Won't You Love Me?

CHAPTER TWO

Name: Dino Crocetti (Dean Martin)

Year: 1931

Age: 14

What the hell am I doing at this stupid school? I don't need to know who won what war, and when. I need to fight my own wars, and George Washington sure isn't going to help me win them.

The bell signalling the end of the day pulls me from my thoughts, and my face hardens in indignation as I sweep my books into one arm and leave the room along with the other students.

As I pass Barbara's desk, I notice her looking at me from the edges of my vision, and I toss her a playful grin. She smiles back, looking up at me from beneath her long, blond lashes, and I continue on my way.

I only stop at my locker long enough to toss my books in, and I slam it closed a little harder than usual. I'm no five-year-old, I shouldn't still be doing this; listening to these stupid broads who've got nothing to tell me I need. There's a reason why they pay us to go to college, not the other way around. They couldn't pay me a million dollars to go to college.

Jogging down the stone steps of the entrance to the school, I blink against the harsh sunlight, and I make out a group playing aerial passes with a soccer ball. I don't plan on joining the game, but as I pass their area of the field, hands in my coat pockets, they call out to me to play. I shake my head, but they continue: "Come on, just one pass?!" Finally I sigh, unbutton my coat, and lay it folded on the edge of the field before abruptly breaking into a sprint.

A few of the boys run after me, but the rest are too caught off guard to follow. After about five seconds, though, the boys fall back, unable to catch up with me, and after a few more seconds of feeling the wind whip past my face, I turn towards the group, and the ball rockets towards me. Perfect. The leather stings my forearms as I catch it, but I catch it nonetheless. The boys break into cheers, and, panting, I drop the ball and stroll back to where my coat is. I pick it up and brush the grass off before carefully pulling it on and buttoning it up.

As I stroll away from the field, heart slowing to its normal pace again, a car pulls up beside me. Joan rolls down her window and pushes her long, dark curls from her piercing blue eyes.

"Good catch." She says softly.

"Thanks."

"Am I still seeing you tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." I croon back, and am about to turn away from Joan when I realize she is still looking up at me hopefully; expecting something. I already told her I was coming tonight. With that thought, I walk away.

###

"Hey, look, it's the sissy!" The call comes from the leader of a group of boys standing in the road blocking my way, a real greaseball senior who thinks he's better than everyone else.

"Lemme through, Eddie." I say shortly.

"Why should I?"

"Whaddyatryna do? Start a fight? If you are, I'm in the mood to boff someone. Particularly you." The words come out softly and slowly as I brazenly lock eyes with Eddie.

"Now why would I want to do that? I'm just havin' fun."

"Sure, pally." I cut through the group, and am almost in the clear when Eddie mumbles under his breath, "You sure wouldn't stand a chance if I did fight ya." Now, most days, I wouldn't give him a second glance, but today everyone seems to be asking for a shot in the mouth. So, that's exactly what I give him. Before they can blink, Eddie is clutching at his mouth as blood runs through his fingers. I straighten my sleeves and keep walking through the neighborhood towards my house.