though his smile seems innocent, Parker can’t shake the paranoid thoughts. However, he feels obligated to agree. So with a curt nod, he follows Michael down the stairs and back out into the crisp autumn air. They walk in silence, passing through the front gates and turning left, headed into Old Bullworth Vale. Parker lags behind slightly, going back to biting the inside of his lip. Michael seems focused on the ocean to their side, staring intently at the rays of sun glistening off of the waves. He wished he knew what the delinquent was thinking, and wished he knew exactly where they were going.

 He’s led down the dock, still trailing behind slightly. When Michael sits on the bench, Parker keeps a bit of distance between them. He tries to focus on the scene before them, one that’s been almost burned into his memory from frequenting the lighthouse so much, but he can still see Michael out of his peripheral. The teen’s bouncing his leg, occasionally opening his mouth to say something, only to close it a second later and frown. It was putting him on edge, but he couldn’t find his voice either. 

Eventually, Michael reaches into his pocket and turns his body to face him. Fearing it’s a weapon and this is it, Parker leaps up from the bench, cowering away from the older teen.

“Please don’t hurt me,” he whimpers, bringing his arms up to shield himself as best he can as he screws his eyes shut. “It’ll upset my mom!”

“Hurt you?” Michael repeats. The soft and confused tone is enough to get Parker to look at him, lowering his arms. Michael’s standing before him now. Though his face is written with clear concern, his hand is slightly outstretched, a neatly folded up note clenched in between the side of his index finger and thumb. For the first time since the teen had gotten to Bullworth, Parker sees those blue eyes filled with what seemed to be hurt. He almost feels bad now.

“I wouldn’t ever hurt you,” His voice is still soft as he turns his gaze to the ground, a disappointed frown on his face. Parker supposed he had read the teen all along. However, with a deep breath, Michael picks his head back up, looking more determined as he confidently offers the note to him. 

“This isn’t how I planned on things going,” he confesses as Parker takes it from him, “but I’m not gonna chicken out. Tired of just… hiding.”

 He stares at him with a dumbfounded expression. Michael turns to take a seat back on the bench, hunched over with his elbows on his knees, staring out into the distance. Swallowing hard and unfolding the piece of paper with shaky fingers, Parker is greeted with the same handwriting he’s become so accustomed to. The blue ink stood out against the cream-colored paper, and the almost chicken scratch writing feels weird to look at now that he knows who it belongs to. Multiple words have been scribbled out, and it’s apparent he was lost while writing it. 

I’m getting so  annoyed   irritated  exhausted writing these stupid  letters  notes.  All I do is  It’s like I think of you most of the time and I can’t stop. I’m such a n   idiot  a coward for not approaching you sooner, and I hate myself for  writing you so much  it. I’m scared you’ll  be disgusted about me   hate me  think of me differently  if you think of me at all .  I hate that I can’t think straight   You mean a lot to me, and  I’ll  be hurt but  understand if you reject me, but I still wanna try. So if you’re free, meet me at the docks in Old Bullworth Vale. Hopefully we can start something.

 His grip tightens on the paper just a bit as he looks up to admire the teen. He was certainly the most unique out of everyone in town, but truth be told, he didn’t know much about him. He just remembered being in the main hall one morning and seeing two new faces, but neither of them had looked approachable. 

 With a soft inhale, he folds up the note and takes a seat beside the delinquent, hands folded awkwardly in his lap as he looks everywhere else beside him.

“So… what?” Michael finally asks, lazily looking up to catch his gaze.

“I think maybe we should… get to know each other?” he suggests slowly, a hopeful smile forming. Michael seems surprised but grins at him regardless. It’s such a strange site to see. He’s so used to the scowl normally sprawled across his face, the smile is such a warm welcome. Sitting up straighter and outstretching his hand, Parker gives him a childish smile. “I’m Parker Ogilvie, a sophomore.”

Michael stares at him for a bit, completely lost. However, a laugh escapes his lips as he grips his hand in his own, shaking firmly. “Michael Thomas, senior.”

Chapter Text

Sitting on his bed, yearbook resting in his lap, Pete stares at the signatures from the greasers. Summer break had started a few weeks ago, and while some students had gone back home or were on vacation outside of Bullworth, he had been trapped in his dorm. Sure, he went out occasionally to walk around town, see what was new at the cinema, or get some fast food, but that was it. Even Jimmy had been too preoccupied to hang out with him, which wasn’t too much of a surprise. Sure, he had hoped maybe he could hang out with his best (and pretty much only) friend over the summer before the ginger went home, but when he found the dorm room closed and texts explaining he was working those odd jobs for extra cash, all those expectations had flown right out the window. Pete was used to being alone, sure, but this felt worse. Having finally made a friend and then had just been… forgotten. 

So here he was, feeling sorry for himself and wondering if he could ease it by taking Vance up on his old offer. Join the greasers at the tenements, hang out and forget – just for a moment – that he was a loser. But the phone number seemed so intimidating, and as Pete grabbed his phone, he found it hard to do anything. To power it on, input his password and create a new text message. What would he say? “Hey Vance, I’m feeling lonely and wanna hang out”? Did that sound too desperate – too emotionless? Should he ask him how he was doing and hope he would be invited to hang out? He didn’t know how Jimmy did it. He had seen his friend start up a conversation out of nowhere. Even whenever he would text Pete, it would sometimes just be a simple “wanna hang out?” message that seemed so nonchalant. Is that what he should send?

His phone’s ringtone going off scares him, making him jump as he looks down at the caller ID. It’s a familiar phone number, and it’s only familiar because he’s spent the past hour or so staring at it in his yearbook. With a deep inhale, he accepts the call, holding his phone up to his ear.

“Hey, Vance! What’s up?” he greets, trying to sound confident as he closes the book, slipping it into his nightstand’s drawer.

