Chapter 15: Unfettered

Christmas came and went in Bullworth Academy. In this school, instead of being a celebration of peace and the birth of that one guy who a lot of people seem to know, Christmas was a time of being creative with using snow as a tool of abuse and moaning about how cold it was. And surely, the students were very creative indeed when they least needed to. It hadn't taken long for deeply worrying snow sculptures depicting acts of debauchery to appear.

This year's end wasn't your usual one, however. The social cliques, whose scuffles usually escalated around all kinds of special occasions, seemed unusually listless and unorganized. Except the bullies, of course, since they were listless and unorganized by default. Although Peter Kowalski's unforeseen determination to tone down the clique's influence on students was a factor in this, it seemed as though a simple concentration of bad luck played a bigger role.

Apparently Earnest Jones and his perverted shenanigans had managed to bring down his trustworthiness as a leader. This coupled with hostility between people supporting the usage of a new, updated Grottoes & Gremlins rulebook and the supporters of the old one had made things rather difficult for the nerds. Their opposites, the jocks, were in peril because Ted Thompson had suddenly become very ill. The reason was unknown but accusing looks were shot towards Damon West. Preppies, on the other hand, seemed to not only be getting more thorough scrutiny from the prefects, but also had problems due to Derby Harrington and Tad Spencer duking it out with each other.

The greasers were limping forward, too. Things had gotten better some time after Peanut's encounter with the preppies, but there had been another plummet. Nobody outside the clique knew why exactly, but the greasers had become suspiciously stifled and submissive around their leader. The assumed reason was that they were bracing for another impact: Lola Lombardi had not only started to avoid Johnny, but all kinds of contact with people in general. That had to be a sign that something bad was about to happen.

All in all, it was truly the season for those who didn't belong. Those who had no interest and those who simply couldn't make it into the cliques. When students came back from their winter break in January, the non-clique students were unusually refreshed and empowered – this included Larry Romano, the ex-greaser. Although very few people noticed or cared, he seemed to have changed significantly.

This change did not, however, escape Johnny Vincent, who felt that the world was just rubbing it in for him. He hadn't thought that it could ever be a problem, but Larry's recovery was starting to get to him.

"Hey man", the greaser king greeted as he approached Ricky in the school hall.

"Hey boss. Er- how's it goin'?", the tall greaser asked.

"Ricky. I have to ask you somethin'. Somethin' about Larry", Johnny said ominously. His junior seemed to tense immediately, looking desperately to the sides for any kind of distraction.

"W-what is it boss", he said, not actually inquiring in any way. He didn't want to know.

"I notice that you guys are really quiet... And there have been rumors...", Johnny mumbled, his words being too quiet for the busy students around them. Ricky seemed to break sweat and the corner of his mouth twitched nervously as he leaned forward and listened.

"I'm guessin' you guys are tryin' to be considerate by not tellin' me, but really, I wanna know..."

"Y-yes, boss?" the tall brunette stammered. Johnny frowned, noticing Ricky's uneasiness and only becoming more confident because of it.

"Is it true that Larry's hangin' around with the townies?" he asked with all the seriousness in the world.

Ricky blinked.

"W-wha?"

"... What, you don't know?" Johnny said, cocking his brow.

"I- I, uhh. Yeah, sure! Whew. Well, I mean yeah, I also heard somethin' like that. Pretty wild huh?" Ricky prattled, seeming very relieved.

"Well what didja think I was gonna ask you about?" the greaser king snorted.

"Eyuhhhm... Lola? 'Cause if it's about her, I just don't know man, I really don't know, heh heh", the younger man nervously laughed, shuffling his feet and turning his eyes to the floor.

As Ricky looked back at Johnny, he realized that he was looking somewhere else, seeming concerned and a tad annoyed. When the boy determined the direction, he looked the same way. It was Larry, unsurprisingly.

"Dropouts. I mean, really, those psychos, junkies, losers? What's he doin' with them, Ricky?"

"Dunno man. Dunno", the lean junior said, sighing.

Johnny frowned deeper as he observed his old friend. He didn't look that different if you compared his looks to how he was after his resignation from the greasers. He had cut his hair: it was short all around but left slightly longer at the top so that the unruly brown strands right above his forehead stood up as spikes where his greased pompadour had been. But, that was pretty much it. He hadn't adopted any kind of different style for his usual school attire or anything. He hadn't suddenly gotten taller or more toned, either.

The real change was the way he carried himself. Instead of hastily marching ahead, slightly hunched and his shoulders tense, he took long, fluid strides with an open posture. It was like he was walking in slo-mo. His confident, energetic gait was almost swaggering as he ran his hand through his hair, walked the stairs down, greeted Jimmy Hopkins on the way to the front door, and passed Johnny and Ricky as if they weren't there.

Johnny jogged his memory – how had he walked when he had still been a greaser? Had it ever been anything like this?

"I didn't think I'd ever say anything this Crabblecrotch-like Ricky, but I sure hope he's keepin' his nose clean", he muttered after the ex-greaser disappeared through the door. The younger boy couldn't think of anything appropriate to say, so he just nodded.

As Larry walked to the school's parking lot, doing his best to avoid a big snow fight, and unlocked his bicycle, he was in high spirits. He had spent Christmas at his mother's place and, against all odds, it had actually been pretty decent. He had never enjoyed being around his strict and stuck up stepfather Harvey, but for the first time in a really long time, he had interacted with his half-brother Scott and it hadn't been totally awkward. If Larry and his sister had a gap somewhere, it was nothing compared to what was between him and Scott: there was an eight-year age difference and the fact that Scott had grown up in sterile suburbia while Larry had never been a stranger to the rougher, more colorful side of life.

It was the same now. He had managed to get a part-time job at a warehouse via Edgar Munsen and Larry found that it was probably the most exhaustingly dull thing he had subjected himself to, but at the same time it was exactly what he needed. Nothing blows away self-centered angst quite like hard labor and seeing people who are dependent on such work. People with real troubles with their spouses, like, I-wanna-strangle-you-and-dance-on-your-grave kind of troubles, men who have become unable to breed thanks to the now non-operational chemical plant next to them, and smart, creative minds stuck doing jobs that a retarded monkey could do – that kind of stuff makes you think. Makes you appreciate certain things.

Furthermore, Larry had gotten new friends. Sort of. He was at least in friendly terms with many of the dropouts despite being a student at Bullworth Academy, mostly because Clint had evaluated him to be an alright guy after he had been done with his bicycles. Larry had at first been determined not to have any more affiliation with townies than it was absolutely necessary, but now he was warming up to the idea of hanging out with them more often.

One thing that was great about the dropouts and Blue Skies folk in general was that they didn't have any of that convoluted, tangled social mess that Bullworth Academy did: it didn't matter who you spent time with or what kinds of things you were into. It certainly helped if you weren't rich or a student, but otherwise you were free to be almost anything you wanted and nobody was concerned about being seen with you.

It was freedom. He had found it in a most dehumanizing environment, but Larry had gotten a taste of it nonetheless. It was great.