Author's Notes: I feel more at ease while writing about violence and abuse than about people talking about their emotions. It makes me feel mushy :S

Chapter 11: Everyone Learns the Hard Way

The walk from Harrington house to the boys' dorm was a difficult one. Larry could move himself, but he lacked strength and coordination and he was shivering violently so he leaned on Norton. Ricky had lent him his prized black leather jacket, but it offered little comfort even though some of his body heat lingered on it.

During the trek, Vance and Ricky seemed to want to say something to Norton, but they didn't. The black greaser assumed that it was about what he had said to Derby Harrington. He decided that it wasn't any of their business, so it was better if they didn't ask. He had felt bad for saying it, but he felt that he had needed to, for the sake of everyone involved. It would be simpler if the preppies didn't think they had an instant access to Johnny's undiscriminating rage via Larry.

When the four had managed to get to the crossroads where they would turn right to the boy's dorm, they saw people on bicycles steer to the school grounds via the front gate. Upon seeing the four boys, they hit the breaks and stopped skillfully without hitting each other. Or, at least, some of them did: most of them weren't quite sober.

The performance that was closest to being perfect belonged to Johnny Vincent, who stopped and jumped down from his bicycle with one, fluid motion. When the young man let his bike fall to its side, he took long, strong strides towards Norton's group. When he stopped in front of them, his right-hand man gulped. Johnny didn't seem to be even the slightest bit drunk. How was that possible?

"What the fuck did they do to him?" asked he, his voice shaking with anger as he looked at Larry.

Vance was about to tell him, but Norton cut him off.

"No time to tell. We oughta get this guy to the dorm, he's freezing his balls off", he said gruffly.

"NO, Norton, YOU go take him to the dorm and the rest of us go beat Darbie and his Ken, and all the other rich scumbags", Johnny responded with a low but clear voice. He most certainly wasn't drunk, for whatever reason that was. The rest of the greasers stood behind him, nodding approvingly.

"THE HELL YOU ARE, BOSS! That's what they want, don't give it to them! They want us to wage war against 'em so they can get the the teachers, the prefects, and the head boy work against us!" Norton bellowed in retaliation.

"He's... Right", Larry said, his voice trembling, and raised his head to look at Johnny. He took a glance at him, his brows knitting together, then turned his eyes back to the ground. Johnny frowned as he looked at him. His face was incredibly pale, his damp hair was stuck to his forehead, and his body was shivering all over. The clique leader's nose scrunched in bitter disappointment at both him and Norton.

"Fine. Fuckin' whatever", he huffed, "but we're gonna wake Hopkins up right now and if the boy wonder gives his okay, we're stormin' the preppie nest immediately."

After making enough noise, the greasers had managed to wake up Jimmy Hopkins, now a prefect and the self-nominated king of the school, and Pete Kowalski, the head boy. Upon seeing the state Larry was in, they only wanted to hear the basics until he the boy would be warmed up again. The noise of the greasers suddenly returning to their respective bunks woke up several people, among them the nerds, who remarked that a hypothermia patient should be warmed up gradually.

When they had managed to get Larry out of his wet clothes and into a warm bath, the greasers discussed the situation with Jimmy and Pete in the recreational room. Norton did most of the talking, while others listened. Johnny was the most quiet of all, which was atypical of him. Kowalski promised that he'd try to get this into Dr. Crabblesnitch's attention, but he said that they shouldn't expect too much. The Harrington family's ties with Dr. Crabblesnitch always came first to whatever anyone, even the head boy, said about Derby's activities. Jimmy said he would give the preppies what was coming to them soon enough, but he wouldn't let Johnny lay a finger on them.

Now, Norton was sitting in the rec room with Larry, having soaked in warm water for a long time, but still rather chilly and in need of calories. The second-in-command of the greasers had volunteered to keep him company until he would be back to normal temperatures while others slept. It gave him a chance to properly speak to him alone while the boy snacked on a candy bar someone had nicked from Melvin.

"You remember anythin' about what I said at the Harrington house?" the taller boy asked, breaking the bout of silence.

Larry, buried under several blankets, frowned and nodded sternly. He did.

"Do you understand why I said that stuff?"

"Yeah. I appreciate it, man. Thanks", Larry said faintly.

Norton sighed, both relieved and sort of frustrated at the same time.