“How’s it hangin’, big daddy?”  What  did he call him? Pete sits there, brows knitted together and mouth agape as the name replays over and over in his head. “You got my number memorized, huh? Now, why’s that?”

“Ah, I was just gonna text you, actually,” he confesses, “Why do  you  have my number? I don’t remember giving it to you.”

“Jimmy gave it to me,” He can almost see the greaser shrug, his reply coming like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Now then, what were ya gonna text me?”

“Uh I guess – uh…” He’s stuck now, mind drawing a blank. He can hear Vance on the other side, an interested  mhmm  coming through loud and clear, curious to hear his reply. “I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out?”

There’s silence on the other end for a bit, and now he’s worried that was the wrong thing to say. He should’ve asked how he was doing instead, cursing himself for blurting out the first thing that came to mind. However, he starts to hear shuffling, and he can faintly make out someone else in the background, but not one he recognizes from the academy. 

“If you don’t shut your mouth – not you, Petey – I’m gonna shut it for you!” Vance’s booming voice makes him jump, the sound of a door slamming shut at the end of his threat as if proving a point. With a sigh of relief, he starts again in a calmer tone. “Now, what was that? Hangin’ out? Sure!”

“Ah, are you okay?” he asks, “Who was that?”

“Oh, ya mean the yellin’?” he chuckles, the shuffling continuing on the other side of the call. “Sorry ‘bout all that. Sergio’s a bit of a prick sometimes.”

“Sergio?” Vance lets out a breath that sounds like a mixture of a scoff and a chuckle. 

“Older bro,” he tells him softly, and that airy, jokey tone has vanished. “Likes to butt into my life a lot. Annoyin’, but that’s why I stay away from home so much.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were home…” He should’ve guessed. Vance wasn’t one of the quiet kids at Bullworth. He was probably busy for the summer, either being home or with friends. 

“Nah, I need a break,” Pete can only guess he hears a window creaking open, and a few seconds later, Vance is letting out a huff. “You still at school? I’ll come swing by, pick you up. We can do whatever.”

“Really?” He tries to keep his cool and not sound like some desperate dweeb, but with the soft chuckle he gets, he knows he failed.

“Really. ‘Sides, I told ya to hit me up whenever. That’s why I gave you my number!” The comment makes him smile and Pete makes sure to let his appreciation be known. With a soft goodbye, he lets himself relax. A smile is plastered on his face and for a moment he wonders why Jimmy had given Vance his number. Whatever the reason, he doesn’t dwell on it too long. He knew Vance lived somewhere in New Coventry and he didn’t have long to get dressed. 

Setting his phone on the nightstand, he hops up from his bed and walks over to his wardrobe. He keeps it casual, knowing Vance wasn’t exactly someone who critiqued people’s fashion too harshly. The first thing he grabs is the old band shirt Jimmy had left when he spent the night months earlier. It’s simple enough, a white Billy Talent shirt with a little design, “like a fire!” right below it. It’s a little baggy and the material isn’t the thickest, but it’s something, and truth be told, he had always liked the shirt. Or, just maybe, he liked how cool it had looked on Jimmy and he hoped it would look just as good on him. Throwing on some old jeans and his sneakers, he ruffles his hand through his hair, ridding himself of any lint. He lingers for a moment, staring at himself in the mirror. Maybe he would grow his hair out this year? Something new.

With a shake of the head, he snatches his phone up and shoves it into his pocket, exiting his room and steering clear of Wade dumping one of the nerds into the nearby trashcan. Pushing open the doors, he jogs down the steps and makes his way over the main gate, anticipation coursing through him. A part of him is worried about how today’s events will transpire. What would they do? Would Vance make fun of him? Would he flake out? He did seem eager to meet up. But was that because he just wanted to get away from his brother?

“Ay, Petey!” He looks up, sending Vance a smile as the greaser approaches. Eyeing him up and down, Vance lets out a low whistle, eyebrows raised. “What’s your tale, nightingale? Ya look different!”

“Oh, I uh – I-I didn’t wanna make you wait,” he responds, letting out a nervous chuckle. Vance claps a hand on his shoulder, making him jump.

“Looks good on ya,” he tells him. Heat rushes to Pete’s face. How long had it been since someone had genuinely complimented him?

“T-thanks! You look good too!” It was the first time he had seen the teen like this. His hair had been slicked back, almost hastily, and while he still wore his leather jacket, the rest was different. A white dress shirt that had been unbuttoned, a black top underneath with matching jeans. Even his shoes were changed, old worn-out high tops that were left untied. 

“What? Ya like what ya see?” Vance’s teasing tone brings Pete out of his daze, the greaser laughing when he starts to stutter.

“I-I just – I mean I-” He takes a moment, breathing in and trying to collect himself as they start to walk. “Y-you just look different, too. Never seen you like that.”

“Got dressed quick,” he confesses, and even though his tone turns to a calmer one, his smile never fades. “Wasn’t really expectin’ to go out today. Glad you asked, though. Sergio was startin’ his crap.”

“I never heard you talk of him,” That wasn’t much of a surprise. Pete had often kept his distance from shop class, intimidated by the clique and their hostile personalities. He wasn’t exactly the best at fixing bikes either and didn’t have much of a desire for it, which was why he had skipped it when filling out what extracurricular he had wanted. “What’s he like?”

Vance hums a bit, lost in thought as they pass over the bridge that led into Old Bullworth Vale. He tells Pete of how Sergio used to go to Bullworth, and how he was the main reason he got into fixing bikes and wanting to eventually move on to cars. They lived in a broken home, their father occasionally bringing home some woman for the night and locking them out. Sergio would often steal the keys to the car before they were pushed out, giving them a warm and somewhat safe place to sit in throughout the night. Vance never knew if his brother slept those nights, but he remembered falling asleep in the passenger seat, the older teen behind the wheel with a scowl on his face and switchblade in hand. They often parked on the street in the richer part of town, but Sergio was paranoid, knowing of the delinquents that roamed around. Apparently, they were worse those few years ago from the stories he heard and the cuts and bruises on his brother’s body when he would come home in the early mornings. Vance even bragged about knowing how to set a broken nose and pop a shoulder back into its socket, much to Pete’s horror. 

