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Chapter Text

Grade 2

Age: 7

Location: school bus

Johnny Cade hated taking the school bus for multiple reasons. It was smelly. The seats were always full and it was always loud. And the Soc kids, who sat at the back of the bus always tormented him. He tried to sit as close to the front as possible, but so did every other greaser kid who rode the bus with him. It didn’t help he was one of the last kids to get picked up either and the only seats left were near the back. But he knew what the other greaser kid’s thinking was: it was better for it to be him that got tormented and not them, so they made sure it really was him getting tormented and not them.

He didn’t really hold it against them. He didn’t know if he would have the strength to sit in the seats near the back if he got picked up earlier and knew that he was going to be tormented if he did. But that didn’t make it any easier and that didn’t make him enjoy riding the bus any more or less than he already did. And they made fun of him for everything: his clothes, his hair, the way he flinched when they moved too fast, the way he looked like he was going to cry when that happened too.

In theory, he could walk to school, but not during the winter. Not when it started getting so cold. And it was already nearing the end of November. Two weeks until Christmas lights started going up and Christmas music would be played in every store. And with all of that came cold. Tulsa didn’t get as cold as some places did, but Johnny wasn’t good at handling cold. He could handle cold less than the Soc kids’s tormenting. And, besides, if he didn’t, one of the other kids would get tormented in his place. So he took the bus instead.

His bus stop was just the corner his house was on and he could always see the bus coming from down the street. But he always heard it before he saw it. It was old and didn’t have a muffler and on a vehicle that big, everyone could tell. Today was no exception and he turned his gaze from the toe of his shoes scuffing the frozen ground to the end of the block to his left, near Ponyboy’s house. He watched The bus let Sodapop and Darry Curtis on before cruising on down the street and stopping in front of his house, the doors swinging open as it did and Johnny flinched as it happened.

The bus driver didn’t look at him as he stepped on and the bus itself didn’t exactly go silent when he stepped on, but the conversations quieted and Johnny could feel every single pair of eyes on him. Sodapop and Darry were his friends, but they always sat together and he didn’t want to sit next to them and subject them to the Soc kids’s tormenting anyway. He didn’t look at them or anyone else as he walked down the aisle to the first empty seat and instead stared at his shoes. As usual, the seat was near the back. Johnny continued to look at no one as he sat down, but he could feel the poison in the Socs stares. He was certain if he looked up they would be leering at him.

He sank slowly into his seat, letting his backpack fall to the floor next to him. He’d learned not to let it sit on the seat next to him. The Soc kids had taken it once and thrown it out the window. They’d also taken it another time and dumped all of his stuff out of it, throwing it around the bus. Sodapop and Darry had helped him gather up what was left of his things after they got off the bus, making all of them late for class. But after that he hadn’t put it next to him on the seat anymore and it seemed if it wasn’t easy access, the Soc kids didn’t seem to care.

“Hey Johnnycake!” said a taunting voice from behind him.

Johnny said nothing. His hands were squeezed between his knees. He stared at them, not acknowledging the voice or who it belonged to at all. Sometimes that worked and they went away.

But most of the time it didn’t. Today was one of those days.

Besides. He didn’t like anyone calling him Johnnycake. Not unless it were the gang.

“Hey Johnnycake!” the kid said again. He was leaning over the top of his seat. Johnny didn’t look up at him. The kid picked at his clothes and Johnny flinched. The kid laughed. “You never wear anything except this stupid jacket? Don’t you got anything else?”

Johnny squeezed his eyes shut tight for a moment and swallowed hard, pulling his shoulders up towards his ears as he did so. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Why couldn’t they just go away? He’d never done anything to them and yet they did this every day.

“Of course he don’t got anything else,” another one of the kids said somewhere to his left. “He’s just a greaser. They ain’t got money for...anything.”

The other Soc kids around him snickered. Even if he’d wanted to reply, he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to. It wasn’t like they were entirely wrong. The only part they were missing was how his parents didn’t get him clothes unless it was absolutely necessary.

The kid behind him started flicking his ears, then hitting him on the head with a pencil. Johnny swallowed again and squeezed his eyes shut, his shoulders hiked up again. He tried to ignore it, but the kid’s laughter and torment reminded him of his mother and that was worse. His heart sped up and his breathing quickened. His fingers curled and his short nails dug into his palms.

“Hey, why don’t y’all pick on someone your own size?”

Johnny opened his eyes instantly as someone sat down in the seat next to him. He glanced at them with only his eyes and recognized the form of Dallas Winston. He was frowning at the Soc kids, his arms crossed over his chest. Johnny still couldn’t see the kids behind him, but he could just barely see the kids in the seat across from them and they looked stunned. And angry.

