Society

Johnny B. Goode

The young boy walked in the room and slammed the door closed. He stood before the devil in disguise, before he truly knew the real devil.
"Sit down, boy," he barked out at the boy. The rebel stared him down. Both waiting for the other to break first. The man speaks again. "Sit down or you get in-school suspension for a week." He sat down on the most uncomfortable fabric chair. Made out of unfermented wine and dick. The graying man can't stop the grin that forms. "Good boy," he patronized.
"What exactly am I doing here this time, Dewey?" The kid speaks to him like the countless other times he has.
"You know exactly why you're here. So confess now."
"Nah. I'm good." They sat there in silence, looking at each other, waiting for the other to break first. It was proving to be a very tough staring match, and the old dog bit first.
"Johnathan, you're not a bad kid. You have A's in every class, you enjoy reading and mathematics. So why are you graffiting the restrooms, and getting into fights, and dangering the overall wellbeing of this school? Is there something wrong at home? I know that your father left-"
"Why don't you just call my house and we can get this over and done with." Johnny interjects. Dewey shakes his head as he reaches into his desk and pulls out a thick folder. Scribbled on the top is Johnathan Patrick Wilson.
"This is your school record. Everything you have ever done is in here. All the grades, fights, and accoplishments you've gotten over the years. The numerous spelling bees you've won, the art award, an award for outstanding kindness and gratitude, the list goes on. Until, a few years ago, when you stopped helping out, and from what other students have told me, you're a bit of a grouch. Is it because of your father's absence?"
"Just call home," Johnny squeaks out a plead.
"Though from what I've been told by some students, whenever your friend Daniel Duke is around, you are a lot nicer."
"Danny's my best friend."
"Was he part of the fight?"
"No."
"I'm calling your house."
"Why now?"
"You admitted to being in that fight. So why'd you do it?"
"You want the honest answer?"
"Yep."
"I was fighting on behalf of this kid, my group calls him Underdog. He doesn't go to this school, but hangs with my gang. He's homeless, and small, but got stuck in a fight." Blatant lie.
"With Jason Tain?"
"Yeah. Jason started picking on him, shoving, pushing, and calling him fag."
"Why?"
"Because the Tain brothers are not simple little joys like you may think. He just needed a fight. Underdog tried to get him to back off, and that's when things got nasty. Jason started throwing fists, and Underdog can't handle that. That's when I walked by. I reacted instantly, and was throwing punches back. Jason pulled out a knife and slashed me a few times." He could lie his way out of anything.
"Hence the one on your cheek?"
"Yep."
"Where else?"
"Mostly to my arms and a few to my torso. I was able to get the knife out of his hand, and punched him as hard as I could in the face. He backed off after that."
"That was it?"
"Okay. I may have punched him more than once in the face."
"I still have to make the call home, Johnathan. And you know what this means, right?"
"Nope."
"You're getting expelled."
"No. You can't do this. I was helping someone. That should be like some sort of get out of jail free card." He pleaded to the judge and jury.
"We talked about this last time. I'm going to step out to call your house." He grabs the cord and stretches it out the door.
"Fine. Whatever." He steps out, and Johnny gets up and makes his way over to the bookshelf filled with all the students' files. "Why would you keep all of the students records in a bookshelf?" He searches for one in particular. He pulls the folder out, not nearly as thick. Daniel Dehmer Duke inscribed on the top. Most of his folder are just his grades. But he finds a few bad things. These are the times where Danny still gets some of the blame for being wrapped up in Johnny's hijinks. Johnny takes the blame, always, but sometimes they still write him up. He takes the three sheets and folds them up, putting them in his pocket. He takes a moment to take a gander at his friend's report card from kindergarten. "He looks even more adorable than now. Now he's mostly just hot." He smiles before starting to  hear the doorknob jiggle. "Shit." He utters before throwning the file back into place and dashing back to his chair. Dewey suspects nothing.
"Your mom is coming to pick you up."
"Great. Might as well have God strike me down."
"Quit your whining." He sits down. Johnny starts twiddling his thumbs oit of boredom while looking around the room for something to do.
"Can I go to the bathroom?"
"Nope. You'll leave, maybe even paint it again."
"Why would I do such a thing?" He asks with fake innocence. He gives Johnny a glare with a reason for him to die as he writes down some paperwork. Most likely writing him up for the fight he had today. His mother will probably be here in ten minutes, so what would he do before then?
He leans back in his chair and whistles a tune.
"Stop that."