"I kinda thought you would", he muttered.

"You really ain't a greaser no more, just like ya said."

Now it was official to Norton, too: Larry did not want to be associated with the greasers anymore, period. The two hadn't been in friendly terms when they had still been new to the clique, Norton having been on Johnny's side before the times when he and Larry had even been rivals, but they had eventually become friendlier with each other after Larry had stepped down. So, this wasn't exactly nice to Norton either.

"I didn't think it'd be this final, either. But the more I think about it, the more it makes sense", Larry told, his voice somewhat tired as he took one last bite left of the candy bar.

"So are you still... Y'know...", Norton tried to ask without putting his question into words. Larry understood and shut his eyes tightly, then pressed his chin to his chest so most of his face was covered with a blanket. He didn't feel that what he was about to talk about were fit for a man's mouth.

"It ain't gone anywhere. In the end, it got nothin' to do with how grateful I was at him savin' me or some crap. I mean, even when he was kickin' my ass over nothin' at the Hole I just felt... I just don't know", he told, his explanation muffled by the covers.

Norton looked away and shook his head. Larry noticed his disbelief and revealed his face again, to show him he wasn't kidding. Not that the black youngster really thought he was.

"I know what you're thinkin', and I'm thinkin' the same, probably: things like this just don't happen. But I guess they do and it fuckin' blows", he said pessimistically.

Norton frowned at Larry. The greaser did not, by any means, have the heart to believe that Larry could fake having a crush on his best friend for this long. He had doubted it when he had first forced the information out of him, but afterwards, he had seen so many things. Nothing too obvious, ever, but the signs still had been there.

"The guys still sorta think that you're comin' back", Norton commented.

"Too bad but I ain't. It sucks, but I don't want them to know the real reason, either", Larry responded.

"Lola knows, right?"

"She does. She thinks it's funny. Can't really blame her, I woulda thought it's funny if it weren't me it's happenin' to", Larry hemmed.

Norton opened his mouth to say something, but what he wanted to ask didn't seem to want to come out. He had to encourage it one more time before it let itself be spat out.

"Larry, are you sure you're okay with this?"

Larry swallowed as he constructed sentences that made some sense of the ridiculous torrent of thoughts and feelings inside him.

"Yes", he sighed, "I am. I got nothin' against you guys, but I just, it's gonna kill me if I don't bust outta this scene. I can't let this thing get the best of me", he explained, sounding determined.

Norton rolled his eyes at his stubbornness. Greasers, they were all somehow alike when it came to things like this.

"Y'know, it could be that Johnny wouldn't be mad. Maybe he'd lay off a bit if you told him, he'd let you have your distance and not... Jump at you every time Lola's givin' him shit", he hinted. Larry shook his head.

"At this point, it don't matter what he'd think or what he'd do. We both know what he is and what he ain't. Besides, this is somethin' I gotta learn, y'know?"

"What's that supposta mean?" Norton asked, baffled.

"Well, it's the same with normal guys like you, right? You can't just whip your dick out at the sight of a chick, or get every chick you want no matter how you do things right. And it's gonna be like that, always. You just hafta cope somehow. 'Cause we can't all afford bein' like Lola", Larry muttered thoughtfully. He felt lucky that he had learned so much from his friends' mistakes before he had managed to make them himself.

"But seriously man, there coulda been some other way than runnin' off 'n' burnin' all the bridges behind ya", Norton grumbled.

"I dunno, maybe. But this is what I'm gonna do. Otherwise I'm just... Gonna keep hopin'", the drowsy ex-greaser responded, his eyes half-lidded.

The two sat quietly for a while, looking at nowhere in particular. Norton wasn't happy about any of this, but he figured that his intrusion wouldn't particularly help: Larry had made his decision.

"Are you gonna sleep here or in your bunk?" the tall greaser asked, breaking the silence again.

"I think imma stay here. Thanks for keepin' me company, Nort", Larry said, sounding like he was going to fall asleep any moment.

Norton nodded at him and stood up. As the boy left the rec room, leaving his pal sitting on the couch, Larry made one more mental note before dozing off: it was time to stop being so childish. It was time to do something he had tried to avoid for a long time: call home.

Author's Notes: I know there doesn't seem to be a single bathroom or anything of the sort in the boys' dorm but I don't care, there has to be one hidden around there somewhere.