Making it Work, All of It
orphan_account
Summary:
Annoyance shot up my neck and I resisted the urge to throw the book at his stupid face.
"Okay," I sat back and rolled my eyes; the change in my tone must've caught his attention because he looked at me then, "do you think I wanna goddamn be here in the library with you right now? I know you don't know me but I actually do make plans for Friday nights too, so why don't we just get this over with so next time there's an English class it looks like you at least tried to listen to me. I'm sure whatever girl's waiting for you can manage another half hour without you."
I looked back down at my notes with irritation and he didn't say anything for a while, still looking at me. When I finally looked at him again there was a small smirk on his lips.
Set during The Karate Kid but not a shot by shot retelling at all. Told from the perspective of OC, Jenna, definitely NOT developing a crush on Johnny Lawrence.
Chapter 1: Strawberry Milkshake
Chapter Text
Everybody knew who Johnny Lawrence was. If you'd been to any sports game, you'd probably heard his name cheered from the crowd and most weeks you couldn't sit in class without hearing his name over the loudspeakers telling him to go to the principal's office. For me, there was no ignoring his existence because my best friend, like nearly every girl in school, talked about him so often it could give me a headache. I couldn't pretend I was above noticing what he looked like, he definitely stood out with that blonde hair and those broad shoulders, a little taller than most of his friends, but I really did not get the obsession. Sure, he was athletic, but he was also a total asshole and kind of stupid. I couldn't imagine actually having a conversation with him. Although she'd recently dumped him, I never understood why Ali Mills went out with him at all, we weren't friends but I sat beside her in History and she was smart and nice to everybody. It was as if the law of high school was that the pretty cheerleader had to date the handsome sports star and she had just been following the rules.
"God, he looks good on his bike, doesn't he, Jenna?" my best friend Sharon said dreamily, leaning against the locker beside me. I looked over my shoulder and saw him and his friends all laughing and standing around, him leaning on the seat of his motorbike, just so we all remembered he had one, I supposed... He was always in the middle of that big group like he was the king and they were his subjects; it seemed kind of pathetic to me that they just trailed him around and did his bidding, laughed at everything he said.
I rolled my eyes and closed my locker, books under my arm.
"He looks like he's never had a thought in his head," I said and tugged her away before we were late for our separate classes.
"So?" She giggled and looped her arm around mine.
Sharon was a little taller than me, dark-haired and pretty, but she wore big glasses and had braces and that seemed enough to mark her as uninteresting to the boys in school, which was an issue because boys were one of her main interests. For me, I noticed them, but I couldn't really care that much. Senior year would be over before we knew it and I could finally get to college and away from these dumbass Cali boys. For most of them, I was too quiet and disinterested to seem like I'd be any fun to hang out with - I wasn't shy, I'd just learned that no attention at high school was better than any.
English was my favourite class and I always enjoyed ending the day with it on Fridays. I sat in my usual spot by the window so I could smell the air outside while I made my notes. We were doing Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing , and I didn't understand why everyone else had found it so boring. I'd loved it. Still, that was something I wouldn't be shouting out loud, being ignored was way better than being branded a nerd. My notes were in different colours and columns, it helped it all stick in my head when tests came around; the teacher was droning a little and was not my favourite, but the material was enjoyable enough to me on its own.
I tucked my red hair behind my ears and leaned on one hand while I wrote.
"Mr Lawrence?" The teacher, Mr Wilson's, voice cracked harshly through the classroom, breaking my concentration, and I saw Johnny Lawrence, who sat two desks in front of me, jump in his seat a bit, clearly having not been paying attention. "Are you still with us?"
"Yes, sir," he said, running a hand through his hair.
"Good, perhaps you'd like to have a go at my question: how do you think gossip plays into the plot of the play?"
I looked at the back of his blonde head and there was a long pause that said he had no idea how to answer. It was baffling to me why that would be when it was most of what we'd been talking about for the last two weeks. I bit back my desire to put my hand up, not out of a sense of showing off, more out of wanting to break that uncomfortable tension when someone clearly did not know how to answer a question and everyone was silently waiting. Jerk as he was, I kind of wanted to help him out.
"I'm assuming you've actually read the play, Mr Lawrence," the teacher said, adjusting his wireframes on his nose.
"Yeah, I have, I just uh-"
"Well if you've read the play and still have no understanding of it then perhaps you need some extra help," okay, I felt pretty bad for him at that point, it seemed mean of Mr Wilson to call him out like that in front of everyone, "Miss Parker?"
When he said my name I went a bit pink in the cheeks from surprise; everyone was looking at me, suddenly.
"You wouldn't mind helping out your classmate this afternoon to earn a little extra credit, would you?"
Well shit, I wanted to say, yes I really would mind doing that, Sharon and I had plans to go to the burger place after school and then back to hers to smoke some weed. I guessed that answer probably wouldn't go down well with the teacher though.
I looked over at Johnny who was looking at me with a displeased grimace on his face that pissed me off, as if this was my idea.
"Of course not," I forced a smile and shrugged my shoulder.
"Thank you, Mr Lawrence, please go with Miss Parker to the library after class and see if she can illuminate your understanding before the test that I'm sure I don't have to remind you is next Friday."
Johnny's friend, I think his name was Tommy, snickered and batted Johnny on the arm, glancing back at me, and I think I heard a quiet 'screw you' from Johnny. My nostrils flared when I felt like I was being mocked and I went back to my notes, wishing everyone wasn't still looking at me. I knew Mr Wilson liked me because I was good at English Lit, but he was absolutely tone deaf if he thought that had been a good way to go about things.
I was distracted for the rest of the class, dreading having to go up to Johnny and take him to the library like I was a teacher. He probably wouldn't even come, just run off when the bell rang and make his excuses later. That would be fine by me, it wasn't like it'd be my fault.
When the bell rang and we all filed out though, he did wait by the door, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed and a completely pissed off expression on his face.
"Hi," I said, forcing another smile, unsure of what to really say.
"Let's just get this over with, alright?" he grumbled and left the classroom ahead of me, having me follow. Annoyed that he was acting like I wanted to be there any more than him, I tucked my hair behind my ears and followed, having to practically jog to keep up with his pace. He was easily 6'0 and I was only 5'3.
The library was empty, thank god. If anyone saw me talking with Johnny Lawrence alone they would hound me about it for weeks, I would never hear the end of the jokes. We found a table in the study room by a window and sat in the worn-out chairs at either side of the low table. I ignored Johnny's disinterested expression when I laid out the books and my trapper keeper in front of us; he shrugged off his red Cobra Kai jacket and slung it on the chair behind him. He smelled good, I'd give him that at the very least, whatever cologne he was wearing gave off a fresh scent when his jacket was off.
"So uh, it's probably best to start with making sure you know the key themes," I said, unsure of myself, "once you identify about 3 or 4 themes to talk about you can basically build your whole essay off your interpretation and say whatever you want."
"Uh-huh," Johnny looked boredly out of the window and draped a leg over the side of the chair arm. I bit back my irritation at his aloofness. At least I hadn't been wrong for judging him as a dickhead from a distance.
"Yeah, so, like Mr Wilson said about gossip, that obviously plays a big part in basically every aspect of the play. Both in the romance and the comedy."
He didn't even bother making some noise in response that time, just tapped his foot and acted like I didn't exist. Annoyance shot up my neck and I resisted the urge to throw the book at his stupid face.
"Okay," I sat back and rolled my eyes; the change in my tone must've caught his attention because he looked at me then, "do you think I wanna goddamn be here in the library with you right now? I know you don't know me but I actually do make plans for Friday nights too, so why don't we just get this over with so next time there's an English class it looks like you at least tried to listen to me. I'm sure whatever girl's waiting for you can manage another half hour without you."
I looked back down at my notes with irritation and he didn't say anything for a while, still looking at me. When I finally looked at him again there was a small smirk on his lips.
I raised my eyebrow, "Yes?"
"Nothin'," he held up his hands and sat up straighter, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, "I just thought you loved all this studying stuff."