The stories of Sergio eventually turned into how Vance joined the greasers. Once the leader of the clique, he had filled Vance’s head with stories of shop class. The stupid antics he and the others would get into, the stories and conspiracy theories Neil would tell them. They all seemed entertaining, and it was no wonder Vance had wanted to experience it. Sergio had apparently appointed Johnny’s brother as leader, but had forced him to agree to watch over and take care of Vance when he started his high school life the following year, knowing how hostile the other member was. So before Vance had made friends with Lefty and made a strong connection, Johnny’s older brother was right by his side, deterring any other greaser that came up with ill intent. 

“Maybe you’ll join us, too?” Vance’s suggestion catches Pete off guard, his eyes going wide as he looks at him. Could he ever really pass off as a greaser? 

“I-I dunno,” he stammers softly, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I-I don’t really see myself being… one of you guys.”

“I do!” he declares, a bright smile on his face. “C’mon! When school starts up, we’ll go talk to Neil!”

“We?” he repeats. Would Vance really go speak to the man with him to get him enrolled into shop? 

“’Course! It’ll be fun!” he tells him confidently. His head is held high as he wraps an arm around his shoulder, bringing him closer. “You’ll have us to hang out with and protect you. What? You think sometimes I don’t wanna goof off in class?”

The greasers had always seemed so serious when it came to their bikes, but he told a different story. How he, Ricky, and Peanut would make jokes, harass each other and even start small fights. They had been sent out more times than he could count, and Pete thought what that would be like.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally tells him. Throwing his fist in the air, Vance lets out an overjoyed holler. Pete supposed he would be speaking to Neil when August rolled around, and he would be spending more time with the greasers. At least he wouldn’t be alone.

Pete doesn’t realize they’ve made it all the way to the carnival until the loud music reaches his ears, having been too enticed in Vance’s interesting (and overly dramatic) stories. Some about the clique and some about his older brother. And as Vance pays for their way in, the greaser turns his attention to him. 

“What about you?” he asks, curiosity thick in his voice as they find a bench to sit down on. 

“W-what about me?” He lets out a nervous chuckle, avoiding the teen’s gaze. 

“I told you all about me!” he starts as he raises his voice just a bit, “Now it’s your turn! What’s ol’ Petey’s life like?”

“Not as exciting as yours,” he confesses softly. Vance just scoffs, rolling his eyes with a smile on his face. 

“Yeah, sure,” he dismisses with that snarky tone, “I seem to remember ya bein the one to operate that old hunk of junk in the junkyard way back when.”

“You mean the magnetized crane?” he clarifies, snicking as Vance rolls his eyes and waves a hand dismissively. 

“Yeah, whatever,” He turns back to him, a grin once again appearing on his face. “Now, again, tell me about yourself!”

“W-well...” There wasn’t much to tell, but Pete decided to share anyway. His story wasn’t as exciting or scary, but Vance seemed to take interest. He scoffed when Pete said his parents lived decently close to the school, but he lived in the dorm room anyway because his parents wanted “some peace and quiet”. No wonder he was so awkward. Vance would bet anything that his parents were to blame for the younger teen’s poor social skills. Not to mention his father was a librarian, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the man kept a quiet tone around the house too. 

When asked about any siblings, Pete could only shake his head. His parents were dismissive of his existence, often leaving him to his own devices, only coming around once in a while to check on him. His main entertainment was watching TV or playing video games, occasionally even drawing. His parents would buy him little sketchbooks, seemingly pleased that he had found something quiet to do without them having to hear noises coming from the television set. He did admit that he had a hamster at one point, an orange and white long-haired rodent that was his best friend for a few years before it passed from old age. It was sad that he didn’t even seem to have friends growing up, his parents not wanting him to go out for fear he would get hurt or taken. Maybe that was the only nice thing Vance had heard about the couple, but Pete had been right. His stories weren’t as exciting. Apparently, his first year at the academy had been the most thrilling time of his life, and Jimmy had been his first and only friend. Vance couldn’t imagine having a life so… sad.

“How’s ‘bout we keep makin’ this depressin’ life of yours fun?” Vance suggests, a glint flashing across his eyes as he grabs the younger teen’s hand, pulling him up from the bench. Pete falters and stutters out a flurry of questions, almost tripping over his feet as he tries to keep up with the teen’s fast pace. Vance is just a bundle of laughter, promising him a night he wouldn’t forget.

They start at the back of the park first, walking through the freak show and marveling at the people behind the glass. Alfred, the skeleton man, had been the first freak to greet them, eyeing Pete as he took a drag from his cigarette. Seeing his bones poke out through his skin had sent shivers down his spine, and his voice held something Pete couldn’t quite place. As they made their way further in, they could hear Paris talking, making some remark about the show she was watching. Sitting on her couch with legs spread, she sent them an acknowledging smile as she picked up a few chips, throwing them into her mouth as she scratched at her beard. Of course, Vance had a couple remarks about her, but Pete had tried to drown him out as he led him throughout the rest of the freak show.

The others had all been interesting, and Pete had wondered how life could be so weird. Siamese twins, a mermaid that Vance wasn’t too sure was real. However, the one who stuck out the most to Pete was Drew, the crazy painted man. His screaming and incoherent rambling had already made the teen nervous, but when the man threw himself against the bars of his enclosure, he had jumped back with a shriek, scared the bars wouldn’t hold him. Vance had grabbed his arm, steadying him as he tried to calm his nerves.

“He’s just actin’,” he tells him as he shoots an agitated glance at Drew, “Guy’s just some wacko. Probably doin’ this for the easy money.”

