"Woo-hoo, Johnnycake! Fancy seeing you here!" Steve jumps at him from behind and lands his hands hard on Johnny's shoulders. Johnny crouches, arms shielding his head. When he's aware of what he's doing, he feels the burn of his face turning red. The parking lot at the Dingo where they're loitering is pretty active with older greasers he doesn't know, who are hanging out and bragging to each other about their cars and their girls. There's a good chance some pretty tough characters witnessed him acting like a wimp.
When Johnny straightens himself and looks up, he catches Dally's hateful glare, but it ain't aimed at him.
"What were you thinking?" Dally slaps Steve across the head.
Steve shoves Dally. "Calm down, Dallas, I forgot."
Dally shoves Steve. "You trying to tell me what to do, Randle?"
"Guys, come on, cut it out." Johnny's already repositioned himself so his back is to the wall of the diner. That way, nobody can jump out at him. He pushes his bangs out of his eyes and forces himself to face his friends. It's damn pathetic, reacting that way after all these months. Just because he had to talk to one of those boys who jumped him today doesn't means he has a right to get so spooked. Shoot, that Randy kid let him cuss him out and walk right out of the library. He didn't even take the bait. Johnny needs to calm down. He's overreacting. He needs to act like a man.
Dally slings his arm around Johnny's shoulder. Johnny's heart jumps out again, but for the wrong reasons. He schools his face into indifference.
"You okay kid? You're extra jumpy today. You need me to stop by and teach your old man a lesson?" Dally balls his hand into a fist. Not like they needed a visual signal. Dally threatens to teach his old man a lesson at least once a week. If Johnny didn't stop him, he'd carry through with it, too.
"Naw man, he's been doing all right for a couple days. He found Jesus again or something. I don't know why he keeps losing him." Nobody laughs at Johnny's attempt at a joke, probably because it's not really a joke.
"Everything else okay?" Steve asks. He lights up a cancer stick, but before he can take his third inhale, Dally snatches it and takes a puff.
"Winston, knock it off. Give me that back. I'm almost at my last one."
Dally quickly hands the smoke to Johnny. That hadn't been his original intention, but now the cigarette is lost to Steve forever. Nobody in the gang takes a smoke from Johnny. The same way nobody in the gang steals food off his plate or loses their temper with him or even gives him a hard talking to.
Steve doesn't look happy about the situation, and Johnny probably should give it back, but he starts in on it anyway. He could use one right now to calm his nerves.
"So, what happened?" Dally lifts up Johnny chin and checks his face for bruises. There's nothing new and Dally's mouth pinches in confusion.
"You know Dallas, not every problem is physical," Steve mutters bitterly. He lights another cigarette.
"Guess you should know," snaps Dally.
Johnny hates it when they get like this. He gets enough bickering at home and Dally and Steve together are the worst. He can't wait until Soda's finished his date with Sandy; it's more balanced when the Soda and Steve are together.
"Oh, and you don't?" Steve says.
"I don't have problems."
Steve scoffs. "Sure Dallas, keep telling yourself that. You only got hauled in last weekend for the hundredth time. And where're you living now? Buck's? That old hillbilly-"
"If I say I don't have problems it's 'cause I decide I don't. Whatever happens, it don't matter." Johnny believes him. That's what makes him so tuff. Dallas Winston doesn't have a care in the world. "And Randle, you could not have problems too if you could quit being so angry."
"And Johnny could not have problems if he quit being so sensitive," Steve shoots nastily.
"Keep your mouth shut before I break that jaw," Dally threatens.
Steve scowls at Dally, but he puts a hand on Johnny's shoulder. "Look, I'm sorry," he says. "I don't know what got into me."
Johnny gives him a small smile. "It's okay, man. And anyway, it's true."
"So what is it?" Steve asks. "Your bitch mom lay in on you again?" He gives him an understanding look.
"Watch your mouth when you're talking about my Ma," Johnny answers. He leans his face against the wall and brushes his finger against a torn paper advertisement for the diner. It's a picture of a dairy cow wearing an apron, holding out a tray with coffee and pie.
"It was a Soc," says Steve, "if it weren't your folks. Some damn Soc threaten you? I swear to God I could kill every one of them. I'd be glad to. Those rich shits..."
"There was a Soc, but nothing happened. I'm fine."
Dally raises his eyebrows at this.
"Nothing happened, okay?" Johnny insists. "Nothing. I'm just a little on edge today is all. I'm fine." They don't believe him.
"You see one of them boys who jumped you?" Dally asks, voice stiff.
Johnny stubs out the cigarette with his toe. It's been about a month since Dally last asked him, and he had hoped Dally had simply quit it like Johnny begged him to. Shortly after the jumping, Dally asked him everyday. Who did it, Johnny? Point them out to me. Do you know their names? What do they look like? Come on kid, tell me. Tell me. Dally has a heater and a short fuse and Johnny knows Dally would kill those boys. All five of them. And while Johnny don't care about the fate of cruel rich kids who exist for no other reason than to torment greasers, the last thing in the world he wants is Dally locked in the cooler for life for murder.
"Naw, Dally. I told you. I got knocked in the head. I don't remember what they look like."
Before Dally can start in on it again, Steve interrupts. "Let's go to the Curtises'. I think Soda said something about baking chocolate cake last night."
So they go.