I frowned and found a fresh sheet of paper. It would probably be worth starting simple and just talking him through the themes one by one, "I don't know how you thought anything about me when we've literally never talked."
He didn't respond to that for a second and I saw his adam's apple move in a swallow when I glanced at him.
"I just mean like in English, you always know the answers," he said with a shrug.
"It's not because I study all the time, it's just because I like it," I used my red pen to write 'misunderstanding' on the sheet, "and it's not that hard if you actually read the material."
He went quiet at that, and there was a sheepish look on his face when I looked at him. It only dawned on me then that he hadn't read the play at all.
"Shit," I said and crossed my arms, leaning back in the seat again, "well I don't know where to start if you haven't even read the goddamn thing."
"You curse a lot," he said, looking like he was trying and failing to hide his amusement, "I've never heard you curse."
"Again, we really don't know each other," I said, probably a little meaner than I meant to. I looked down at my watch and sighed. It was already 3:30 and it would take forever for him to read the thing - it would also take a long time for me to even explain the whole thing to him so he could believably relay it to Mr Wilson, "why the hell haven't you read it yet?"
"I've got better things to do," he said like it was obvious, "I don't know why we have to read that boring old crap anyway."
"The test is next week!" I pointed out. "Aren't you trying to go to college? You can't afford to fail right now."
"Alright, mom ," he said impatiently and picked up my notes, "just tell me what I need to know."
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, "Okay, let's start at the beginning then, I guess."
So I ended up talking him through the entire plot, as succinctly and as well as I could. To my surprise, he actually did seem to be listening other than the times his attention would break and I would click my fingers to get him to stop staring out of the window. He would ask me clarifying questions, frown when he didn't understand something, but he was engaging way more than I assumed he would.
Much as I hated to admit it to myself, he actually wasn't that bad to talk to. He could even be kind of funny. He also wasn't bad to look at… not a totally awful sight to have to be around for a while.
Before we knew it, it was past 4:30pm and we had been at it for over an hour and a half. I only noticed the time because Sharon came in the library and I knew her AP calculus class must've been over. I could see the surprise on her face when she saw who I was with and came over, moving her teased bangs out of her bespectacled face.
"I thought you'd have gone home already," she said to me as if she wasn't totally distracted by the company I was keeping.
"Uh, no, Mr Wilson wanted me to help Johnny out with something," I said, not embarrassing him with specifics, "we're pretty much done now though."
"Hi Johnny," Sharon smiled at him and he smiled back in a tight way that didn't look real.
I started to tidy my notes and books into my trapper keeper, "We can meet up again before the test if you want, up to you." I hoped he'd say no.
"Yeah, I guess," he shrugged, back to that aloof way of acting, "you wanna give me your phone number?"
Although I wasn't looking at her, I basically felt Sharon thrill with excitement beside me. I don't know why she was, it wasn't like he was asking me for anything other than free tutoring. While I wrote my number down on a piece of paper, Sharon looked at him, worrying the hem of her skirt nervously.
"Do you have plans tonight Johnny? Me and Jenna were thinking of going to Golf 'n' Stuff, maybe," she said, which was a total lie, we never went there. We had been planning on eating burgers and getting high in her car.
"Uh, yeah I don't know yet," he shrugged and stood up, putting his jacket back on, "might see you there."
It annoyed me how disinterested he seemed in talking to her when he had been perfectly fine talking to me before.
"Yeah, sounds great," she smiled, showing her braces. He just nodded and took the piece of paper I ripped off with my phone number on it, tucking it in his pocket. It annoyed me when he didn't thank me or even really say bye when he left the library. It was like he thought he was too hot shit to be remotely polite.
Sharon was giddy on the way out of the school, wanting every piece of tiny, boring information.
"I can't believe Johnny Lawrence has your phone number in his pocket, he might call your house," she said.
"Yeah, can't wait to be stunned by his witty conversation," I said and went around to get in her passenger seat, "honestly don't you think he was a little rude to you?"
We got in the car and she considered it for a moment.
"I don't know," she shrugged, but I knew she was smarter than that, "maybe that's just his personality."
It bothered me that she didn't seem to care that he'd been so impolite to her.
"Trust me, he doesn't have a lot of personality to speak of," I told her, which wasn't entirely true, he had made me chuckle a couple of times, mostly by accident. We drove away from the school and were halfway home when I remembered what she said.
"We're not going to the Golf 'n' Stuff tonight by the way," I said, opening the window and leaning back in the seat.
"What? Why?" She protested.
"Are you on crack? We never go there, it sucks," I said, looking at her incredulously, "people only go there to show off their cars and neck in the parking lot."
"And you would totally hate to neck with Johnny Lawrence?" She asked me sceptically and took a pack of cigarettes out of her glovebox.
"Ew, yes, I would hate that, and I'm pretty sure he would too," I said and lit it for her while she was driving. I didn't smoke cigarettes, personally, weed on the weekends and maybe a few beers were it for me.
"I don't know, he was looking at you a lot," she smiled slyly.
"I was sitting directly across from him, Sharon, where was he supposed to look?" I really had not got any kind of flirtatious vibe off of him - it was usually exclusively nerdy guys that were into me and showed it anyway. He may have been a dick, but the guy could have picked any girl in school and had her tripping over her feet to get to him, including my best friend beside me.
"I'm just saying, I felt a vibe, and you know you're really pretty," she shrugged, "but I suppose he does have that natural smoulder."
I snorted and pulled the lever of the seat so it was practically laying down. Tired from the week at school and the extra almost two hours I'd spent that day.
Sharon dropped me off at home so we could both change before going out that evening. My mom was always out on Friday night, she was always out most nights, really, and I preferred not to be sitting in the house on my own waiting for her to come home drunk. That was why it didn't really matter if I stumbled in myself reeking of pot, she never noticed. Sharon's parents were a little more attentive than my mom and they were a lot richer than us, living over in Encino Hills, so her house was big enough that she could successfully sneak in and out at the weekends without them noticing she was gone.
It was hot, so I took a shower and put on a pair of high waisted denim shorts and tucked my white Bowie t-shirt into them, finishing the whole thing off with sneakers and a ponytail to keep the hairs off my neck. The kitchen was a mess, empty pizza boxes and beer bottles all over the counters, so I cleaned up quickly and left a note for my mom on the fridge before Sharon came back a couple of hours later, 'Out, will be home late, don't worry.'
As soon as I saw her, I knew we would be going to the goddamn Golf 'n' Stuff because she had made way more effort than me. Her hair was big and curled and she was wearing her favourite pink sweater. My protestations made no difference, and we were pulling into the busy parking lot just as the sun was going down soon enough.
"So, what do we do now?" She asked when we got out of the car and crossed to the lit-up building. Nearly everyone around us was from our school, I had no idea how it had become the place everyone went on the weekend.
"Stand around and wait for our future husbands I guess," I said sarcastically, "let's just get some food okay? I'm starving."
We found a free picnic table out front and Sharon waited there to hold it for us while I got in the long line for the food window. I couldn't stop the bad mood setting in, it just made no sense to me why standing around there and hoping someone came up to talk to us was supposed to be fun. I counted the crumpled up bills in my hand when I got to the window, triple checking I had enough money while the guy squirted mustard on my hotdog and ketchup on Sharon's.
When it was time to pay, I felt someone bump my shoulder and stand beside me. I looked up in irritation.
"Let me get that for you," Johnny smirked down at me and took a ten from his wallet, handing it to the cashier before I could protest. Not that I really wanted to protest, free food was free food.
"Uh, thanks," I said, surprised, and picked up the two cardboard trays.
"No problem, it can be your payment for tutoring me earlier," he was suddenly being nice again for some reason and I couldn't help being a little weary about it.
"Sure," I said and looked him over a second as we moved away from the window for the next person. He still had his red jacket on, but his hair was messier than it had been at school, shaggy around his ears, a black band around his forehead.
"I probably will call you tomorrow about helping me out again," he said quietly like he didn't want anyone who might be eavesdropping to hear, "I gotta pass that class."