Pete just nodded his head as he followed him, but the screaming had stuck with him, and he was sure it would for the rest of his life. And though he didn’t want to admit it, he was more than overjoyed to have walked out of the freak show, letting out a breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding in. Maybe it was the dark lighting or how cramped everything felt, but Pete didn’t like it, only noticing once they were outside just how close he had been walking to Vance. 

“How about we try out those rides ‘fore it gets any darker?” It’s only now that Pete realizes the sun is starting to set. With a smile, he gives him a nod and follows him over to the Big Squid. The line moved quickly through the queue, and before they knew it, they were being seated in one of the carts. The monotone voice of Freeley comes through over the speakers, the request that everyone keeps hands and feet inside and not try to stand up during the ride. And when it starts, picking up speed and throwing them around, Pete can’t keep the smile off of his face, occasionally glancing over to Vance, seeing him laughing as well. It felt nice for Pete, to feel like he finally belonged somewhere or meant something to someone. 

By the time they get off, both are a bit dizzy. Pete raises his hand to rest it on Vance’s shoulder to stabilize himself, but when he finally registers the cool leather beneath his palm, he pulls away, worried about what response he would receive from the greaser. However, Vance just gives him a joyful smile as he leads him over to the roller coaster. They’re not seated in the front, Pete being too nervous, so both opt for the cart in the middle. 

“Lemme slide by ya there,” Vance’s voice is soft as he moves over to Pete, who’s sitting in the seat closest to the steps they had just walked up. They pull the bar down securely, Pete giving a few extra tugs to ensure it wouldn’t be going anywhere. Of course, this doesn’t go unnoticed, and the greaser snickers softly at the younger teen’s actions. Once more, they hear the monotone announcement before the ride starts, launching them towards the opening of the canyon before pulling them up. Everyone else on the ride has their arms raised, but Pete’s holding onto the metal bar for dear life. And as they approach the top of the hill, he screws his eyes shut, body tensing as he prepares for the worse. 

A scream is pulled from him as the coaster falls down the hill, and Vance reaches over to pry his left hand from the handlebar, raising it into the air with his, yelling at him to just let loose and have fun. Although his body is trembling a bit from the fall, he takes the advice and finally opens his eyes, loosening the grip he had on his other hand and letting it raise into the air as well. Vance is still holding his hand, palms pressed together as Pete grips him with almost the same intensity as he was on the bar. However, despite the biting wind in his face and the sharp turns that throw him into the teen, Pete can’t keep the large smile off his face. Vance is right, this is a lot more fun. And as the coaster returns to its original spot, the two are still laughing. The bar rises and Pete stands up, stepping out, still holding Vance’s hand to keep him steady and make sure he doesn’t trip as the greaser asks him how his hair looks. There’s one more ride and as they walk over, Pete has to stop the teen before he pays yet again for their fun. 

“You’ve paid for everything!” he tells him with a laugh, digging out a dollar from his pocket and giving it to the operator. “It’s time I paid for something.”

“Well, ain’t you just the sweetest,” Vance smiles at him as he leads him over to the rickety seat. He scoots over to the end, allowing Pete to climb in after him, both pulling down the bar that creaked loudly. The ride starts, jerking them forward a bit as they follow the curve up. The sun’s set by now, and the carnival lights illuminate below them as they’re taken higher and higher up. Pete shivers as the soft breeze picks up, but he tries to concentrate on the view around them. He can see the beach in the distance, the lighthouse’s light rotating around. Their cart stops at the very top, rocking slightly and Pete looks below. They’re so high off the ground that it’s intimidating. Another shiver runs through him, this one out of fear.

“You cold?” Vance questions, cocking his head as he looks at him. Pete lets out a soft hum, eyebrows raised as he turns his gaze to meet his. Vance just gives him a cheeky smile as he brings his hands up, gripping his jacket and removing it from him. It was the first time Pete had seen a greaser without their iconic coat on, and he was honestly surprised to see that he actually had some muscle to him.

“U-uh… what’re you doing?” Pete’s confused when Vance drapes the jacket over his shoulders, but the warmth he feels is more than welcoming.

“You’re cold, ain’t ya?” he asks with a small chuckle, “I’m fixin’ it!” 

“Y-you don’t h-have to,” he stammers softly, but Vance doesn’t seem to be taking no for an answer. He just sits there, a smile on his face as he tilts his head up, looking at the stars. 

“Glad ya asked me out, ya know?” he starts, catching Pete off guard. He was glad? “Gets kinda… crazy at home sometimes, and everyone else was off doin’ their own thing. Managed to find Jimmy and get your number, just to chat but… well, you had a better idea.”

“Yeah, I hear ya,” he agrees, going to hold the jacket close as he matches Vance’s smile. “I don’t really got anyone except Jimmy, and he’s been busy. I'm too cool to be a dork and too dorky to be anything else, so I’m always just… alone.”

“No, you’re not,” The confident tone makes Pete knit his eyebrows together. “Ya got me now! And soon, you’ll have the greasers! Peanut’s gonna be the leader, and I just  know  he’d be happy to have ya!”

“Maybe cause I’m Jimmy’s friend,” he scoffs softly, looking to the ground as the ride resumes, slowly bringing them down. “I just… I wanna feel like I exist without him, you know?”

“You do,” Vance wraps an arm around his shoulders, bringing him closer to him. “You and me? We’re existin’, right now, without Jimmy. And you’ll be existing, without Jimmy, when you join us.”

“Yeah, sure. We’ll see,” Maybe it was the low self-esteem Pete always had throughout his life. How dull and mediocre it was, and how the most exciting thing to ever happen to him was falling in with the only two psychopaths in all of Bullworth. “Just feels like I only had a meaning when Gary and Jimmy showed up in my life.”