“Mind your own business, greaser,” the kid in the seat behind him said.

“Johnnycake is my best friend,” Dally said without hesitation. “This is my business.”

“Then you wanna take what he’s takin’?” the kid asked. He sounded vicious.

But Dallas only laughed. “Yeah, I’d like to see you try to do that to me.”

The Soc kids hesitated. It wasn’t often someone stood up to them. In fact, Johnny wasn’t sure it had ever happened. They were quiet for a minute. Then Johnny saw something out of the corner of his eye, but before the kid could even touch Dallas, Dally’s fist flashed out the kid was crying before Johnny had turned to see what happened. The kid was clutching his nose, blood running between his fingers. Johnny looked at Dallas with wide, scared eyes, but Dallas was grinning at him, his arms already crossed back over his chest.

“What’d you do?” Johnny asked, his voice only loud enough for Dally to hear.

Dallas only grinned and replied, “Hurt him first.”

The other kids were too busy making sure their friend was okay to pay attention to them.

The minute they got to school, the Soc kids practically ran off the bus to the first teacher they saw and told them how Dallas had punched their friend. To Johnny’s surprise, they didn’t accuse him as well. Probably because they would have had to admit why Dallas punched them in the first place.

A pair of teachers came over and grabbed Dally by the arms as soon as he got off the bus with Johnny at his side and Johnny watched as they dragged him away to the principal’s office.

He tried to get away at first, punching the teachers the same way he’d punched the Soc kid, but more teachers came and finally one grabbed him by his arms and held them behind his back.

Soda and Darry were nearby shouting at them not to hurt him, he was just a kid. But Johnny wasn’t worried about him the way they were.

He seemed to be the only one to notice Dallas was laughing the entire time.

Chapter Text

Grade 4

Age: 9

Location: Willow Creek Elementary School bathroom

Ever since Johnny had first started smoking, he’d found he wanted to do it all the time, every chance he got. So he did. He discovered quickly that other greaser kids who smoked did it in the bathrooms, under the bleachers, or behind the school. The bathrooms were always the best bet, however, they were also dangerous. If the Soc kids caught you smoking in there, they’d beat you up. For whatever reason, they hated smokers. Maybe it was because Socs just didn’t smoke. Johnny thought that was still a dumb reason to beat someone up. But the bathroom was the most accessible during breaks, during lunch, or even during recess, so that was where Johnny tended to go. Even with the risk. The other places were patrolled by teachers and if a teacher found him smoking, his parents would find out. That would be worse – much worse – than being beaten by one of the Soc kids.

The bell rang for the end of school and he immediately turned to the right out of his classroom, walking quickly with his hands in his pockets, his head down, to the bathroom. Technically, he wasn’t even supposed to be in the boys bathroom, but he had hidden the fact he hadn’t been born a boy very well. So well no one knew except the gang.

And he was trying to keep it that way.

He pushed the bathroom door open with one hand. He kept his eyes on the ground until he pushed his way into a stall and locked it behind him. He pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket with shaking fingers. He pulled out his matchbook out of his other pocket and pulled one off the ground. He struck it and lit the cigarette. He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath in, bringing smoke into his lungs with the air. He blew it out threw his eyes and, just like magic, the shaking in his hands vanished along with the tension in his shoulders and neck. He leaned his head against the right wall of the bathroom stall.

For a moment, he was able to forget everything.

This was why he enjoyed smoking. It allowed him to relax. Even if it was temporary, even if he had to sneak into the bathroom and risk the violence of the Soc kids or getting caught by the teachers outside, it was worth it. It allowed him to forget about things, if only for a moment. Like his parents, like Dallas being gone. Mostly Dallas being gone.

And besides, the rest of the gang smoked too. Most of the time he was in here with them, but none of them smoked as much as he did. Soda didn’t smoke at all, but Two-Bit did and so did Darry and Steve and they often all snuck into the bathroom together in the morning before class started to smoke. Sometimes the Soc kids found them, but Darry was older and bigger than most of them. They weren’t usually bothered when Darry was there.

Without warning, there was a bang as someone kicked the door of the stall making Johnny jump up instantly, his eyes flying open as he did so. He only barely managed to keep hold of his cigarette between his fingers as he jumped. His heart jumped instantly into his throat as he realized the Soc kids were outside the door.

“You ain’t supposed to smoke inside, greaser!” the kid who’d kicked the door shouted.

“Come out, you little freak!” another one of them shouted. “And we’ll go easy on you.”

For some reason, later Johnny would never fathom why, he believed them. He shoved the pack of cigarettes back into his pocket along with his matchbook. He put out the cigarette he was smoking by licking his fingers and closing them over the cherry. He even flushed the cigarette down the toilet, thinking that might be a show of good faith, but the minute he unlocked his stall door the one standing right outside it punched him on the jaw as hard as he could.