"Alright," I said and wondered why he was still walking with me back to our table. He barely even registered Sharon when I set down our food and looked up at him with some expectation that he was going to say bye or something. It was a little awkward, really.
"Uh, you wanna come over and hang with me and the guys?" He gestured over his shoulder to where his bright red Firebird, almost the exact same colour as his jacket, was parked with the top down. There were three girls in the back whose names I didn't know but who I recognised were part of the popular clique, and the boys from his karate studio that always flanked him were either stuffed in the seats or leaning against it.
I glanced at Sharon who could clearly see she was being ignored and wondered if he'd even realised she was there or if he was purposely excluding her.
"I'm good, thanks for the hot dogs," I swung my leg over the picnic table seat and sat.
"Are you sure?" He leaned on the edge the table beside me and looked down with a little smile that I was sure did wonders with other girls. It was that he actually had his back to Sharon now, completely ignoring her, that solidified that going over there and being one of his groupies was the last thing I wanted to do.
"Yep, Sharon and I have other things to do after this," I said, making a point of looking at her. Johnny glanced over his shoulder at her then in slight recognition before standing up straight.
"Alright," he gave me a last look, "I'll call you."
I watched him walk away back to his car and noticed his friends looking at me, which made me feel a little embarrassed. When I turned back to Sharon she looked dumbfounded.
"Why did you say no?" She asked. I picked up my hot dog and took a big bite.
"You did notice he was only asking me, right?" I said through a mouthful, too hungry to have manners, "he's rude as hell."
"I wouldn't have minded," she shrugged and tucked into her own, always carefully trying to eat around her braces. That bothered me, that she wouldn't have minded. I didn't feel like causing an argument by saying anything, but I definitely would have minded if she'd abandoned me to talk to some hot idiot.
The more time we were there, I somewhat understood the attraction of going. We saw a few people we were friendly with around school and chatted for a while - a boy in my math class, Jesse, who made no secret about having a crush on me last year, sat beside me for a while. Our relationship was friendly enough, he was cute with his tan skin and dark curly hair, but I wasn't shy about telling someone I wasn't interested. He made a point of hugging us all when he left like I didn't know it was mostly directed at me, and I rolled my eyes at Sharon.
We picked up a couple of milkshakes, her treat, before we left.
"Can we please go smoke now?" I whined after a while had passed and we were sitting alone. "This is getting old fast."
"You don't want a game of mini-golf?" She asked, smiling as we cleaned up our food remains and tossed them in the trash.
"Maybe after we get high," I said and sipped my strawberry shake.
"Genius," she chuckled and we made our way back to the parking lot. Johnny's car was still there, all his buddies surrounding it. He was sitting behind the steering wheel with his foot up on the dash and I could tell he was looking at us as we walked by.
"Hey, Johnny was just talking about you," his friend Dutch slung his arm around my shoulder in an over-familiar way given we never spoke, guiding me over to the group of them.
"Good for him," I said before Johnny could say anything, just staring daggers at his laughing friend.
"You're not interested to know what he was talking about?" He raised his eyebrow as he looked down at me, glancing from my shoes up to my chest.
"It's real interesting," Bobby said from the passenger seat and they all laughed again. Being laughed at, or about, was not something I appreciated. Johnny batted his friend in the arm with the back of his hand but didn't say anything, which annoyed me even more.
"I'm sure it is," I ducked out from his arm, "I'm good though, thanks."
I went to walk away with Sharon but Dutch called my name.
"You sure you don't want to come hang out? This thing goes fast," he tapped the side of the car. Sharon reached out and squeezed my hand encouragingly. I considered them for a moment, I really did not want to go with them at all, they were acting like dicks. But I glanced over at Sharon and she looked so hopeful. She always wanted to get in with the popular crowd, I never really got it.
"Only if my friend can come," I said, once again aware she wasn't being addressed. They seemed to consider her for a moment.
"I guess, as long as those things aren't gonna get stuck in anyone's hair," Dutch pointed at her braces and laughed, they all laughed, and I didn't even have to look at my friend to know she was crushed. Hot anger went through me and I distinctly had the image in my head of kicking the Firebird's mirror off. It was that Johnny was laughing too that got me, when he had just been so nice, when he had just been asking me for a favour. I looked at him and his stupid smile and wanted to get up on the hood and kick the windshield in.
So I did the next best thing to criminal damage and dumped the entire milkshake in his lap, just let the cup fall out of my head and explode on the seat between his legs. His friends apparently thought that was the most hilarious thing they'd ever seen when he jumped in his seat from the cold as it covered his jeans and the front of his precious jacket.
"What the fuck?" He shouted, looking genuinely angry at me. That was fine, I was angry too.
"Enjoy failing all your classes, asshole," I put my hands on the side of the car when I snapped at him, feeling how bright red from anger I must've been, I looked at Dutch, really wanting to punch him, "and fuck you too." I settled for a shove instead.
I took Sharon's arm and led her away from them quickly, a chorus of laughs and jeers behind us as we beelined for the car. I wasn't entirely sure Johnny wouldn't chase me and demand I pay to clean his upholstery, so I was quick about getting in, taking her car keys and driving for her.
I didn't look at her until we were pulling out of the parking lot, my heart racing with anger and adrenaline. We'd been friends for years, I knew when she was trying not to look upset, fiddling with her fingers in her lap.
"Screw them," I said definitively, "screw them."
"It's not a big deal…" She said weakly and I scoffed in frustration.
"Sharon, stop it," I said firmly, "you can't just be okay with it when people talk to you that way. It is a big deal and they're fuckers."
She went quiet and I stayed quiet too, pissed off and upset on her behalf. While we were stopped at a red light, she opened up her glovebox and took out the little bag of pre-rolled joints we hid in there, putting it between her lips and lighting. Then she laughed out of nowhere and I knew it couldn't be the weed yet.
"What?" I asked, looking at her.
"You dropped your milkshake on Johnny Lawrence," she said, then laughed again, "you are so dead."
I couldn't help but break into chuckles too and took the joint when she handed it to me, taking a quick drag while I found somewhere quiet to pull in.
"Shit, maybe," I said, wondering how much that car cost, "did you see his face, though? Worth it."
Sharon wheezed out a laugh at the thought and I broke into giggles myself.
"Getting ice dropped directly on your dick cannot feel good," I said and she laughed harder, covering her face with her hands.
"He wasn't even the one who said it, you should've thrown it at Dutch," she pointed out as I turned off the road to a nice lookout point over the city and parked, "he's the biggest jerkoff of all of them."
I sighed and leaned back the chair so I could stretch my legs out, switching on her cassette player. Springsteen played through the speakers, pretty much the only album we'd listened to all year and never got sick of for a second.
"True, but I didn't sit with Dutch for two hours trying to explain Shakespeare to him today," I said, shaking my head still in disbelief that he'd just let his friend mock mine after that, "I mean, what a prick."
"Yeah," she finally conceded and took a drag, "what are you gonna do if he calls you and asks for more tutoring?"
"Uh-huh," I said sarcastically and rolled my eyes, "I can definitely see that happening now."
Chapter 2: Hottie with a Firebird
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
So, Johnny Lawrence must have been a bigger idiot than I thought, because the next day, Saturday morning, I had my mom calling me across our little one-story house that someone was on the phone for me. I left my bedroom in my pyjamas and found her standing in the kitchen, looking a little annoyed that she had been woken up, hair a mess and makeup smudged under her eyes. Hungover, definitely.
"It's a boy," she said, phone pressed to her chest and looking a bit amused, "he sounds cute."
"Great, I'll see if he wants to go out with you sometime," I whispered and she snorted and handed the phone to me, trudging back into her bedroom. I knew who it was before I put the receiver to my ear and considered just hanging up. Probably calling to rage about his car or his dry cleaning.
"Hello?" I answered and sat up on the kitchen counter.
"Hi, it's Johnny," well, he didn't sound like he was angry, his voice was quite soft, actually, "I uh… I was just calling to see if you were free to come over and help me study for this test today?"