“And you’d be wrong,” As they get to the bottom and the railing lifts, the two make their way out of the old cart, thanking the man and being on their way. When they walk to the gates, Vance’s arm finds its way back across Pete’s shoulder and they fall into step towards the exit. “Tonight’s been amazing, and it’s because  you  asked me to come hang. Not Jimmy, and sure as hell, not Gary. Don’t see any of those two makin’ you do this.”

“You’re right,” he chuckles. They walk back through the tunnel, Vance still giving him a pep talk he probably needed years ago. He’s still holding onto the jacket, his face tinted red and a smile pulling at his lips. It’s not long before they get into a more friendly conversation, making jokes and thoughts about what the next school year would hold. Vance kept referring to him as the newest greaser, and at this point, Pete wasn’t even denying him or the idea. He loved the thought in fact. To be part of a clique and feel like he belonged? Have something relatively close to a family that would care for him and make him feel like he mattered? It was almost like a dream come true.

They walk all the way back to school, sneaking past the prefects that were out prowling, looking for any students breaking curfew. It was a lot warmer inside the dorms when they entered, the doors shutting loudly behind them as they walked down the hall and towards Pete’s room. However, that was as far as Vance went. Standing outside of his room, he’s practically beaming at the younger teen.

“I had fun,” he tells him, and Pete can only nod in agreement. They stood close together, and the faint smell of Vance’s cologne mixed with the cigarettes he smoked almost religiously had radiated off of him. It was nice, calming in a way. 

“I uh – I’m uh… I-I’m really glad you called,” Pete laughs, turning his gaze to the floor. “Not sure I would’ve been able to text you.”

“Me too,” Curling his index finger under Pete’s chin, Vance raises his face so he’s looking at him again. Softly brushing his thumb across his bottom lip, he leans in to press a kiss to his mouth. Eyes going wide, Pete stares at him in disbelief when he pulls away, hearing a chuckle. “You have a good night, Petey. Maybe we can hang out again tomorrow.”

He opens his mouth to say something – anything, but nothing comes out. So instead, he just nods, his face on fire as the greaser chuckles once again. He takes a step back, gives him one last smile, and finally moves to leave the dorm. Pete’s knees feel weak, his heart racing, thudding so loud against his chest that it reverberates in his ears. He turns to go inside his room, but a gasp escapes his lips. He rushes after Vance, flinging the heavy door to the dorm rooms open.

“Y-your jacket!” he calls after the teen. Turning back with an innocently confused face, he looks Pete up and down. The leather jacket is still hanging from his shoulders. It was cute that he didn’t put his arms through the sleeves.

“You keep it,” he tells him, a smug grin forming. “Every greaser needs a leather jacket! Consider it a gift!”

“O-oh, o-okay…” He smiles, shrinking in on himself just a bit. “Thank you! I’ll take good care of it!”

Vance just nods, turning his heels and continuing his way out of school grounds and towards home. Pete watches him until he makes a right, disappearing behind the walls. With a soft sigh, he closes the door and returns to his room. He gently takes the jacket off, hanging it on the coat hanger by the door. His heart fluttered as he admired it, and he couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face. He owed Jimmy his gratitude, and come the beginning of the school year, he was going to make his way down to shop class and speak with Neil about joining. 

Chapter Text

The sun's starting to set and they're all getting ready for the prom. In fact, everyone's probably getting ready to leave by now.

Everyone except for Beatrice.

She had hoped that Bucky would've asked her out, or maybe even Earnest, but neither boy had approached her. She thought she had heard something about Earnest thinking about asking Mandy to the dance, but she never knew what became of that. All she knew was that she was sitting in her dorm room, alone, with her textbook sprawled out in front of her and her notebook opened to a page that had notes scribbled down on it. She had a dress hanging up in her wardrobe, sure, but she would've felt more like a loser going to prom alone. Besides, she needed to study anyway so she could stay ahead. If she remembered correctly, Melvin had a higher score on their last physics test, and she needed to be above him.

That, and she also needed an excuse to not feel sorry for herself for not being asked out. She had a feeling this would happen, and she knew she would never hear the end of it from Mandy. It seemed like she would find any and all flaws to use against her. Maybe it was because she stopped letting her copy her notes? Well, if she didn't have such a nasty personality, she would've considered helping her.

Unfortunately for Beatrice, the words in her textbook don't hold her attention. She can hear the girls in the hallway, some giggling while others just calmly chat. She even heard Eunice getting ready, and she couldn't deny the pang of jealousy she felt. Why did it seem like everyone had a date except her? The other nerds didn't seem too particularly interested in tonight, instead saying that they could all go play G&G at Dragon's Wing Comics. Oddly enough, she wasn't interested in that tonight.

“You're reading again?” Lola's voice nearly made her jump, the greaser leaning against the door frame. Even she was all dressed up in a black dress, a red belt around her waist with her signature leather jacket and ribbon tie still on. She's got an eyebrow cocked as she stares at her, a bored expression on her face. “Aren't you supposed to be ready for the dance? You know it's tonight.”

“Yes! I-I mean, I know it's tonight. I just...” She trails off. She didn't want to explain why she wasn't dressed. She felt like it should've been self-explanatory. Still, Lola clicks her tongue, looking around the room.

“You just ain't got a date,” she deadpans, and Beatrice's face heats up. “C'mon. Get dressed. You'll accompany me tonight.”

“You? A-aren't you going with Johnny?” Lola scrunches up her face, pushing a lock of hair aside.

“Johnny and I ain't talkin'.” She supposed that wasn't so shocking. Everyone heard about their latest fight. She didn't know what it was, but if she had to guess, she assumed it was the same as always: Lola being caught with another boy, they yell and fight, Johnny promises that they're finally through, and by this time next week, they'd be back together and happy as could be. If that's how the dating lifestyle was, Beatrice was sure she didn't want to be involved in it. Besides, her schoolwork was too important to ever let some boy come between her and her dream.

“So, you gonna get dressed or what?” Well... she  did  want to experience prom. 