Johnny's whistling halts as he complies with the order.
"Hey Dewey?"
"Yes Mr. Wilson?" He looks up from the papers annoyed.
"Do you have a family?"
"Yes. I have a wife, Elizabeth, for thirty-five years, my son Dawson is a lawyer, my daughter Mary Ann has been the lead investigator on the Jesse Squier case for a few years, and my youngest, Amanda Ruth is finishing up her degree in stage performance in New York."
"Some good kids then?"
"Yes. All very well behaved and have a plan for their future."
"Any third gens running around somewhere?"
"One grandson from Dawson, his name's Jackson. My daughter Mary Ann has been in what she says is a very serious relationship with someone named Alex. Says they've been together for a few years, but I've never been introduced to him. A complete lowlife is what he sounds like though."
"How so?"
"She says he has long hair and is shorter than her. Also that he's very liberal and is a go-getter for all social inequalities."
"Is that such a bad thing?"
"No. Not really. But he doesn't seem to have a future planned out other than being some kind of musician."
"That's cool."
"Unrealistic."
"Potato, potato." Their conversation ends at that. Johnny looks to the clock and sees that some time has passed but not nearly enough.
"Hey Dew-ster?"
"What, Johnathan?"
"Where do babies come from?" Dewey rolls his eyes.
"Shut up Wilson. Once you leave this school, you are no longer my problem. If you're really so worried about it, ask your mom, or go to the library."
Johnny smirks and plays with a lose string from his shirt.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Come in." Dewey says through the door. Mother Dearest walks in, a stern look on her face.
"What the hell, Johnny?" Johnny stands up, ready to go, and prepared to brush past her.
"Johnny!" Little legs come running in, jumping into Johnny's arms.
"Hey Pickle!" He says giving her a big hug.
"I missed you." She says while hugging back.
"You saw me this morning."
"That was like forever hours ago. Too many."
"Who's this?" Dewey asks smiling at her.
"My little sister, Jamie." Johnny says, pinching his sister's cheek. She smacks his hand away.
"Stop averting the conversation, Johnny. I'm not buying the whole Underdog bullshit. Unlike your principle, I'm not a lame dog."
"Mrs. Wilson-"
"Not another word out of you, faggot. You don't have the right to talk to me anymore."
"I don't like that word, mom."
"What word? Faggot? Why not?"
"Because it's offensive. There are millions of homosexuals out there who are to afriad to say anything because of people like you."
"So? Those worthless, lowlife, fags deserve to die in hell."
"Mrs. Wilson, I don't believe that this is the right language-"
"Nobody asked you." She spits out and turns her attention back to her son. "And you. When I'm done with your ass tonight, you won't even want to live anymore. And according to me, I have no son anymore."
"Mrs. Wilson, if you lay a hand on that boy-"
"Shut up Dewey. It's alright. She never means anything she says." Dewey looks for concrete evidence in Johnny's eyes to back up his statement, but finds none.
"If you say so, Johnathan. But please do come to me if there is a problem."
"There's never been and never will be a problem." Johnny states before walking out of the room with his sister in hand. Once all three of them are out of Dewey's office, a hard slap echoes off of Johnny's face. He, however, does not falter, and keeps a firm grip on Jamie. He takes a look in his mother's eyes, and sprints down the halls.
"Don't ever use that word."
"The one that starts with f?"
"Yes. It's the worst word you could ever use."
"Shouldn't we wait for Mommy?"
"No. I'm taking you out for ice cream."
"Chocolate?"
"Of course." Once outside of that infernal hell, the warm Autumn sun beating onto their faces, he picks Jamie up, and places her on his shoulders. He walked the few minutes to the heart of town, entering Jimmy's Malt Shoppee. He sits down at the bar, helping Jamie into her chair. "Vanilla malt for me, chocolate soft serve for my little lady here." He pats her head. A nod comes from the guy behind the counter. He looks around to the diner's attendees and sees a man to the left of him sitting there in a fedora and trench coat, reading a newspaper. "'Scuse me sir, but I was wondering if you'd seen somebody in here? Possibly reading a newspaper, maybe even wearing a fedora and trench coat?" He rests his head in his hand, smiling at the man. He swivels his chair towards Johnny, and lowers his newspaper.
"Is this man devastatingly handsome? Incredibly smart? And maybe, just maybe, waiting for his late boyfriend?" Danny sarcastically states.
"Sorry, got a little held up. Principle bustin' my ass again."
"Well, I don't forgive you."
"What's it going to take for you to forgive me?"
