Chapter 23: Lingering Doubts
Like many of the greasers of Bullworth Academy, Lola Lombardi had a less than ideal family background. Her father was unknown and her mother, who had run away from home and cut all family ties, had been a mere teenager when she had given birth to her. The young mother had tried her best in her own way, but she had managed to get killed in a car accident with her drunk boyfriend when her daughter had been seven years of age.
Lola's current legal guardian was her grandmother: a conservative, religious lady who had vowed to bring Lola up into a proper lady, to make up for the mistakes she had done with Lola's mother. It was clear that she was losing the fight, but she accepted no sympathies – the stubborn old soul refused to accept defeat. Never mind that the voluptuous girl loved to prove her efforts futile and she had already had to send Lola into a boarding school because she had almost caused her guardian to have a nervous breakdown. And now, it was time to give her a new wrinkle.
"Hello boys. Where's Johnny?" Lola greeted her fellow greasers.
Everyone seemed startled and no wonder, really, because she had just opened the door to the auto shop class with such force that it slammed against the wall. Not to mention that actually being face to face with Lola had become about as likely as seeing jocks do their own homework.
"He's, um. He and Norton are serving detention outside", answered Vance.
"And, where would that be?" Lola inquired with a chuckle, her arms akimbo and her torso bending down slightly so her cleavage was showing. The baffled young men looked at her and each other for a moment before someone managed to come up with an answer.
"At the library, I think", Ricky said.
"Thanks. See ya!" Lola said cheerily and was about to leave.
"Hey, whoa, slow down girl! Are you, er, okay and stuff?" Lucky asked, concerned.
"Yeah, you've lost some weight lately", Hal chimed in, sounding somehow disappointed.
"Oh, don't you boys worry about me, I'm fine! Ciao!", Lola giggled with a wink before she turned around and closed the door.
Many of the greasers shuddered. Not only because Lola had let some more cold air inside, but also because there was something off about the greaser queen's tone of voice.
"Wonder if Johnny's finally gonna get some tonight", Lefty pondered idly while going through the contents of a tool trolley.
"Looks like it. Maybe he'll chill out a bit – the guy's a trooper but there's only so much a guy can take", Ricky chortled.
"You'd know all about that, wouldn't ya Ricky. Not gettin' enough", Vance said with a smug grin as his brows twitched suggestively.
"Shut it Vance!" the lean brunette lashed back. When he hear other greasers snorting at him, he pouted a bit and Vance had to stifle a laugh.
Ricky and Vance were very different kinds of people and tended to bounce off of each other. Hardly ever violently, though. Ricky was gullible and clumsy when it came to girls, plus he was a boy-next-door type of young man and rather squeamish when it came to sexual orientations beyond heterosexuality, so he was an endless source of entertainment to the more suave, pimp, and very much bisexual Vance. The short redhead, on the other hand, wasn't very imposing physically and was regularly outshone by Ricky's handicraft prowess.
"Y'know what guys? I'm startin' to think that maybe Lola and Johnny really do deserve each other", Hal suddenly grumbled.
"How so?" Lucky asked, curious.
"I can't help but to think that the guy's tryin' to prove somethin' with all this, I mean, that level of devotion is ridiculous. And, if he's pulled us through all this shit just to show he can do it, he deserves to have an incurable tramp like Lola for all I care", the overweight greaser said bitterly as he wiped his hands with an oil-stained rag.
"Yeah. I guess you're right, Mr. Psychologist! You were so right about Peanut, too", Lucky remarked, rolling his eyes.
"Can it already. At least I was right about their friendship bein' unnatural", Hal hemmed.
"Oy!" Vance immediately snapped, taking offense.
"Oh shut the hell up Vance, you know that's not what I meant. Keep your gay rights shit outta this", Hal retorted venomously and threw his rag on the floor in his frustration.
"I meant exactly what Ricky said; there's only so much a guy can take", Hal continued with a lower, quieter voice.
His words hung in the air like a bad smell. Nobody seemed to want to comment them. The rest of the greasers knew that it was for the best to fade into the background when Hal and Vance had an argument.
"It's been buggin' me, y'know. I really wanna talk to Peanut about this stuff in person. I wanna make some sense outta this", Vance said after an awkwardly long time.
"Good luck with that if Norton finds out. Dude's sick of this shit becoming more complicated and, to be honest, so am I – can we please fuckin' get over this whole thing about Larry?" Hal asked, leaning against a counter.
Greasers that had been left outside the conversation and tried to work on their projects had started to show signs of being very irritated, both because of Hal's cynical remarks and Vance's touchiness concerning the subject. The stocky boy glanced around him, interpreting the sullen expressions as the greasers being supportive of his views, then he cocked his brow at Vance.
"Spoken like a true friend, Hal", the redhead said coolly, crossing his arms.
"Yeah, because it's so mean to conclude that this shit is no-one else's business except Larry's and that we should shut up about it like he himself wanted", Hal hemmed right back at him.
"Y'know what Hal – if I go to him tomorrow and get the answers I want, I'll shut up about this forever. Deal?"
Hal's lips twitched as he bit the insides of his cheeks and pondered about that.
"Whatever. Do what you want – I won't tell Norton but if he finds out, you get no sympathies from me. Anyone else support this notion?" he asked, looking around him.
"Sure why not" was the summary of the greasers' contemporaneous mumbling and shrugging. It was settled: Vance would try to talk to Larry. Little did he know, however, that he would have to put that on hold because of some far more pressing matters.
Author's Notes: I actually don't really like Vance. If I hear "What's the deal, pinwheel?" or "What's your tale, nightingale?" ONE, MORE, TIME... Actually, I've already swirlied him to oblivion, so I'm not sure what I'd do that'd be worse to that hair-obsessed weirdo (also a fictional character who cannot feel pain). Hmm.