Closing the textbook, Beatrice slides out of bed and makes her way to the wardrobe. She ignores the amused scoff from the greaser when the green plaid dress comes into view, and Lola promises she'll keep her back turned while she changes. She tries to be quick about everything, nearly falling over when her toes catch on her blouse that's been discarded on the floor.

“You ain't gotta rush,” Lola calls to her in the same bored tone. “Everyone knows you don't gotta be there on time, and it'll probably last for a few hours.”

“I-I just didn't wanna keep you waiting!”

“It wouldn't be the first time someone has.” Slipping on her flats, Beatrice sends a smile her way, snatching up her signature ribbon and tying it into her hair. She follows Lola down the hall and out of the dorm, ignoring the glances of the other girls.

“You always gotta wear that dirty old thing?” The question makes her face burn, but Beatrice tries to not close in on herself.

“Of course! I think it's cute!” she responds. When Lola stops walking, she follows suit.

“Lemme try somethin',” She reaches out, untying the ribbon from her hair and redoing it around her neck, looking almost identical to the red ribbon tied around hers. She scrunches her face up, just a bit, as she continues to fuss with it. “Well, it'll have to do, but it looks a lot better.”

And it felt too choking, but truth be told, she wasn't brave enough to undo Lola's work. Her hair was next, the greaser combing her fingers through it and telling her to stop whining whenever she would hit a knot and making her wince.

“You're not gonna be embarrassin' me at this dance,” Lola had grumbled while smoothing down her hair. “so quit whining! It's so annoying!”

It took her a few minutes, and she had even offered her her lipstick. Still, that was a step too far and Beatrice had to decline. She didn't personally have anything against Lola but... she didn't want to resemble her either. The ribbon now around her neck was even pushing it.

They walked across campus, Lola rolling her eyes when she told her that Bullworth was too cheap to rent out a banquet hall for a proper prom. Apparently, Dr. Crabblesnitch had said that the gym was big enough for everyone to be in, and had even made the students that got detention clean it up. Beatrice had assumed Derby's father would've done something for the academy, and when she had brought this up, Lola scoffed.

“He didn't want “the poor leeches” anywhere near his property.” she spits, “Apparently some of the delinquents had broken into his car and stole a whole lot of stuff. Sounds pretty exciting though, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure...” No, it didn't. But she wasn't going to have Lola call her a loser tonight. She already felt like she had by taking her hair down.

Still, it was nice to be going to prom with someone, and Lola had even thanked her when she held the door open for her. The music left much to be desired. Too loud for Beatrice's taste, and Lola still looked bored out of her mind. The main area was swamped with students, all dressed up and looking their best. It was no surprise seeing Pinky dressed up like some fairy-tale princess, a blue glittery dress that was decorated in lace, something Lola had turned her nose up at, calling it tacky. Beatrice knew it the insult was out of spite, but she wondered how deep her hatred ran for the preps. It wasn't a secret the greasers were poor, but she never knew the extent of it. If anything, she mainly heard Lola talk about Mandy behind her back. 

She had seen Hal and Ricky glance in their direction a couple times, both of them eyeing her up and down before talking to one another. She felt the heat creep up to her cheeks. Were they making fun of her? Of course they were. She always felt like she was the brunt of everyone's jokes. She was sure the greasers would be no different.

“Oh look, some of the boys are here!” She half expected Lola to go join them, leave her on her own, but she instead called the two over. They weren't exactly dressed up, having only taken off their vest to reveal their undershirt.

“Didn't think you'd be here,” Ricky comments. Lola holds her hand out, letting him twirl her around. He glances over at Beatrice, though he doesn't talk to her. “So, you got a new date? Thought you and Johnny would've patched things up by tonight.”

“I don't know what Johnny's doing,” she huffs, crossing her arms when Ricky lets her hand slip from his. “I mean, I don't know why he would be mad at me. I was just asking for help on some homework.”

“Yeah, I'm not even gonna comment on that.” For the first time, Beatrice actually agrees with Ricky. She knows Lola had a “certain” way of getting things done for her. Really, it was no surprise that Johnny got so angry at her all the time. She often wondered why he stuck with her.

“So you decided to come with... uh...” Hal looks at Beatrice, his eyes (and obviously mind) blank. She wants to take offense, and deep down she does, but she still gives him a small smile.

“Beatrice.” He nods his head, turning his attention back to Lola. To Beatrice's surprise, Lola seems to perk up.

“Unlike Johnny, she actually wanted to come with me!” Well, that wasn't the whole truth, but she wasn't going to argue with her. “Don't she looks cute?”

“She looks different,” Hal agrees, though he's eyeing her neck. “Did you... did you do that? Like on your own?”

Her face heats up. “Oh, no! Lola didn't like the ribbon in my hair, so she redid it herself.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He's laughing though, his arms crossed over his chest. “It looks nice! Doesn't really... suit you...”

“She just needs some more work,” Lola assures them, and Beatrice wonders what she means about that. Did she think she was going to be dressing like this every day?

When Hal and Ricky's dates get back to them, Beatrice is once again left alone with Lola, catching the occasional surprised glance from the other students. It made her feel weird, insecure. Plus the silence between her and her “date” was weighing heavy on her. She found herself getting close to just calling it quits and leaving, but when the song changed to a slower tempo, Lola grabs her hand and leads her into the sea of students.

“Come on, we gotta dance to at least  one  song tonight!” she tells her, placing her free hand on her hip. Beatrice can barely get over her shock before Lola is having her fall into a casual rhythm. 

They dance for a bit in silence, swaying back and forth while Beatrice constantly readjusts her grip on Lola's shoulder, and she can feel her hands becoming clammy. “I-I'm not exactly used to this.”

“I can tell. You should go on a date. It might help.”

“Ah, boys aren't exactly my thing...”

“Who said it had to be a boy? Guys can be such selfish jerks anyway!”