Johnny spun and fell to the ground. He flung his hands out and catch himself before his face could smash into the tiled floor of the bathroom. He blinked away the black spots that had appeared on his vision after the Soc kid hit him. Or tried to anyway. A moment later the same kid was kicking him in the ribs and he grimaced, gritting his teeth together so hard it hurt to keep himself from crying out. He curled in on himself.

“Grab him!” he heard the Soc kid shout. “I wanna see him eat one! And then flush the rest down the drain!”

“Too bad we can’t flush him down the drain too,” one of the other kids replied.

“He belongs down the drain,” another added. “He’s trash.”

One of them grabbed him, pulling him to them. He didn’t see which one and he never did because at that exact moment the bathroom door swung open again.

Johnny was terrified for a moment it was a teacher. He’d much rather give up his cigarettes to the toilet than have a teacher catch them. Then his parents would be called. If his parents were called, he was screwed. He’d be in for it tonight. He started shaking at the thought, wishing that he hadn’t flushed down the cigarette he’d been smoking, wishing even more he hadn’t opened the stall to begin with. Why had he ever believed the Soc kids? They always lied.

“What’s goin’ on here?”

Johnny snapped open eyes he hadn’t even realized he’d closed and they all turned to look towards the person who had entered the bathroom. Johnny almost laughed with relief.

It was Two-Bit.

He had a bottle of something in one hand. Johnny wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but it had to have been booze of some kind, since it was in a paper bag. As he watched, Two-Bit brought it to his lips and took a swig. He was only two and a half years older than Johnny, but they were greasers. Drinking and smoking at early ages were part of their life.

“None of your business,” the Soc kid replied before Johnny could. “Get lost unless you want us to take that booze out of your hide next.”

To Johnny’s great surprise Two-Bit shrugged and said, “Sure. Go ahead and try it.”

The Soc kids looked at each other. The one holding Johnny’s grip loosened slightly.

“Well, go get him!” the kid who’d kicked Johnny’s stall door shouted.

It was only then he realized there were only three Soc kids. Two against three were better odds, he thought, than one against three.

One of the kids holding him let him go and approached Two-Bit. He ran at him with his fist raised, but Two-Bit moved quickly. He hit him in the ribs as he came at him and the kid dropped. Johnny’s eyes widened. He’d heard Darry talk about how Two-Bit was good in a rumble, but it was only now he was seeing why. He was quick and strong.

Two-Bit’s success gave Johnny a strength he didn’t know he had and he managed to wrench himself out of the grip of the other Soc kid. He brought his foot up between his legs, kicking him in the crotch. The second Soc kid dropped and Johnny quickly moved across the bathroom, so he was closer to Two-Bit than the last Soc kid. Two-Bit automatically moved so he was in front of Johnny.

The last Soc kid, the one who had kicked Johnny’s stall door, didn’t do anything. He just stared at them both surprised. Two-Bit watched him warily for a moment before he said, “Let’s go, Johnnycake.” And they both turned and darted out of the bathroom.

It wasn’t until they were out of the school and headed home Two-Bit laughed.

Johnny looked at Two-Bit surprised, the bruise that was forming on his jaw throbbed.

“I didn’t think you were gonna kick him in the crotch,” Two-Bit finally said.

Johnny smiled then, turning slightly red and looking away.

Two-Bit clapped a hand on Johnny’s shoulder still laughing. Johnny flinched at first, but soon he was smiling too and then he was even laughing a little bit.

It was the most he’d laughed since Dallas had left.

“I didn’t think I was gonna either,” he finally replied.

Two-Bit only shook his head and slung his arm over Johnny’s shoulders. “I ain’t gonna let them treat you like that, Johnnycake,” he said. He didn’t say anything else, but Johnny got what he meant.

Dallas was gone now. He’d usually looked after Johnny.

Now they all had to pick up the slack since he was gone.

Johnny gave a tight lipped smile and wondered if anyone could protect him the way Dallas had.

He didn’t think so.

Chapter Text

Grade 6

Age: 11

Location: behind Willow Creek Elementary School

When Johnny stepped outside and a Soc to his left immediately pushed him hard enough to make him fall, his things scattering every which way, he felt that he should just expect this kind of behavior from them by now. For the last several weeks, the Socs had been waiting for him outside the entrances and exits to the school, ready to push him, punch him, trip him, and then steal his things.

Today the only things he’d been carrying were a couple of textbooks, notebooks, and a pencil bag. Everything else was in his backpack, which was on his back, but as his other things went flying, the Soc that had pushed him immediately stopped laughing. Johnny heard others join in as he tried to blink the stars that had appeared in front of his vision when he’d smacked his head against the ground and grit his teeth hard as he realized he was outnumbered.