I couldn't help but scoff, "You're kidding, right? Do you have short term memory loss or something?"
He sighed on the other end of the line.
"Dutch is an asshole, alright?" He said like that was a defence, "And I'm not mad about the whole milkshake thing."
"Oh , thank you ," I said sarcastically, "do you know how lucky you are that I didn't put my foot through your window?" He was making me mad again and we weren't even in the same room, "you and all your little jerkoff friends making fun of her… Does it make you feel good to do that? I should've smashed something on your car."
My ranting was cut off by the little breath of a chuckle I heard on the other end and my mouth actually dropped open. I glanced at my mom's bedroom door, aware that I couldn't yell like I wanted to.
"Are you seriously laughing at me right now?"
"No, no," he was laughing though, I could almost see his stupid face and his perfect teeth in my mind's eye.
"Okay, screw you, bye," I got off the counter to go to the phone on the wall and hang it up, but I heard his voice on the other end say, 'wait, wait!' and, against my better judgment, I put it to my ear again.
"Are you there?" He asked, not laughing now.
"Yes," I snapped.
I heard him sigh again and the receiver shuffle like he was sitting down.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay? You're right, we were being assholes," he said, "just… I really can't fail this test, Wilson is dying to flunk me. I need your help, I'll even pay you."
Honestly, that did prick my ears up; I hadn't had a job since the ice cream place I worked weekends at closed. All the money I had at that moment was what I could pull out of the couch since my mom was a waitress so we really weren't an 'allowance' type of family, either.
He could obviously hear me considering it, because he said, "10 for an hour?"
"30," I said, unable not to smile to myself.
"30!?" He repeated.
"You're not in a position to negotiate here," I pointed out, "you can ask somebody else who knows the material like I do within the next week…"
"Alright, Jesus," he said and I thought I could hear him smiling a bit, "what's your address? I'll pick you up."
Johnny was clearly in a rush because he told me he'd head over right away. I knew I had a little time to get ready, we lived on opposite sides of town. In my bedroom, I put on a pair of high waisted blue jeans and a black vest, ignoring the voice in my head that sounded like Sharon telling me to try a little harder if I was going to be hanging out with him. It was a stupid thought, him being good looking wasn't going to make me forget I didn't like him. Money was money, and I wanted a car.
I wrapped my hair up in a bun and put on a little makeup. My eyebrows were fair, like the rest of me, and had a tendency to barely show up in the bright light. I was just wrapping my hair into a bun and finding my sunglasses when my mom called that someone was there for me.
She was standing in the middle of the living room with a cup of coffee in her hand, looking out of the window.
"You've been keeping secrets from me," she said when I went in.
"Have I?"
"You didn't tell me you were dating a hottie with a Firebird. I'm proud of you," she bumped me with her hip and I looked out of the window too. Johnny was pulled up outside, top-down, one arm out of the car and tapping on the door. I couldn't deny it, he did look like a hottie, like something out of a magazine, in that car, in his white t-shirt, with that stupid black tie around his head.
"I'm tutoring him for an English test," I said, finding my school bag on the couch and slinging it on my shoulder.
"Is that what you're calling it nowadays?" She smirked, amused with herself, and I rolled my eyes and went for the door, "Wait."
She stopped me with my hand on the handle.
"You do have condoms, don't you hun? Because he'll tell you he doesn't like to wear one but-"
"Mom!" My face flushed red, her boundary skills had always needed work, "I'm seriously just tutoring him, he's a total jerk. I'll be back soon."
I didn't give her time to say anything else that would embarrass me, just left in a hurry and crossed the dried-out brown yard, putting on my glasses on the way. Johnny watched me sling my bag in the back seat and get in the passenger side. When I saw him raise his hand in an awkward wave, I looked over and saw my mom and the front door in her thick robe, waving.
"Oh Jesus, just drive," I looked straight ahead and slumped back.
"Okay," he did as he was told and pulled away down the street. There was an awkward quiet between us for a while, as he drove but I let it ride. It was his fault there was an atmosphere between us, not mine.
"Was that your mom, then?" He asked. Not the best conversation starter but I couldn't really think of much better myself.
"Yeah, she was amazed I had a boy picking me up," I said, trying to get comfortable in the seat.
"You've never had a boy pick you up before?" He asked, glancing over at me.
"Not ones who look like you driving cars like this," I said without thinking.
"Ones who look like me?" He asked, and he had a little smile on the corner of his mouth that he wasn't trying very hard to repress. I felt myself flush and was glad I had big black sunglasses on to somewhat hide it.
"You know," I glanced at his hand on the steering wheel and up the length of his arm which looked… Strong... "sporty." I shrugged nonchalantly.
"Right," he said and I pretended I didn't notice him smiling in a pleased-with-himself way in my peripheral vision. We drove into Encino Hills, which I was familiar with because of Sharon. It didn't surprise me that he lived there, even without his car and his clothes, he gave off rich boy vibes.
Still, when we arrived at his house and pulled up the long driveway, I could not believe how huge it was. We got out and I looked up at it, pushing my sunglasses up onto my head.
"Holy shit," I said, looking up at the white brick. It was literally a mansion. Sharon's house was nice, but this was ridiculous. Johnny didn't say anything, he just led the way up the front steps and through the front door into the large foyer. It was all hardwood floors and huge open space, with the kind of stairs that looped round so the landing overlooked the reception area.
I looked over towards the kitchen, trying not to appear as nosy as I felt like being, and saw a grand piano illuminated by some big open windows. Rich people actually had grand pianos in their houses, who would've thought? Johnny obviously noticed me staring and I made an effort to close my mouth when he smiled at me a bit with his hands in his pockets.
"No one's in right now, we could go for a swim," he nodded over his shoulder to the big glass doors that lead to a swimming pool. Honestly, it was a hot day, and that sounded great, but the last thing I wanted him to think was that we were somehow friends just because I was there.
"But all our books would get wet," I quipped and walked by him to the staircase, "I'm guessing your room is up here."
He sighed and followed me reluctantly, "Yeah."
It was mind-boggling how many rooms there were upstairs, you could've fit my entire house in his reception. Unsurprisingly, his bedroom was as huge as the rest of the place, with a big double bed and a plush beige carpet. It seemed almost too grand for a teenage boy, only the movie posters and the trophies identified it as something other than an adult's room. The shelving unit was against one wall and completely overflowing with trophies, some almost as tall as me. There were a few for other sports, but the vast majority were for karate.
I went to the shelves and looked over them while he collected his scattered books and set up on the big cushioned window seat that was more like a couch. They were all first place, the karate ones; it seemed he didn't settle for less. There was a framed picture of him and the other Cobra Kai's, some I recognised, some I didn't, in black, armless karate outfits, looking serious; I couldn't blame them, their teacher looked scary.
"You done snooping?" He asked, but he was smiling a bit when I looked at him.
"Yes, thanks," I said and went to him, sitting across from him on the window seat and crossing my legs under me. It was weird to think I'd thrown a milkshake at him just the night before.
"Okay, so, please tell me you've read at least some of it now," I said, laying out my notes and the book itself.
"I've skimmed it," he shrugged.
"Alright," I said, that was something, I supposed, "let's talk about it then."
Although I'd suspected he'd been lying when he told me he'd skimmed it, he actually did have a fairly good recall for the plot and characters when he started talking about it. I got him to try making notes like I did, colour coded so the points would stick in his head, trying to break down themes and characters. It was weird that he apparently struggled so much in class because I really didn't find it that hard to get him to understand certain things. Maybe Mr Wilson was just a crappy teacher.
There was a certain point I could tell he was getting bored though because he started giving monosyllabic answers and drawing on his paper.
"Johnny, come on," I complained.
"What? We've been doing it for like two hours, I'm getting it, aren't I?" He protested and started to untie his shoes, "Can't we take a break?" He toed them off so he could cross his legs under him comfortably.
"Alright," I conceded, getting a little bored myself, "I can just go if you want, if you think you're-"
"No, no," he said a little too quickly, then seemed to catch himself, "no I uh, there's still some stuff I'm not totally clear on, we can get back to it in a minute."