“Then why do you always go for them?”

“Maybe no one else has ever caught my attention before.”

Beatrice lets a beat pass by before speaking again. “Has a-anyone caught your attention lately?”

“Well, I could think of a certain someone.” She almost sounds giddy telling her, an excited smile on her face. “Kind of cute, but nowhere near as pretty as me! She does have potential, though.” That smile turns into a pout. “But she's always so busy and we rarely bump into each other. A girl like me shouldn't have to work so hard to get someone's attention. Oh, it's almost embarrassing talking like this! I could have any boy I like, but I can't have the one girl I like!”

Beatrice doesn't respond. She's not too knowledgeable about relationships. Sure, she's read them in romance books, but she doubts that fairy-tale stories like those apply in real life. Still, she wondered who Lola was talking about. Maybe one of the delinquents? They seemed like they would be her style.

“W-well, maybe you should talk to her more?” she suggests slowly, trying to recall anything from those romance books she would read in her off time. “Why didn't you ask her to dance?”

And there it is, the amused look on Lola's face like that's the question she's been waiting to hear all night. “I did!”

Chapter Text

“I hear that stinking Greaser Queen, Lola, is fooling around with all of us preps! Some people will do anything for status...”

Maybe he was right. I mean, that's all she had ever really gone to him for; money. He'd take her on dates, give her some of his allowance money from daddy, and then she'd disappear for a week or so, only to come back and the process would repeat itself. Sure, he had bought her flashy gifts as well, hoping she'd come to her senses and leave Johnny for good. He could give her everything that brute couldn't. Isn't that what someone valued in their partner?

But maybe he shouldn't have sulked around the Harrington House like he was. Of course everyone knew what happened. News in the academy spread like wildfire, and the other preps were having their fill of poking fun at him. All except for Bryce, who had seemed to be only giving him the side-eye today.

That was fine. He supposed. One less of his own to call him a loser and a fool. He already felt like one. He didn't need to hear it from the others.

But Lola had been so convincing! Any of them surely would've fell for it! How sweet she was and how genuine her compliments sounded about his boxing skills. He just thought... well, he wasn't exactly sure what he had wanted to think. Maybe that finally, after all this time, someone wanted to give him a chance? He would never voice it so freely, but he wasn't too fond of his looks. And to have such a beautiful girl seemed interested in him...

Yeah. He should've known better. He should've known it was too good to be true. What did his father use to say? “If something seems too good to be true, it probably is”? Yeah. He saw that now.

So here he sat, feeling sorry for himself with Chester right next to him, chewing on his toy. It was stupid. He knew it was stupid. But he couldn't pull himself out of this stupid little depression hole. He had talked it out to Chester, but of course he didn't get a response back. The dog only stared at him with blank eyes, cocking his head every now and then. Well, at least it made him feel a little better to talk about it. And being alone with his dog always felt nice.

Until Bryce decided to walk into the yard, his head held high and his arms crossed over his chest.

“There you are!” Chad almost inwardly cringed hearing his voice. He assumed he had dropped by to throw some backhanded compliments his way like the rest had done. “No one's seen you for hours.”

“I wasn't exactly hiding,” he deadpans. He notices how Bryce falters a little, but he's quick to recollect himself.

“Well, I can see that. Why are you all alone?” Wasn't it obvious? He didn't feel like being the butt of everyone's jokes anymore. Luckily, Bryce catches on to his silence. “Ah, is it about that Lola girl?”

“Do you know why I like Chester so much?” Chad's question catches him off guard. “He doesn't talk.”

He almost looks stunned, mouth hanging open as he searches for a response. Instead of finding one, he simply takes a seat next to Chad, his legs crossed and hands folded neatly in his lap. Chad watches as Bryce purses his lips, once again opening his mouth but then opting to close it again. What a strange teen.

“I get it.” Bryce finally says, and his brows are furrowed like he's trying so hard to think about what he's going to say next. “I mean... I guess I do. Money can make people do stupid things.”

“Oh? And are you talking from experience?” The way Bryce frowns almost makes Chad feel bad. He knew Bryce was insecure about money problems almost as much as he was about his looks. And really, it wasn't exactly Bryce's fault. If anything, he hadn't really commented at all on the whole Lola situation.

“I just... well, I guess I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for how the others have been acting.” Oh? “For what it's worth, I think she's a right fool for not wanting to seriously be with you.”

That... was probably the nicest thing anyone has said to him all day. And the fact that it came from another prep actually made it even more special. He couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from tugging up into a smile.

“I really do appreciate that, Bryce.” There's a new air around the teen as he jumps up, beaming down at Chad with his hand outstretched.

“Come on!” He tugs him up, seeming to have gotten some new energy to him. “How's about you and I go to the carnival? That should take your mind off of everything!”

“With my money, I'm assuming?” Chad teases, but Bryce just lets out a scoff. He rummages through his pocket, pulling out a credit card Chad doesn't remember ever seeing.

“Daddy managed to win some money and pay off the old credit card,” he tells him proudly, “so it's my treat! How about you go change into something warmer and we'll head over?”

He lets out a laugh. A day at the carnival with Bryce? Sure. “It sounds like a date, then.”

Chapter Text

“Mmm... Johnny Vincent is kinda cute. Why is he with that tramp Lola?”

She had heard a wide variety of responses from the girls who overheard her. Some agreed; some thought she was crazy. Of course, she had brushed the latter off, claiming they needed to get their eyes checked.

She shared only one class with the greaser and, by chance, she had been assigned to sit behind him. That is, whenever he would actually care to show up. Normally he would waltz in halfway through class, Mr. Wiggins glancing up only to see who was entering. He normally threw an “oh, there you are, Johnny!” before going back to whatever he was teaching. Normally, Johnny would toss his bag to the ground before sitting, and he had gotten into the habit of looking down at Mandy before taking his seat. It always made her internally squeal, the thought of the rough and tough greaser king actually admiring her making her stomach do flips. She may or may not have written his initials down in her notebook, surrounded with hearts.