“God, he’s so ugly!” one of the other Socs said. It sounded like one of the girls.

“All fags are ugly,” one of the other Socs said, this one definitely a guy.

Johnny froze at those words.

All fags are ugly. He knew what that word meant. But...how did they know he liked boys?

He’d realized he liked boys and not girls not very long after Dallas left. He had dreams about Dallas, dreams he told no one else, but that he thought about later when he was alone in his bedroom or the vacant lot late at night. But he realized now maybe he didn’t have to tell anyone about those dreams for them to be able to see right through him. He wondered what might have given him away. Looks he shared with other boys? Looks he gave other boys he thought were cute? The way he behaved around the gang? Whatever it was, he wished he knew so he could stop himself from doing it again.

“What’re you gonna do to him, David?” he heard the girl ask.

Johnny kept his face turned away from them, hoping that if he didn’t look at them, if they thought he was scared of them, they would leave him alone.

He wasn’t sure why since it never really worked.

“I’m gonna beat the shit out of him,” the Soc replied. “And show him what fags deserve.”

The other Socs laughed again. Johnny shuddered and flinched. He saw their shadow looming over him as they started towards him and then another shadow came out of nowhere and knocked the first one aside. He heard a collective gasp from the Socs and turned to see what had happened.

“What the hell?” one of the girls shouted into the silence that followed.

“That’s what I should be askin’ you,” the assailant replied.

It was Darry Curtis. He was older than the Socs by four years and much bigger than they were. They all seemed to cower when he stepped in front of Johnny, his hands curled into fists. Johnny couldn’t see his face, but he was willing to bet his brows were drawn together and he was baring his teeth while frowning. He knew Darry well. He knew all of the gang well.

“Who the hell are you?” the girl asked as though Darry had never spoken at all.

“I’m his big brother,” Darry replied without hesitation and Johnny looked at him. He almost wanted to cry. He’d never felt he had a family. Not ever. And yet Darry considered him his brother. He knew how much Darry loved Ponyboy and Sodapop. Did this mean he loved him that much too?

“You don’t look like his big brother,” the Soc who’d hit Johnny retorted.

“Don’t matter what I look like,” Darry replied. “All that matters is you’re messin’ with my little brother and that ain’t allowed. Now get out before I beat the shit out of all of you.”

The girl scoffed. “You wouldn’t his us,” she taunted, tossing her hair.

“Watch me,” Darry replied, gritting his teeth. The Socs flinched. He must’ve looked pretty scary. “Anyone who messes with my brother is gonna hurt. That includes you.”

The Socs didn’t say anything, but dispersed quietly, cursing under their breaths as they did so. Johnny watched with amazement as they all went away and wondered what about Darry – stoic, sweet, gentle Darry – had scared them all so bad they decided it was better to leave. It wasn’t like they didn’t outnumber him. Even without their girls. Their girls didn’t fight the way the greaser girls did. In their opinion, that made the Soc girls kind of pathetic.

Once the Socs were all gone, Darry turned to Johnny, whatever angry look he’d been wearing already gone as he reached out a hand to him and said, “You okay, Johnnycake?”

Johnny took Darry’s hand, letting him pull him to his feet as he said, not looking at him, “I’m okay. They just pushed me down and I hit my head.”

He spoke softly, just loud enough that Darry could hear him.

Darry didn’t reply and Johnny didn’t look at him, but if he had, he would’ve seen him pressing his lips into a thin line and frowning. Johnny still didn’t know it, but the entire gang wished they could protect him, take on the pain he was forced through instead of him. He’d been through enough, they all thought, he didn’t deserve to go through anymore, and yet that was what always seemed to happen.

“C’mon,” Darry said, his voice quiet too. “My folks are makin’ a real good dinner of meatloaf and potatoes with gravy and corn. I know you like that stuff. They’re makin’ extra on purpose, so there’ll be more than enough to go around.”

Johnny turned red, still not looking at Darry. He had a hard time accepting offers of anything. Even if he really wanted what was being offered. He had a hard time believing he deserved it or that he wasn’t going to end up being a burden on someone involved.

“C’mon, Johnnycake,” Darry said in a fake pleading voice. “Everyone loves havin’ you around!”

Finally, Johnny smiled, his eyes still not meeting Darry’s as he said, “Okay.”

Darry ruffled Johnny’s hair and slung his arm over his shoulders, leading him away from the school and towards the Curtis house.

Dallas was gone and somehow the Socs knew he liked boys, but for a few hours, he was going to be allowed to forget that and that was enough.

