Oh boy here we go! A female OC that I don't think is a Mary Sue, but that's for you to decide. I don't own this song, but I do own the female.

Johnny Angel, Johnny Angel
Johnny Angel, Johnny Angel
You're an angel to me

I don't know why I was attracted to him in the first place. He was smaller than me, with an ugly scar on the side of his face that was always darker than his skin, which was rather dark to begin with. Not only that, but he always had that disgusting hair grease in, which made him look like he hadn't washed his hair in weeks, maybe even months. Other times he would come to school with dirt on his face, bruises littering what little skin he would show.

And yet I think I loved him.

It all started with that day I was getting some trouble from one of the hoods that actually bothered to attend school. He was leaning against my locker, making it so that I couldn't retrieve my Chemistry book, and really embarrassing me. The guy was usually funny, I had some classes with him, but he didn't seem to know how far too far was.

"C'mon man, can't you leave her alone?"

He had a soft voice, scratchy and low, as if he had been smoking for far too long. Judging by the smell coming off his clothes, he had recently been out for a cancer stick, but who was I to judge the person who was helping me out?

My first impression of him was that he liked to fight. His eyes were hard, closed-off, as if he had hidden all his emotions deep within him and he wasn't about to let them out. The love of fighting was an assumption based solely on the fact that his face was covered in bruises and cuts. One eye was almost entirely swollen shut and there was a cut that had been stitched up on the side of his face. What did I do? I wrinkled my nose and stalked off, leaving my chemistry book in my locker.

Johnny Angel how I love him
How I tingle when he passes by
Every time he says hello
My heart begins to fly

I wouldn't have been so rude to him if I had known we shared a class. Well, maybe I still would have, but I would have made a habit of at least pretending to be nice to him. It was physical education, where it didn't matter what grade you were in because in the end you still had to strip down in front of the peers that shared your gender and wear uncomfortable shorts that showed too much skin while the guys got to delight in the feeling of sweat pants that seemed to come in only one size: large.

When I noticed he was in my class, he was sitting out, wearing the gym clothes and looking like they were a million sizes too big. It didn't surprise me, for he was small and not only that, but he was thin. Sometimes I wondered if he just had a fast metabolism, or maybe if he was in some sport.

One class I found myself sitting out from a soccer game with cramps and who happens to sit beside me, but Johnny Cade. He was watching the game with an unreadable expression, and I gave him a small smile. In return, he only blinked and turned back to the game.

"Hi."

He turned back to look at me, raising his eyebrows and giving me a small smile in return. "Hi," he mumbled, not meeting my eyes when he spoke to me. This wasn't such a big feat in the long run, but at that moment I felt that I had really gotten somewhere.

Johnny Angel how I want him
He's got something that I can't resist
But he doesn't even know that I exist

I should have known, of course, that I couldn't really spend time with him. He was a Greaser after all, and I wasn't one to associate with that type no matter how big of a crush I was developing. Word got around about him, who he hung out with and how he had gotten that bad beating that I had seen him with. He hung out with Dallas Winston, who was a sort of legend to the people who bothered to pay attention to the social class rivalry. After all, who wouldn't notice a guy who was young enough to be in high school with a record that seemed to stretch for miles?

The next few weeks in physical education were silent between us. I would sometimes fake stomach aches to sit out next to him, but he never spoke to me after that one brief exchange. I'm not going to lie, but it irritated me. Here I was, going out of my way and risking my grades to talk to some hood who doesn't seem to notice my existence at all.

Soon I just gave up. I tried to dismiss the crush as one that came with growing up, but it always lurked in the back of my mind, and he seemed to be everywhere. Needless to say my friends picked up on it quickly and they chided me about it constantly as well as poked fun. It wasn't normal for someone like me to like someone like… him.

And yet I did.

I'm in heaven, I get carried away
I dream of him and me and wonder how it's gonna be
All the fellows call me up for a date
But I sit and wait.
I'd rather concentrate
On Johnny Angel
Cause I love him

News got around school pretty quickly.

One of my best friends had a boyfriend, wonderful guy who was funny and sweet. He never cheated on her like a lot of the other boys and he treated her so well… he was killed. The news hit everyone; it made us upset and it made the boys angry while the greasers seemed shocked or joyful. It sickened me, especially when I would walk down the halls with a distraught Cherry and find smirks on the faces of those worthless hoods.

"It was him that did it… the one you liked," Cherry sniffed one day as she and I talked on the phone. "It… it wasn't his fault, though. Not really. Bob… Bob was drunk but—" her voice wavered and she began to cry again. Despite the pain I felt in my heart I comforted her best I could. When we hung up I sat there for a moment, before allowing the tears to slip down my cheeks.

Oh, Johnny…

And I pray that someday he'll love me
And together will see how lovely heaven will be.
And together will see how lovely heaven will be.

It was amazing how many people attended his funeral despite the fact that he was a greaser, a hood… someone who nobody seemed to care about except his friends. There's a whole church of us because there were some donations for a nice funeral, but as I look around I see no tears except those of his friends, and even then I see no tearstains upon their cheeks.

We're a church full of phonies. When the preacher asks if anyone would like to say a few words, seven young men step forward and after that there is silence. How can we say a few words when we barely knew him? I want so badly to get up and leave, for I feel like I'm intruding on something that doesn't pertain to me in any way. All it was was a crush… I can easily forget that.

I wish it had been that easy.

So, any comments? I thought this was a bit like the Karate Kid trilogy (fourth never existed, it's just that awful)... it got worse as it progressed. I don't know, though, because I'd like to know what YOU think as the reader.