"If you say so," I said, and leaned back against the wall behind me.
I think he realized then that not talking about Shakespeare was a bit of a mistake given that we really did not have that much else to talk about. He tapped his hands on his calf and glanced out of the window, and it occurred to me that I'd never seen him look anything but completely sure of himself.
I decided to put him out of his misery, "So, how come you're rich?" I asked.
He snorted and looked at me, "You're not supposed to ask that, apparently," he said, "but my stepdad is like a big Hollywood guy."
"Oh, cool," I said, "do you ever get to meet anyone famous?"
"No," he shook his head, "he kind of likes to keep his work separate from us."
His adam's apple moved and he glanced down and I kind of got the impression he didn't want to talk about him.
"Do you have any siblings?" I asked, pretty sure that he didn't since it was a Saturday and the place was dead silent.
"No, just me," he said, "you?"
"Nope, thank god," I said with a little laugh.
"Why?"
"You saw our house, right? I've got no interest in sharing a room," I said self-deprecatingly.
"Yeah I was kinda surprised when you said you lived there," he said, clearly not noticing himself putting his foot in his mouth.
"Why's that?" I asked, cocking my head. He seemed to realise then, scratching the back of his head.
"You don't look like, you know…"
"Poor?" I asked, knowing that's what he was thinking, "Should I wear rags like a Victorian orphan?"
"Shit," I wondered if I was imagining the little blush colouring the tops of his cheeks, "I didn't mean it to sound like that."
"I know, I'm just messing with you," I said, uninterested in making him suffer, "can we get some food in your huge kitchen, please? I'm starving."
It was still incredibly weird being in his house, being around him at all, really. Almost like he was famous or something, which I really hated myself for buying into like everyone else. Sharon would die when I told her where I'd been all day, if she hadn't already called and been told by my mom I'd driven off with some blonde guy in a red Firebird. I leaned my elbows on his counter and watched him make us some peanut butter sandwiches.
"You were really mad last night," he said; I'd wondered if he was going to bring it up in person.
"Well yeah, Sharon's my best friend," I shrugged.
"I know," he said, licking some peanut butter off the tip of his thumb, "I don't blame you for going off, I just didn't know you had a temper. You'd make a great Cobra Kai if you were a guy."
"Well, I'll cut all my hair off and try out sometime," I quipped. It was quiet then, maybe because we were both thinking about the fact that we had yelled at each other just the night before.
I wished we were talking because when we were quiet all there was to do was stare at him, and staring at him was extremely distracting. He looked good in white, it made his skin look even more tan, and his t-shirt clung to the planes of his muscles of his chest and shoulders like he'd planned it that way. I rarely ever noticed that kind of thing, but I found myself watching how nice it looked when the tendons moved in his arms as he cut the bread in half.
Luckily, or unluckily, dependent on perspective, the front door opened and broke that train of thought. An older man in a suit came in with a woman who was a fair bit younger and obviously Johnny's mom. She was beautiful and blue-eyed, with familiar bright blonde hair flowing over her shoulders. Her dress was long and flowy, and expensive-looking and the kindness of her face was offset by the stern countenance of her husband beside her.
"Johnny, I didn't know you had a guest," she said brightly, looking at me.
"Yeah, this is Jenna, we're working on an English thing," he said, only half telling the truth, which telegraphed to me that he was not telling them how close he was to failing the class.
"Hi," I said with a smile and a small wave.
"What happened to 'Ali?'" His stepfather asked, "You after getting one in every hair colour?"
My cheeks went pink and I saw Johnny's face turn stony.
"Sid," his mother admonished quietly, "you know they broke up."
I laughed nervously, sensing an immediate tension in the room, "Yeah I'm not - I'm not Johnny's girlfriend or anything, we're just doing a Shakespeare thing…"
"Well it's nice to meet you, honey," she tapped my arm gently on her way past to kiss her son on the cheek, "do you two not want something a little healthier for your lunch? I can make you some-"
"They're fine," Sid said dismissively, "can't you tell he's in a hurry to get back upstairs with his girlfriend?"
Embarrassment flooded through me again and I wondered if his mom was going to say anything. She didn't, she just rubbed Johnny's arm like she knew he would be getting angry and kept a stoic silence.
"She just told you she isn't my girlfriend. Don't you listen?" He snapped.
"Who the hell do you think you're talking to, boy?" Sid's voice got a little dangerous and I was pretty sure I'd never felt so uncomfortable in my life. I half thought the guy was going to hit Johnny right in front of me.
"Come on, now," his mother said softly, "Jenna doesn't want to watch you boys argue."
Of course, it wasn't my place to say, but I thought she could've stood to be a little tougher on her husband than that. I picked up our two plates, desperate to get out of the room.
"Uh, I actually have to be home in a couple of hours so we better get back to it," I said, looking over at him, "you coming, Johnny?"
Johnny stared at his stepfather hard for a moment and the tension in the room could be cut with a knife, the weight of whatever was going on between them that I didn't understand hanging in the air. Eventually, he did come over to me and lead me out of the kitchen and back upstairs. I couldn't have been happier to be back inside his room and away from that atmosphere. They clearly did not like each other.
I noticed Johnny clenching and unclenching his fist and I didn't know him well enough to know what to say.
"Always got to goddamn try and embarrass me," he mumbled, closing the door behind us. He went to his bed and fell on his back, and I stood in the middle of the room, not really sure what to do.
"Eh, parents," I shrugged like I hadn't noticed how nasty the man had been. He had been deliberately trying to embarrass him, it was obvious, "they all have issues."
"The issue is the guy fuckin' hates me," he said simply, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was getting a headache. Again, I remembered that I had thrown a milkshake at him, and then I was standing there in his room, feeling actually sorry for him. He looked upset and I couldn't blame him, the guy had been a jerk for no reason.
With a sigh, I went and sat on the bed beside him, not too close.
"Do you like your dad?" He asked me out of nowhere. I swallowed and thought about it; it was an odd thing to talk to him of all people about.
"He was never interested in being part of my life," I said; it didn't really upset me that much now I wasn't a child anymore because it was hard to miss something I'd never had. It didn't come up now we were too old for parents' days and playdates.
"Really?" Johnny said and I messed with the rip in my jeans.
"Yeah, he was like a one night stand with my mom when they were super young. She told him she was pregnant and never heard from him again," I chuckled a bit at how ridiculous it sounded, "I think he lives in Canada now or something."
Johnny went quiet for a moment, clearly not knowing to respond.
"Sorry Sid embarrassed you," he said, looking up at me.
I shrugged and lied, "He didn't."
"He did," Johnny said, "you went all red."
As if on cue, I blushed again and looked away from him.
"Well, implying that I would ever date you is very offensive," I covered with a joke and he snorted and sat up beside me, looking slightly less annoyed.
"Thanks," he said sarcastically and nudged my arm with his elbow. We were quiet for a moment, long enough for me to realise that I was sitting on Johnny goddamn Lawrence's bed with Johnny goddamn Lawrence. Sharon would die if she could see me.
When I looked up at him, he was already looking at me, like really looking at me. He glanced down at my lips and then back up at my eyes and I felt pure panic go through me and stood up quickly from the bed.
"Almost forgot the sandwiches," I said, going to the window seat, all my skin hot and my pulse thrumming in my neck.
Johnny stayed sitting for just a second before he followed me.
"Uh-huh, yeah," he sat down across from me and picked one up, eating about half of it in one big bite. I tried not to laugh at how fast he ate, filling his cheek like a hamster when he chewed.
"Your mom seems nice," I told him honestly, wanting to lighten up the mood again and hoping we could both ignore there had potentially been a bit of a moment there. I chalked it up to him being upset and decided to leave it alone.
"She is," Johnny said and I could tell from the way he'd brightened up when he saw her that he loved his mom, "just bad taste I guess… Me and her both." He untied the black band from around his head like it was irritating him and dropped it on the floor, running a hand through his hair.