Today was different. It was the first day of fall and, much to her dismay, her sweater had been torn after getting it caught on something during chemistry. Had it been a small tear, she wouldn’t have thought much of it, but the seam that connected the sleeve to the torso had ripped a good amount and was letting in all of the cold air. How fun.

The second her practice was over, Mandy was the first one out of class. She dropped by her dorm to snatch up her purse with a huff. She hurried as much as she could, the wind making her body shiver. She would’ve asked to borrow Ted’s jacket but, surprise surprise, he wasn’t answering his phone. Whatever. She wouldn’t be out long anyway. She just needed to get something until she could save up enough of her allowance money to get something cuter, or until she could mend it herself.

Her phone went off the second she crossed the bridge; a text message from Christy asking about tomorrow’s practice. She clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth. Hadn’t she already been over this with her? It would be the same routine they had practiced today, and if she wasn’t there, they could just practice without her.

She’s halfway through her text when her arm collides with someone. “Oh, my god!” She’s ready to slap whoever bumped into her, but all of her rage dissipated when she came face to face with Johnny Vincent.

“Careful, now.” His voice is low, calm. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand, a lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth. His brows knit together as he looks down at her. “You uh… you know your sweater’s ripped, right?”

Her face burns as he stares at the exposed piece of skin peeking through the tear. “Yeah. Got caught on something during chemistry. It totally blows!” Her hands fly up in frustration. “Like, I can’t have a ripped sweater, and all of my other ones are totally dirty!”

“Sounds like a real problem,” he chuckles. She’s ready to say goodbye and continue on her way when she sees him pulling his arms out of the sleeves of his leather jacket. “Here. This’ll keep ya warm.”

“You’re not serious.” She stares at the jacket as he holds it out to her, patiently waiting. “What about you? Won’t you like… be cold too?”

“Ah, I’ll be fine. ‘Sides, you need it more.” She finally takes it from him, draping it over her shoulders. It’s nice and warm, a few sizes too big but she loves it. However… “This totally reeks of smoke.”

Johnny laughs. “I bet you’ve never smoked, huh?”

“Yeah, of course!” she shoots back. “All the cool kids have.” He takes his cigarette, holding it out for her. Her face burns in embarrassment. “I-I have to stay in shape for cheer.”

He nods before taking a drag. “Where’s that boy of yours?”

“You mean Ted?” Again, he gives her a nod. “I dunno. I tried calling him so I could borrow his jacket, but he wouldn’t pick up his phone!”

“And you’re still with that?” he chuckles. Mandy lets out a huff.

“You’re still with Lola!” she retorts. His entire demeanor changes, the smirk vanishing.

“Yeah, I dunno ‘bout that anymore.” He gestures to the bouquet in his hand. “Got these for her, but… ya know.”

“Well… she totally doesn’t deserve you anyway!”

“Yeah, I guess.” The silence between them is brief. “Hey, lemme walk you back to the dorm. It’s getting late.”

“I-” Her heart races. The sun was going down pretty fast, and how could she say no to spending more time with Johnny? Especially now hearing that he probably wasn’t with Lola anymore.

“You can wait until tomorrow,” he tells her. “Supposed to be warmer too.”

“Yeah, okay.” She holds the ends of his jacket closed, the metal zipper having finally warmed up from her hands. “So, what happened between you and Lola?”

He groans. “Ah, you know how she can be.”

“Totally.” She rolls her eyes. “I bet she’s been with half of the school just to make you jealous.”

“Ya know… I wouldn’t be surprised.” He sounds defeated as he removes his cigarette from his mouth, tapping the ends to get rid of the excess ashes. “What about you and Ted? I heard he gets around himself.”

“Ugh, I hate it!” It wasn’t a secret Ted had been caught with Christy more than once. But… “Like, it doesn’t hurt, but it’s just embarrassing you know?”

“Doesn’t hurt?” he parrots. “Him bein’ with someone else don’t hurt you?”

“Well, not really. Honestly, I’ve been like… thinking of leaving him.”

“Why haven’t you then?”

“You know how it is.” She opens his jacket, showing off the Bullworth emblem on the chest. “Jocks are meant to be with jocks and all that. But I’m getting tired of it!”

“Ain’t no one said you gotta date within your clique.”

“Then why are you with Lola?”

There’s a pause. Before she can tell him to forget the question, he finally answers: “She saw me when I was at my lowest. And she didn’t turn her back on me.”

The response stuns her. All this time she had just assumed that he was captivated by Lola’s beauty or even her interest in shop. Maybe the fact that they were in the same clique. But to hear that was quite the surprise.

“I… totally never would’ve guessed.” The smile Johnny gives her isn’t a happy one; it’s sad, defeated.

“Yeah. I don’t talk about it much.”

The rest of the walk back to the dorm is silent, and Mandy’s thankful that it’s not long. He walks up the steps with her, both standing outside the dorm.

“Thanks for walking me back.” She smiles up at him. “And for giving me your jacket. That was totally cool of you.”

“Yeah, no problem.” She starts to take it off, but Johnny puts his hand up. “Keep it in case I’m wrong about tomorrow. And…” He looks at the bouquet he’s still holding before handing it out to her. “Here. I think I should give this to someone who will actually appreciate it.”

“Are you serious?” Her face burns a bright red as she slowly takes the flowers from him. “Thank you! I guess everyone was wrong about you.”

“I’m not that bad, am I?” he laughs. She shakes her head.

“Not at all.” She opens the door but pauses before entering. “You know… you should like try out for the team.”

He laughs again. “Only if you start taking shop.”

“Hey, I totally could if I wanted to!” They smile at each other and Johnny takes a step down.

“You have a good night, Mandy.”

“You too. Goodnight!”