Chapter Text

Grade 7

Age: 12

Location: empty classroom in Morning Grove Junior High

For some godforsaken reason, Johnny had truly believed that junior high would be better than middle school, that everyone might have grown up enough to decide that picking on each other was not only a waste of time, but really immature and they were too old for that crap. But he was wrong. It seemed the only person who thought that way was himself.

The first thing Johnny noticed the Socs had done was write nasty things on his desk. It started as only his desk, but once they found out who his friends were, they started writing the same nasty things on their desks too. They even tailored the insults to each person, finding things out about them that they were certain they’d told no one. Whoever got to the classroom first each day was who saw all of the insults and spilled secrets first.

A lot of things the gang didn’t want anyone to know were spread around the school because the Socs got there first and started reading everything written on everyone’s desks.

So Johnny had started making sure the first person who got to the homeroom classroom every morning was him. Armed with a bottle of spray on bleach and a washrag, he erased the messages every morning before anyone else got there. He was so diligent and good at making sure the insults and secrets were erased before anyone else got there that people stopped trying to get there early. What was the fun in getting there early when the reason they’d been trying was no longer there anyway?

He didn’t know who the person getting there even before he was to write the messages, but he figured that as long as they never ran into each other it didn’t matter.

So, naturally, that was exactly what happened.

It hadn’t changed between elementary school and junior high that Johnny was the Socs favorite target, so he felt it shouldn’t have surprised him that they were waiting for him one morning when he came into school to scrub his, Soda’s, Ponyboy’s, and Darry’s desks. They all had the same homeroom, since their names all started with the letter C. Johnny knew that the rest of the gang weren’t a target. They didn’t share their homeroom and it was only Ponyboy, Soda, and Darry who had to stand up for him against the Socs in homeroom.

He was halfway through scrubbing Darry’s desk. He’d already finished Ponyboy’s and Soda’s and always saved his own for last. The door flung open and he jumped, the bottle of spray bleach falling to the floor. He clung to the washrag that was in his hand and staggered backwards, stumbling into the desks behind him.

“I knew it!” the Soc who had flung open the door shouted. “I knew it would be you being a goody little two-shoes, helping out your friends! You fucking disgusting freak!”

Johnny was frozen, too shocked with fear by their sudden appearance to say anything.

“Oh yeah,” the Soc went on. “That’s right. We know what you are.”

The Socs all moved into the classroom as the leader said this, smirking as they did so and Johnny’s heart sped up, if that were possible. He knew what they meant without having to ask. There was only one thing they could know what he was. He didn’t know how they’d found it out, but then again, he didn’t know how they’d found out most of the things they’d written on the desks.

“We’re here to show you what a real man feels like.”

Their hands immediately went to their belts and the buttons of their trousers and Johnny didn’t have to ask what they meant here either. He’d heard his father say almost the exact same thing often enough that he knew what they meant. His father hated him too for being a boy when that wasn’t what he’d been born. It didn’t really surprise him these Socs felt the same way.

They moved towards him and Johnny sprang into action, darting towards the front of the classroom, not really sure what he planned to do when they blocked the door.

A few of the Socs followed him, but most of them stayed by the door. Two of them caught him by the arms and held him. One of them groped him between the legs and he grimaced, his eyes shut tight and cried out. The rest of the Socs laughed.

The one of them cried out in pain and Johnny opened his eyes and saw Steve there. He looked furious, angrier than Johnny had ever seen him. There were five Socs and only two of them and Johnny was frozen with fear from what had happened, so he couldn’t help. He only watched with wide eyes as Steve knocked out the lead Soc, then the next two that came after him. He never got hurt during rumbles and now Johnny saw exactly why.

The last two Socs tried to take him together, but they still couldn’t surprise him and both of them were down on the ground next to their compatriots in no time. Then Steve walked around the Socs on the floor, grabbed Johnny by the arm and pulled him out of the classroom. He ran with him down the hall to the nearest bathroom and that was when Johnny started crying.

Steve didn’t seem surprised, but he also didn’t make fun of him. He just gave him a big hug and said, “It’s okay, Johnnycake. They’re disgusting pieces of shit. They ain’t gonna hurt you no more. I ain’t gonna let ‘em, okay?”

Johnny didn’t reply, but he let Steve hold him as he sobbed into his chest.

“What were you doin’ here so early anyway?” Steve asked, his voice was strangely soft.

Johnny pulled away and shrugged, not looking at Steve as he said, “They kept writin’ nasty things on Soda’s and Darry’s and Ponyboy’s desks cause they were standin’ up for me. They also kept writin’ secrets they didn’t want anyone to know on there either, so...I started comin’ early to erase everything before anyone else could see it.”