I frowned and took a bite of my own sandwich, "I don't think anyone would consider Ali Mills bad taste, Johnny."
He went quiet for a moment as if he was considering how much he wanted to talk to me about it.
"I'm not saying she's not pretty or anything," he said, and an unpleasant feeling turned over in my stomach that seemed to come from nowhere, "I really liked her… That's why I don't get why she can just dump me and mess around with some guy like two days later."
"Oh, I didn't know about that," I said, "we're not really friends."
"Well, yeah she did and I'm pretty sure they're together now or whatever," he bit into another sandwich, "so clearly she didn't really give a shit about me."
I considered him for a moment, he actually did look hurt.
"That's not necessarily true," I said, "just because she likes this guy doesn't mean she never liked you."
"Well she's sure acting like it," he said, sounding a little huffy, "she always judged me, I don't even know why I ever liked her."
I chewed my sandwich, not really knowing what to say. We weren't part of the same groups, I didn't know their relationship or what it was like.
"Well, that's good, I guess, better to feel like that than be upset about it if she's moved on," relationships, in general, weren't anything I could give much decent advice on, I'd never really been in one. I'd done stuff with boys, made out a lot and had sex twice, but never anything serious, never anything I would get genuinely angry or upset over.
"Right," he said and nodded, "you're right, screw her."
"That's not exactly what I was saying but fair enough," I said with some amusement and looked back over my notes, "shall we get back to the Bard?"
Johnny frowned "The who?" He asked through a mouthful of bread.
Notes:
So, like a lot of people, I've gone back to The Karate Kid lately and really noticed Johnny Lawrence a lot more. This story just poured out of me (five chapters already, actually), over the course of the last couple of days and I'm really enjoying writing it. Would hugely appreciate some comments so I'm sure I'm not only writing this for myself.
Thank you for reading!
3
Chapter 3: Blithe and Bonny
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
I went to Johnny's house almost every evening that week, except for the one day I insisted on hanging out with Sharon and could actually have sworn he sulked about it. It always went about the same, we would study for a while, eat junk food, and then he would inevitably coax me into doing something else like playing on his Atari for a while. I always protested for a bit, unconvincingly, but gave in eventually. He was very hard to say no to and I think he knew it, and honestly, he was fun to hang out with.
It was like there was this persona that he would switch on at school and then switch off when we were at home. He could be kind of goofy in a way I suspected a lot of people wouldn't believe.
At school, the Halloween party was all anyone was talking about and that included Sharon and me. People really went for it at our school and planned their costumes for weeks. Honestly, it was one of the few things I was actually willing to be childish about, Halloween, I loved it. I loved the movies and the costumes and the atmosphere, everything. Since we were senior's it was a known fact that the punch at the party would end up spiked and at least someone would end up passed out on the dancefloor. It was going to be on Saturday, the day after the English test, and I worried Johnny would be more focussed on that than studying. Then I noticed I was worried about him and tried to stamp that thought down with a steel-toed boot.
"You would look so good as Jessica Rabbit," Sharon said, fluffing the end of my red hair.
I laughed, "Yeah and get groped all night? Pass," I looked through my physics notes in my locker with a frown. I was more of an artsy person, anything too technical really had a tendency to fry my brain. "I don't even understand what this means anymore." I held the sheet up to her, she had a mind for that stuff, always had since we were kids.
"You've written it in a super complicated way, here," she had me turn around so she could rest the paper on my back and write on it, "ooh, you should get a blonde wig and a white dress, you'd look exactly like Marilyn."
"Not exactly," I chucked a bit but considered it; Marilyn could be fun. Marilyn with freckles. The wig would itch all night though, I knew that from experience.
The bell rang. I had a free period before my class but she had to rush off, " Shit , you'll do great!" She pushed the half-finished notes back in my hand and ran off, leaving me groaning in frustration. I probably wouldn't fail, but I would only just scrape a pass.
Next to me, a boy I didn't recognise with a nasty looking bruise over his eyebrow opened up his locker.
"Oh, I haven't had a locker buddy on that side for a while," I said.
"Oh yeah? I'm new," he said, "Daniel, just moved from New Jersey."
"Jenna and I can tell," I said in reference to his thick accent and he laughed a little and put away his books, "already managed to get into an accident?"
He reached up and touched his injury absentmindedly, "Yeah, yeah, something like that." He said noncommittally.
"You don't know anything about physics, do you?" I asked, putting away the useless notes; he seemed nice enough to joke around with.
"Not my speciality, sorry," he said with a smile, closing his locker.
I jumped a bit when a hand closed my locker for me above my head and I looked over my shoulder to see Johnny there, looking none-too-happy and scowling down at Daniel.
"What is your problem, kid?" He asked him like we weren't the same age, "One girl not good enough for you?"
"Hey man, we were just talking," he put his hands up defensively and I found myself completely arrested with shock, not quite understanding what was going on, "I didn't know, alright?"
"There's nothing to-" I was cut off my Johnny again.
"Yeah right, you just can't help girls falling all over you, right?" He mocked with an unpleasant smirk.
"I was just being friendly, Jesus," Daniel slammed his locker shut, and I began to get an awful idea of where that bruise might have come from.
"Well she's not interested in you being friendly, Larusso," Johnny seemed a lot bigger and scarier than he did the day before - he seemed like a whole different person, in fact.
"Forget it, man, forget it - nice to meet you," Daniel said quickly to me before walking away in a rush. I turned to face Johnny with an openly shocked look on my face, not even knowing what to say to him.
"What the hell is your problem?" I snapped when I found my voice, quietly enough so everyone wouldn't look at us.
"What? He's the guy dating Ali and now he's coming on to you too? He's a creep," he said defensively.
"He wasn't coming onto me for christ's sake we had a two-second conversation because his locker is right next to mine," I frowned deeply, " not that it's any of your business."
He looked at me for a long moment and I couldn't quite place his expression, bright blue eyes searching mine.
"None of my business?"
"Of course not!" I whisper yelled, chin lifted to look at him, "We aren't even friends , Johnny, you and your buddies were picking on my best friend two goddamn days ago."
"I apologised for that," he said, "and you - you came to my place - you never said you hated me."
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair in exasperation.
"I don't hate you, Johnny, I just don't know you that well," I said, "I especially don't know you well enough for you to be acting like that because someone talked to me, asshole."
"You don't know him, alright? He sucker-punched me at the beach, y'know?"
"Uh-huh, and what were you doing to him?" I crossed my arms, and got my answer when he didn't respond, glancing down at his shoes, "and I suppose that bruise on his face has nothing to do with you either."
" I didn't hit him," he said sheepishly and put his hands in his pockets like he was in trouble. That was a loaded statement, I knew, we both knew that any one of his fellow Cobra Kai's would happily punch someone on his behalf if he asked.
"Well, good for you," I said with a sigh, "I have to get to class."
Johnny caught me by the arm, gently, and got me to turn back and face him in surprise. He looked like he wasn't sure why he did it, or what he was going to say. I moved my arm out of his hold, not remotely feeling like having him touch me after that.
"Listen don't -" he licked his lips and ducked his head so he could talk to me more quietly, "I'm sorry, alright? That wasn't cool."
"No, it wasn't," I said, wishing I could just walk away from him like I would anyone else.
"You'll still tutor me, right?" He asked. I suspected he knew what he was doing when he looked at me with big, hopeful eyes.
"I will if you keep paying me," I said, straightening my bag on my shoulder, "can you just try to stop acting like an asshole, please?"
He smiled a little bit and bumped my arm with his, "I'll try my best." He actually winked before he left and I rolled my eyes that he thought that was enough to get him out of trouble.
It was only when he walked away that I realised how many people were looking at me and barely bothering to pretend like they weren't. I whispered a curse to myself and adjusted my bag on my shoulder before heading to the next class.
The physics test was brutal and I left not feeling great about it. No amount of studying could ever make it fully make sense to me and I felt like I would be lucky to even get a D at that point. Sharon met me after the class. Somehow, it had gotten all the way to her that I'd been seen talking to Johnny Lawrence in the courtyard and we had been standing very close. One person even swore they saw us kiss, but that was debated.