"Oh I don't know. My lips feel a little lonely." Johnny smirks and quickly pulls Danny's hat off of him, covering their faces as he brings them in for a chaste kiss, everyone too busy with their own thing to notice.
"Is that enough for now?"
"For now, but I expect some more later."
"Okay, say I be at your house around seven?"
"At seven."
"That will work." The clerk sets down Johnny and his sister's sweets, and Johnny takes a quick sip of his malt. He pulls out a quarter, sliding it towards the clerk. Danny grabs a straw from the straw holder, and places it in Johnny's malt, taking a huge gulp of it. They both take note of the Chuck Berry song that comes on the radio, but Johnny has not one clue as to what it's called.
"Johnny?"
"Yes Jamie?"
"Can you grab me a napkin?" He grabs one out of the holder, and almost hands it to her. That's before he saw her face completely covered in chocolate.
"I think you should just go clean your face in the bathroom."
"Okay. I'll be back, don't go anywhere." She runs off to the bathroom. Johnny pulls the couple slips of paper out of his pocket.
"Look what I snatched from Dewey." Danny snatches the paper, and unfolds it. "You sir, have got a clean record."
"You know you don't have to keep getting in trouble for me."
"It won't happen anymore."
"Why?"
"I, uh, kind of got expelled."
"Johnny!"
"Yeah I know. But, that doesn't matter right now. The only thing that matters right now, on this day, is me and you."
"This talk about you being expelled isn't over, but that was sweet. I can't believe you remembered."
"How could I forget, it's our one year anniversary."
"Yeah, but you're the bad boy."
"Baby, I'd ruin my reputation for you. I would go in front of the entire school and tell them that I'm dating you."
"Oh god, can we make that date earlier?"
"No. I've got stuff to arrange."
"You're gonna make me wait?"
"Yep. But it'll be worth it, I know."
"Who knows if I can make it or not."
Jamie sits backdown, and asks Johnny a question with the innocence only a child can have.
"So, are you going to marry Danny one day?" Well, that was blunt. His face goes slightly pink.
"Well, uh."
"What's the answer there Johnny-Boy?" Danny asks, a big smile on his stupid--but so very adorable--face.
"I would love to, one day. Possibly in the distant future." He looks to Danny, his smile wide, one that Johnny can't help but return with a soft smile and sweet doe eyes. That is until he takes a moment to look at his watch. "Oh shit. I need to bring Jamie home, and arrange a few things. I'll meet you at your house at seven, dress fancy."
"Oooh. Going someplace nice, you pulled everything out, didn't you?"
"Only the best. See you in a bit, babe." Johnny kisses his hand quickly, and makes his way out the door, leaving a blushing Danny behind. He will always remember the soft little moments they've had.
They walk into their house, and Jamie immediately dashes into the kitchen, and the soft noise of a tv can be heard. Johnny makes a quick dash past the living room entrance to the stairs and climbs them to his room. He pulls a hanger out of his closet, and places it on his bed. He has only worn it a few times before, mostly on dates, and this is the biggest date he's had. He grabs a towel off the back of his chair, and rushes into the bathroom.
The water starts cold, but soon heats up to a happy medium. He strips, the water hitting his grimy skin, and he watches it swirl down the drain. The stench leaves his body body, and the dried blood ceases to exist down the drain. He finishes up quickly, swiftly wrapping a towel around his waist after shutting off the water. He opens his bedroom door--a soft wood--to find his mother sitting on his polka-dotted bed. He narrows his eyes at her. She stands up swiftly, stalking over to her ex-son, and starring into his soul via his eyes.
"Where are you going?" She spits at him.
"Out." He replies simply, deeming her not important enough to know.
"What do you plan on doing tonight?" She asks, gesturing to the suit sprawled on his bed, sulking silently.
"It's none of your fucking business." He rallies back to her.
"Don't take that tone with me, young man. Don't think for a single minute that you can get away from me. Even finding a wife to give me granchildren  will make me feel love for you again. You have disgraced and dishonoured our family's good name."
"There's nothing good in this family anymore. There is no love, no peace, no happiness here. Jamie doesn't deserve this, and she doesn't deserve you."
"You have no right to tell a mother that. She is my daughter and she loves me."
"If you ever lay a hand on her, I will not hesitate. I can live with myself going down this road, I can live. But Jamie has so much purity that you mustn't take away. She is the only rhing left with love and happiness in this family. Not like you ever knew anything about love." He snaps at her.
"Listen here, b-" Johnny cuts her off.
"You only married dad because you needed his money. You never loved him you bitch. When he died you almost jumped with joy. But, you couldn't blame yourself, could you?"
"Stop it, Johnathan!" She pushes him to the ground, but his words do not falter.
"You had to put the blame on the child you never really wanted, didn't you? It was your fault, you are the reason dad died, he needed to get away from you. It should have been you. Anyone but him." her hand comes slamming into his face, and there's a distinctive groan when a kick comes to his chest. He doubles over himself, hilding both his face and his heart. They both sting.
"You are a waste of air!" Another snap of flesh on flesh. "You'll never do anything good with your life!" That's gonna leave a mark. "Everything and everyone you love are just piteous!" With a hard impact he gets thrown backwards onto the ground. His head smacks the carpet. "You are a pathetic child, that even your father didn't want!" A kick to his side makes him jolt in pain. "You have no clue what love is, you faggot!" He look up at her face, and his vision becomes bleary. She walks away, giving one last sharp kick to the head, the toe of her heel digging into his face. The door errupts when it is slammed shut. His head droops back down. He is stuck in the inbetween of conciousness. He cam feel the carpet slowly become wet from tears, shower water, and possibly some blood. He staggers to his feet, and clumsily puts on his father's suit.
A slip of paper slides under the door, and he instantly recognized the scratchy handwriting.
Com home 2nite. Eye whant the yells to stop.
Johnny grabs the small box from his dresser and climbs out the window.
He gets in his father's truck-- "Beast"-- and starts her up. He speeds down the street, not quite caring in this moment whether he lives or dies.
He stops by a flower shop on his way to Danny's. Eyes boar into him, picking him apart with odd looks, pitiful faces, and snarky comments. He picks up a bouquet of a dozen white roses, with card, and a box of assorted chocolates. It's cheesy he knows, but Danny gives Johnny the cheesiest grins, so it's fitting. He loses his balance a few times, but doesn't quite topple over. He pays, gets back in the Beast. His seatbelt doesn't click closed, he still continues on his way to Danny's house. He pulls up on the curb in front of Danny's house. He knows his parents aren't home. Visiting his aunt, Danny told him he had a big test that he could not miss.
He checks his watch as he walks up towards the front door, 6:45. Johnny know for a fact that Danny's standing right by the door, walking back and forth. He's always ready by fifteen before, no matter what. Johnny shuffles around on his feet a little bit, starting to get a little bit nervous. He wipes his hands on his pants, takes a deep yet quiet breath, and places a white rose in his mouth. He rings the doorbell, and quickly takes a knee, holding the chocolate and roses out. He starts to think it might be too clique, but Danny has always had a love for the theatrics. The door opens, and Danny's face appears. Johnny's smile grows big, his eyes trailing over his body. The suit looks good on him. The blue accents are a good touch, he finds himself thinking, even though he's seen this suit a hundred times by now. When Johnny brings his face back up to look Danny in his beautiful eyes, he expects to Danny's face to be full of smiles, but instead his hands are over his mouth.
"Oh god! Johnny, you're bleeding." He says with a lot of concern.
"What?" Johnny asks, lisped by the rose in his mouth mouth. He shuffles the bouquet into his other hand, and brings a hand up to his face. "Oh shit," he comments after seeing it slick red.
"You look like Two Face, what the hell happened?"
Johnny thinks back to what could've been only one hour ago. He stands up quickly and pushes himself inside. Danny closes the door behind him. He meticulously sets everything down carefully on the coffee table. He stares down at the roses and loses himself in his thoughts for a moment
"You are a waste of air!" He can feel the stinging again. "...Pathetic child!" It hurts him so bad. "...You faggot!" Fuck. Danny wraps his arms around Johnny, who is clearly shaken over something.
"Don't cry, Johnny. It's okay. I'm here, I'll always be here," he whispers into Johnny's ear. Johnny hugs back. He's not crying, he knows that much, but damn, does it feel like he should.
Johnny leans his head on Danny's chest. His heartbeat is calming. Always will be. It makes Johnny remember the first time he heard this heartbeat. Cold fall day, Devil Without A Cause, this very couch, and of course Danny made the first move. He remembers that line down to a tee.
"If I had one day when I didn't have to be all confused and I didn't have to feel that I was ashamed of everything. If I felt that I belonged someplace. You know?"
Danny sits Johnny down on the couch and runs into his kitchen. Johnny can hear the sink turn on, then off, then Danny is back sitting in front of him