Steve didn’t say anything, he just hugged Johnny again and said, “You ain’t gotta shoulder everything by yourself, Johnnycake. You shoulda told one of us what you were doin’, so we could come and protect you in case somethin’ like this happened.”

Johnny knew Steve was right, but he still said nothing. He hadn’t wanted to bother anyone and, truth be told, he hadn’t thought of that for that reason.

“C’mon,” Steve said quietly, slinging his arm over Johnny’s shoulders. “They serve breakfast early here. I can buy you some if you want.”

Johnny gave a small smile and nodded, not looking at Steve as he said, “I’d like that.”

Chapter Text

Grade: 8

Age: 13

Location: Morning Grove Junior High football field; gym class

Johnny hated gym class for many reasons. He hated it because he had to change in front of people he didn’t know – though he’d gotten around this by changing in one of the nearby bathroom stalls instead, which turned out to be necessary, since the Socs enjoyed stealing his things and hiding them around the locker room just to make him late for class. He hated that they always split up for teams and he was always picked last, unless Soda – who shared his gym period – was one of the captains. And he hated gym in general; their teacher was loud, the kids were cruel, and he hated running around where everyone could see him doing it.

He also felt ridiculous in gym uniform and, as he examined himself in the mirror once all of the other students had headed towards the football field, he wished he could at least wear his denim jacket. His white short-sleeved gym t-shirt and shorts didn’t hide the scars on his arms and legs well enough. No one had noticed yet, but that was because he wore his socks up to his knees and kept his arms hidden or moving as much as possible. However, despite this, he knew it was only a matter of time until at least Sodapop noticed. Or maybe he already had and hadn’t said anything.

Letting out a sigh, he turned on his heel and went out to the football field.

Might as well get this over with. After all, it was only one hour.

Their gym teacher started out by having them do laps around the football field. They had to complete three laps. Once everyone was back at the starting point and sitting by the teacher once more, the teacher informed them that today was the mile run, which meant they would be running around the perimeter of the school grounds, since that equated to one mile. If they didn’t do it in fifteen minutes, they’d have to do it again.

Johnny tugged at the grass on the ground in front of him at this.

He hated the mile run. He always came in last or close to last because he couldn’t run fast and got tired easily. Sodapop always ran with him because of this – and to make sure the Socs behaved themselves – but would he today? No one wanted to have to do the mile run again. Not even if they were going to be spending it with their friend who also had to do it again. The only person who ever had was Dallas, but that was at the end of last year when he came home from New York.

However, to his surprise, Sodapop found him once the teacher told them to move to the starting place and to get ready to run and said softly in his ear, “Don’t worry, I’ll run with you, Johnnycake.” And then he gave him his big ear to ear grin and Johnny couldn’t help feeling at least a little bit reassured. Sodapop was good at looking after him. The whole gang was, really. It was just...no one knew how to do it quite like Dallas.

The gym teacher blew his whistle and everyone started off at a brisk jog – some at a quick run – around the perimeter of the school grounds. There were several people lagging behind like Sodapop and Johnny were, but none of them were as far behind as they were. Johnny half did that on purpose. He didn’t want to give the Socs a reason to come after him.

Without warning, Johnny tripped over something and fell to the ground. The peals of laughter around him that followed told him exactly what had happened: one of the Socs had tripped him. He pressed his lips into a thin line to keep himself from cursing as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He felt a tentative hand on his shoulder and then Soda’s voice asking, “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Johnny said softly, but only so Soda could hear him.

Soda straightened and reached out a hand to help him up. He reached out to Soda in turn with his left hand, his left forearm hitting the light just right and making the scars there stick out in stark relief. Johnny didn’t even notice until one of the Socs to his right gasped and said, “What the fuck?”

Before Soda or Johnny could react, the Soc had grabbed his arm. Johnny cried out in shock and pain as the Soc wrenched his arm towards his eyes, studying the scars there and then Johnny’s heart dropped into his stomach as he realized, again, what had happened.

“You cut yourself?” the Soc asked smirking widely, throwing Johnny’s arm back at him.

Johnny staggered back a couple of steps and looked away.

“That’s so disgusting!” the Soc went on. “Wow, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Leave him alone, you freaks,” Soda retorted, pulling Johnny behind him.

Johnny caught sight of Soda’s face for just a moment and saw he looked furious.

“Oh yeah?” the Soc replied, taking several steps towards them, still smirking. “And what exactly are you gonna do about it, greaser?”

Soda shrugged one shoulder. “Nothin’. Unless you bother him again.”

The Soc stared at Sodapop for a long time before he lurched forwards around him, his fist raised. He stopped just before he hit Johnny, but the damage was already done. Johnny flinched and staggered back a couple of steps. Sodapop hit the Soc hard in the cheek on instinct and, even though he staggered back as well, clutching his cheek, he was laughing hard, and so were his buddies.

“What a pathetic loser!” the leader managed to gasp out between bouts of laughter as they started to run away. “He flinches when you don’t even touch him!”

“Don’t you know?” one of the other Socs said, their voices growing more distant as they got further and further away. “That’s the one who’s dad beats the shit out of him. His mom, too.”

The Socs laughed again, but Johnny stayed on the ground (The ground? Hadn’t he been standing a moment ago?), shaking badly and staring with wide eyes in front of him, not seeing the world around him and instead seeing his father, rushing towards him, ready to hit him, over and over and over again, until it was all he could see.

“Johnnycake?”

Soda’s voice sounded so distant, so far away. Johnny blinked, turning slowly towards him, his eyes leaving the spot they’d been fixated on more slowly than the rest of him. He saw Soda’s face through the memory blinding him and Soda looked worried. Johnny focused on him, tried to hear what else he was saying, even though his voice was muffled, until the real world came into focus around him and he could understand what Soda was saying.

“You okay? You’re shakin’ pretty bad.”

Johnny swallowed hard and tried to force a smile, but he couldn’t, so instead he looked away and said, “I’m fine. I’m okay.”

Soda didn’t look convinced, but he helped Johnny to his feet again and said, “We can go slow if you want. The Socs are just jerks. They just wanna hurt people. It almost like they ain’t human.”

Johnny only nodded.

He saw the Socs as human, but only because he knew, just about more than anyone else in the gang, that humans could be horrible, humans could want to hurt people, and humans could even enjoy it. He’d learned that early on in life. From both of his parents.

Chapter Text

Grade: 9

Age: 15

Location: Sparrow Field High School hallway

By the time Johnny got to high school, he was getting to be really sick of school in general. The town he lived in was small, which meant everyone knew everyone and that the kids who went to school together in elementary school usually ended up graduating high school together too. For some kids, this was a good thing. It meant their friends would be with them until college. Johnny saw it as a mixed blessing. On the one hand, he’d get to be with the gang until graduation. On the other hand, the Socs who had been beating up on him since kindergarten would be with him too. And they made sure to make that fact very well known.

Over the years, their torment had evolved from hitting him with pencils on the bus, to beating him up behind the school or in the locker rooms. The beatings and the torment didn’t bother Johnny so much as the constant fear of it happening again. The gang protected him as much as they could, but they weren’t in every class with him and, besides, they had other things on their mind that took up their time. Other important things they couldn’t ignore. Johnny didn’t begrudge them for that.

The Socs current favorite thing to do was accost him between classes and harangue him until the bell rang. Their classes were usually nearby, so they wouldn’t have to worry about getting across the school to their next class, but Johnny’s always seemed to be spaced far apart. It also didn’t seem to matter how many times he told the teachers he was being tormented. They either didn’t believe him, though he was exaggerating, or told him they would do something and then nothing was ever done. He continually was blamed for being late and nothing changed.

The bell rang, jolting him out of his thoughts and reminding him that it was yet another day he was going to have to try to get between classes without being harassed. He grit his teeth as he filed out of the classroom with the other students, eager to get to their next classes. He kept his head down, his hands stuffed into his pockets, and his collar turned up. Sometimes, this helped him blend into the crowd, turned him into just another greaser, not worth bothering.

“Hey Johnnycake!” a taunting voice sounded from behind him.

But that was only sometimes.

He started walking faster, but it seemed they had anticipated this and there was someone in front of him. He wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for the fact he tripped. He was staring at the ground and, once his things scattered across the hallway, getting kicked every which way by the students rushing between classes, he wondered why he hadn’t seen the foot that tripped him or, if he somehow had, why he hadn’t tried to avoid it.

Johnny immediately started pushing himself up, trying to crawl fast enough to his things on the floor before they got too scattered. The Socs laughed at his efforts, but he tried desperately to ignore them. He didn’t want to be late to class again. If he were late too many times, they’d call his parents.

Then suddenly there was someone next to him, helping him gather up his things, moving much more quickly than he was because they were calm. He chanced a glance at this person and saw Ponyboy, his lips pressed into a thin line as he helped Johnny pick up his things.

“Just ignore ‘em,” he said softly as the Socs continued laughing and kicking Johnny’s things just out of reach. “They ain’t worth gettin’ upset over.”

Johnny knew Ponyboy was right, but he couldn’t help feeling frustrated anyway.

It was always him they picked on, always him they tormented and tortured. He got enough of that at home and yet he still had to come to school and deal with that every day too. It made him want to scream and cry until he couldn’t anymore.

Then one of the Socs shouted something at him. A word. It wasn’t a nice word. In fact, it was a really bad word for people who were Latino like he was.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Pony freeze. His watched his fingers tighten on Johnny’s belongings and he watched Ponyboy hand him things as if in slow motion before he turned around, looking furious and said, “Watch your mouth. That ain’t called for.”

Johnny wasn’t looking at the Soc and therefore didn’t see his face, but he was willing to bet he only smirked at Ponyboy before he said, “Oh yeah? And what’re you gonna do about it, greaser?”

Ponyboy swallowed. “Nothin’. Cause I ain’t a pathetic lowlife. Like you.”

The Soc looked furious. He might’ve crossed the distance between himself and Ponyboy and clocked him a good one if the warning bell hadn’t rang right then. Then it was as if someone had set the clocks to run twice as fast as everyone ran and speed walked to their classes. Johnny got as many of his things together as he could find and set off at a mad dash towards his next class, Ponyboy, who had that class with him, on his heels.

“Thanks, Pony,” he said softly as they slowed once they reached their classroom.

Ponyboy smiled at Johnny. “Don’t mention it,” he said. “Those Socs are just losers.”

Johnny smiled back as the final bell rang and they sat down in their seats. He’d been held back a year because he wasn’t good at advanced math – or math, period – but he didn’t mind so much anymore. Ponyboy was in his class at least.

Chapter Text

Grade: 10

Age: 16

Location: Alverson Street

It had been almost ten years since Johnny Cade had taken the bus to school and he wasn’t about to start now. It was the start of the spring semester at school and he was ready to be done with school for the year. He still had a few months to go, but it was so close. Then he could spend the summer going to the drive-in with Dallas, going to the Dingo and the Pine with Dallas and Ponyboy, and spending his free time throwing the football in the vacant lot or looking up at the stars once he got dark.

No one in Tulsa or in any part of Oklahoma, really, liked the summer because of how hot it was. It got too hot and humid and there were too many bugs. Sometimes it got so hot you could see the heat rising off the pavement. But Johnny loved summer. It was the season he was the most free.

But he still had to get through two more months of school before that could happen.

It was early in the morning when he got up and left the house for the high school only a few blocks away. He liked going early because he could watch the sun come up, he could watch the mist as it dissipated into the air with the suns rays, and he could watch the animals as they darted across the road and through the trees as he passed them.

He was almost out of his neighborhood and to the main road the school was on when he heard sudden footsteps behind him. He turned around and saw a group of Socs running at him at full speed. He only had a moment to wonder how they’d gotten there and why they were there to begin with before he realized they were headed after him and he needed to run to avoid getting caught.

Johnny almost always took the back way through the alleys behind the houses where people parked their cars to get to school. It was quieter and there were more animals and less people and now he cursed himself for going that way exactly for that reason. If he were closer to the main road or even going the way every other kid in the neighborhood went to school, he wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught, but that was probably exactly why the Socs had come down this way to begin with.

He ran as fast and as hard as he could, but there were five Socs and only one of him and eventually one of them caught up with him and tripped him, making him fall in a sprawl to the ground. One of them immediately fell down next to him, pinning him there while another straddled him and said, “We’re gonna beat you good, greaser.”

Johnny thought about screaming or asking what he’d done to them, but he knew it wouldn’t matter. The Socs hated the greasers for being greasers. They didn’t need a specific reason to jump him.

The Soc straddling him punched him on the jaw, snapping his head to one side. He didn’t make a noise and only winced, shutting his eyes tight on reflex. The Soc was pulling his fist back to hit him again when someone grabbed him from behind, pulled him off of Johnny and hit him instead.

Johnny blinked as the grip of the Socs holding him down loosened and he saw Dallas above him, hitting the Socs as they came at him. He had a dangerous look in his eyes and he was grinning. Dally loved a fight any time, anywhere.

He didn’t knock any of them out, but he beat them all good enough that they all scrambled to their feet and ran away with him shouting after them, “Yeah, you better run!” He spit at them too, looking vicious as he did so. Then he turned to Johnny, his face softening instantly. Johnny still couldn’t see it, but Dallas was different around him than anyone else. “You okay?” he asked.

Johnny nodded, looking away and scuffing his boot into the unpaved ground beneath him.

Dallas crossed the space between them and took his chin in his hands, forcing his face up to look at him as he turned his head both ways, examining the place the Socs had hit him. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked again.

Johnny nodded again and this time looked at Dallas with a small smile.

Dally smiled back and pulled Johnny to him, ruffling his hair as he did so. “C’mon, kid,” he said, starting down the road and pulling Johnny after him. “Let’s get to school.”