"This school is psychotic," I complained, "turning an argument into a makeout session."
"There are worse things for people to think you've done," she said as we made our way down a staircase and out of the building.
"I don't know about that," I smirked and she chuckled.
"Is loverboy taking you home today?" She asked when we got outside, heading in the same direction as everyone else to the parking lot.
"Please don't call him that but yes," I said, "well, taking me to his place."
"I know, I was just messing with you, he's right there," she said and pointed towards the edge of the parking lot where Johnny stood leaning against his bike without his usual posse surrounding him. It was just him and Bobby and I could see him looking for me.
"Oh Jesus, his motorbike?" I groaned and went over to him with Sharon. "Where's your car?" I asked.
"At home," he said, acting like he didn't know what the problem was but terrible at hiding his grin, "hey Sharon."
I think we were both surprised that he said hello to her, and she took a second to respond.
"Hi," she said.
"Do you need a ride? Bobby can take you," he said, gesturing to his friend. It was kind of funny to me that he would just offer that on his behalf and know that his friend would do as he was told.
"I have my car," she said, "I think I'd be a little scared to be on one of those."
"They're not so bad," Bobby said, "we're definitely bringing them to the Halloween party, scare the shit out of people on the way."
Sharon laughed more than I did at that and Johnny looked a little embarrassed.
"What are you going as on Saturday?" Johnny specifically asked Sharon, but he glanced at me as if to see if I'd noticed. Proving he was capable of not being a dick, I supposed.
"Uh, I don't know yet, maybe Madonna," she shrugged and then checked her watch, " shit- "
"Piano lesson," I said, knowing her schedule as well as she did, "hurry, she'll bite your head off."
I noticed Bobby watch Sharon go and made a mental note to mention that to her. He pulled away not long after on his loud bike and Johnny looked at me expectantly, holding a spare helmet up that he'd obviously specifically brought for me.
"I'm scared," I admitted and pulled my hair out of its scrunchie, shaking it loose around my shoulders. I noticed him watching me, his eyes following my hair as it moved and I felt warm under the attention.
"Just hold onto me," he said and mounted the seat, pulling on his own helmet, "I'll protect you."
I quickly pulled on my helmet to cover my blush and reluctantly swung my leg over the seat behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, which was a weird sensation. If people were talking before, they definitely would be now.
Johnny tugged on my wrists to pull my arms tighter around him.
"You gotta really grab if you don't wanna fall off," He laughed a bit, and again I was very glad most of my face was covered up. As soon as the bike got off the parking lot and on the road I really did feel like I was going to fall, and I found myself squeezing my knees into the outside of his thighs and pressing my face against his back as much as I could.
I could feel him laughing at how tightly I gripped when he picked up speed, especially when we got up into Encino Hills where the roads were smoother and longer. When I got used to it some and finally dared to open my eyes I kind of understand why he liked it. It was quite exhilarating to see the buildings whip past, weave through cars stuck in traffic and feel the air on your skin, but the sensation that I could slip off the seat at any moment never really went away.
When we finally pulled in at his house, I was breathless, both glad and a little disappointed that it was over.
"Oh my god," I said, taking off the helmet while he did the same.
"Good, right?" He grinned over his shoulder at me and got off, then held out his hand to help me do the same. I took it, trying not to overthink that it felt kind of nice to take his hand, and straightened out my jeans when I got off.
"It was fun but I'd still take the Firebird any day," I admitted, following him up the front stairs, slipping my hand from his and wondering if he'd noticed that he hadn't let go.
"Eh," he made a noise of disagreement, "I think I prefer the bike as long you're on it," he said as he unlocked the front door, and I couldn't take that as anything other than openly flirtatious. Usually, my instinct would be to say something back, either flirt as well or call him out for doing it, anything to knock him off balance.
But it made me nervous, the idea of flirting with him, and it was crazy-making because I was still unsure if I even liked him as a person. So I left it alone and followed him into the house. He told me to go up to his room while he got snacks from the kitchen and I set us up on the window seat again, still pretty much in awe of his place.
I wondered what he would think of my house. One-story, tiny, a mess if I wasn't there to clean it up. Could he resist being judgmental? Would he say something mean? I would've been hurt if he did but not embarrassed, my mom wasn't perfect, but she did try, she gave me the best she could manage.
His room was a little messy, which did remind me of home. I instinctively picked up the books scattered on the floor and moved the Converse I almost tripped over. My mom was the same way, dropping things wherever she felt like and leaving them there. I went to his bed, barely thinking, and straightened up the comforter. It was when I moved the cover that I saw something sticking out from under his pillow and pulled it out, which was incredibly nosey, but I had barely realised I was doing it, in my defence.
"Oh shit," I whispered and covered my mouth when I laughed; it was a magazine, Hustler or something, still open on a picture of a red-headed girl with huge fake boobs and pale skin, hair in pigtails and dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz but, of course, totally naked apart from the sparkly red shoes and the ribbons in her hair. I shoved the magazine away like it had burned me and ran to the window, desperately trying to stop the gasping laughs leaving me that I'd found his porno mag and that he'd been so terrible at hiding it.
He came into the room, somehow balancing a plate of sandwiches, chips, a box of twinkies, a big bottle of soda and two cups. He kicked the door shut behind him and I tried my best to fix my face straight, desperately trying to get the picture out of my head of him in that bed a few feet away from us… enjoying that magazine.
"There's no way you eat this stuff all the time," I said, thinking about how hard his abs had been under my forearms on the way here, which didn't help matters.
"I don't tell my Sensei about it but yeah, I do," he kicked off his sneakers and got comfortable across from me, "I've always been able to eat whatever I want."
"Well you're lucky," I said and took a twinkie out of the box, "this will have me looking about 5 pounds fatter tomorrow."
"Shut up," he protested, "you -" he cleared his throat, "no you won't."
I ate it anyway and drank some of the soda he poured out. It started to feel, as we got talking about the play, that he might not really need me there. He wasn't giving college-level responses or anything, but I would've been very surprised if he failed given how quickly he'd seemed to grasp it. He wasn't stupid, really, not all the time anyway. Still, I wasn't in any rush to leave, not yet. We read it out loud to each other a little, to help remember the quotes, and he mumbled all his lines, embarrassed that I was making him do it. Honestly, the whole exercise was more to make me laugh than to help him out.
"You must be able to deliver it better than that," I teased, opening the window to let a breeze in.
"I'll try harder if you do the accent for Beatrice," he said with a challenge in his voice.
I snorted and picked up the book, clearing my throat, "Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, be thee blithe and bonny…"
Johnny laughed at my terrible posh British accent and I broke then as well, snorting and putting the book down. Hadn't I been mad at him about something earlier? It was hard to remember.
"So, what would you say if Mr Wilson asked you that same question he asked the other day, about gossip?"
"I'd say, blah blah blah, misunderstandings form the basis of whatever, do you want to get in the pool?" He smiled in amusement at himself.
"I don't think you'd want to see Mr Wilson in a bathing suit," I said, not humouring him.
"Come on… We've done a little studying, my legs are aching from sitting," he leaned forward on his knees towards me, "it's heated, like getting in a bath."
That did sound really good, actually. But I actually didn't have anything to wear.
"I don't have a swimsuit," I said, mirroring him.
"Even better," he joked and laughed when I batted his arm with my hand. Clearly, he was in the mood to be a flirt that day, I tried not to take it too seriously, "wait here." He got up before I could protest and left the room in a hurry, leaving me to sit there and wait. I decided not to go snooping again, lest I find anything else I shouldn't.
He was back soon enough, with a green bathing suit in hand.
"My mom says you can borrow this, she hasn't worn it for years," he said and handed it to me.
"I can't borrow this off your mom," I said, acting like it was because it seemed rude and not the truth, that his mom was pretty skinny and I was not; I wasn't fat , but I wasn't skinny either. Built sturdy, my mom said, like that was anything a girl wanted to hear.
"She doesn't mind," he said with a bright smile, "you can use the bathroom to change."
I could see there was no getting around it, and it was hard to argue with him when he was beaming like that. It was ridiculous, really, that I was suddenly the type of girl that could be convinced by some nice teeth and bright blues.
As I suspected, the thing fit, but only just, and the tops of my breasts were way more exposed than I usually liked them to be. I hoped to god Johnny's mom or stepdad didn't actually see me on the way down to the pool. I kind of hoped Johnny wouldn't see me, somehow, walk around with his eyes shut or something.
I looked myself over in the mirror and moved my hair over my shoulder. I had the same insecurities with my body that any girl might have: I was pale, I had fat on my belly and arms, cellulite on my thighs, but I didn't hate it like I had when I was 14 and it all started changing. I distinctly remembered how upset I'd been when one summer I suddenly had breasts and stretch marks, and my mom told me it was normal and I would get used to it. She also told me I should feel lucky to have big boobs, that girls would kill for that, which had made me feel not one bit better.
Thinking about that stuff, examining my body so closely, wasn't helping. The swimsuit looked good on me, though I turned around to see just how much of my buttcheeks were exposed.
"Stop overthinking it," I told myself in the mirror, "stop it."
If it were any other person I was getting in the pool in front of I wouldn't overthink it so much, but this was Johnny. Not only had he been flirting with me, making me nervous, but he also didn't have one flaw in his physique.
I cursed and left the bathroom, feeling strange walking through his house so underdressed. Thankfully, there was no one around when I went down the stairs and headed for the big glass doors to the back. Johnny didn't hear me step onto the tile on bare feet, and I couldn't help looking at him for a moment.
He had clearly already been in the pool, his hair wet and pushed back from his face. His tan skin actually glistened and I would not have been surprised to see him on one of Sharon's posters on her wall. Shoulders broad, stomach completely flat and as solid as he felt when I had my arms around him on the bike; I almost didn't want to catch my reflection in the water and notice everything not-perfect about myself again.
" Fuck ," I whispered to myself, I couldn't help it. He might have actually been the best-looking person I'd seen in real life.
Johnny finally noticed me when I padded to the water's edge and I deliberately didn't look at him. I didn't want to see him appraising me like I just was him, I was pretty sure it would completely crush me to see anything negative on his face when I felt so exposed.
I lowered myself into the water and ducked under straight away to wet my hair and get it away from my face. It did feel amazing, the warm water, I wondered if he knew how lucky he was to just have it whenever he wanted. When I swam to the edge where he was and popped my head out, he was still standing there and he looked down at me with a look on his face I couldn't place.
"Are you getting in?" I asked, treading water since it was too deep for me to stand. I could swear I saw him swallow deeply before nodding and jumping in right beside me, splashing water all over my face, some going up my nose.
I laughed and swam away from him a little, and he sprung back up grinning and whipped the wet hair away from his face.
"Warning next time," I said, sniffling.
"Where's the fun in that?" Johnny seemed to have no trouble standing where my feet were nowhere near the ground and he noticed me bobbing up and down, chin just out of the water, "You drowning there?"
" No ," I protested, already seeing where that was going, "I can swim, I'm just short." I started to swim for the shallower end, but he caught me around the middle and pulled me against his side.
"No, don't worry, I'm lifeguard certified," he was smirking and pointedly not looking at my annoyed expression as he pulled me through the water, "don't panic, miss."
"I wasn't," I said, and moved away from him, fighting off a smile, and ducked under the surface again, making a point of swimming to the other side of the pool.
When I popped up, I expected to look back and see him there grinning at me, but I didn't. I only had a couple of seconds of confusion before he came up under the water behind me and caught me around the waist. I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually screamed but I did, catching his shoulders for support when he lifted me clear out of the water. That didn't help me though, he tossed me over his back so I dunked underneath, water going up my nose yet again.
I popped out, chlorine stinging my eyes, and whipped my hair out of my face.
"You're dead, Lawrence," I said over his laughs and reached for him blindly, "dead!"
I wiped my eyes off but he was already swimming away, of course way faster than I could, and he was at the other side of the pool in no time. I didn't even bother chasing him, I just sighed and held up my hands.
"You win!" I called to him.
We swam around for a while, just enjoying the water. I did front flips and handstands and he would get out and jump in a lot, like a kid, to see how big a splash he could make. Eventually, I saw him sitting at the side of the pool, just his calves in the water and swam over to him with my mouth submerged but my nose out.
He hummed the Jaws theme and made me chuckle, and I swam up to him and rested my arms on the tile beside him instead, squinting against the sun.
"You look deep in thought," I said, "which is weird for you."
He snorted and nudged me with the side of his leg, "Shut up," he said, "just thinking about this shit with LaRusso… You really think I'm being an asshole?"
"Honestly? Yes," I told him straight, not seeing the point in sugarcoating it if he was asking me.
Johnny sighed and leaned back on his hands like he was annoyed with my answer.
"Look, think about it: as far as he's concerned, he met a cute girl at the beach, flirted with her, and her ex-boyfriend came out of nowhere and started messing with him because of it," I said and put my hand up when he started to talk, "and I don't want to hear about him sucker-punching you, alright? You started it and you know it. I would've punched you too."
Johnny lowered himself into the water next to me and bent so his shoulders were submerged, still looking thoughtful.
"I just think if you're mad at Ali for moving on so quick… That's not his fault," I said and then steeled myself for the next thing I was going to say because I really didn't want to say it. It was silly, but I felt like his answer had the potential to feel like a gut punch.
"... And if you're trying to get her back I don't think picking on him is the right way to do it."
"I don't want her back," he said quickly, looking at me, "I did before, when I saw them on the beach, but I don't now."
"What's changed in a week?" I asked, a little amused that he was talking like this had all happened over months.
Johnny just looked at me for a moment and then shrugged and ducked his head under the water again to wet his face.
"Breath-holding contest," he said, completely changing the subject.
"Okay," I said, going with it, "I'm really good though."
After messing around for a little while longer, we finally got out when our fingers were shrivelled and pruny. I noticed Johnny looking at me that time when I got out of the water and saw his chest move with a deep breath. Quickly, I got the beach towel wrapped around me and pretended I hadn't noticed.
I dried off and redressed in his bathroom, my hair wet and frizzy from the chlorine, I wrung out the swimsuit the best I could over the bath and insisted Johnny let me put it in the laundry myself. That became another thing I was amazed about, a whole room just for the laundry. Johnny did not know how to use the machine.
"We're going back on the bike, yeah?" Johnny smirked on the way out, though I saw him get his car key out of the bowl in the foyer.
" No ," I said and put my wet hair over my shoulder, "my hair can dry off if you drive with the top down."
In the car, Johnny put Born to Run in his cassette player and I smiled to myself because he'd clearly remembered when I told him it was my favourite album. I wondered if he'd even bought it just because of that, I hadn't seen it in his car before.
I was keenly aware on the ride home that I really did not want to end our day just yet, but I couldn't think of any reason to keep it going. We'd done our studying, he let me swim in his pool, that was that.
After Friday, after the test, there would be no excuse at all.
The thought made me so sad it was jarring, and I watched the city whip by and pointedly tried not to look at him. It had literally been days ; I did not understand how my feeling about him could change so quickly and I wished to god I could think of any word other than 'crush.' He handed me my 30 for the day and I slipped it in my pocket.
"See you at school," I said when we pulled up outside my house.
"Uh-huh," he nodded, appearing on the edge of saying something else but the words never coming.
"Okay then," I said a little awkwardly and got out, pulling my bag with me, "bye."
I resisted the urge to look back at him when I crossed my front yard. I could still hear his car idling behind me as he watched me inside like a gentleman.
"Jenna," he called when I was at the door, and I turned back to look at him, "you know you look killer in a swimsuit, right?
I barely had time to scoff before he peeled out, and I got the distinct feeling of a boy pulling my pigtails and running away.
Notes:
We're flirtingggg.
Thank you for the positive feedback, it's so lovely to read.
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Chapter 4: High School Famous
Notes: