Slow Dance in Purgatory(2)

"You lookin' for Roger, Johnny?" Someone called out. Johnny didn't bother to answer. They all knew he was. Johnny strolled down the line of cars and stopped in front of Irene Honeycutt's pink ride. Irene smiled shyly, and her girlfriends giggled a little and elbowed each other. Irene probably shouldn't be smiling considering Roger Carlton was her guy, but Johnny had that effect on the girls. If he wanted to, he could crook his little finger at any one of the twittering females perched on Irene's car and be hot and heavy in five minutes flat. Maybe later. He really wasn't that interested in Irene's friends. From what he'd seen, Johnny wasn't so sure the blue-eyed brunette was that in to Roger. But who was he to question it? Roger was smart, rich, and popular, and Irene's daddy sure seemed to have plans for him. Johnny had plans for him, too. He was going to beat the hell out of Roger and all his cronies and swear that it'd be ten times worse the next time anyone messed with Billy Kinross.

"He isn't here, Johnny!" A plump redhead named Paula called out, and Irene leveled a look at her that Johnny couldn't decipher. The redhead squirmed nervously and ducked her head when another girl poked her in the ribs.

Johnny zoned in and moved close to the nervous little carrot-top. Tipping her chin up with a long finger, Johnny spoke low and clear.

"Then where is he, Pidge?"

Paula stammered a little, and her cheeks flamed as bright as her hair. "I, um, I'm not sure…he just wanted us to tell you he had better things to do…or something…I think. Um…didn't he say that, Irene?"

"Then what are all of you doing here?" Johnny jerked his head, indicating the crowd, his eyes meeting Irene's, demanding an answer.

She didn't respond, but her blue eyes were wide and the expression on her face had him smelling a rat. The crowd shifted uncomfortably, and someone cleared his throat. A few of the guys that Johnny called friend started asking questions and calling out, and everyone seemed to chime in at once:

"We haven't seen him Johnny –“

"Somebody said they thought he was here!"

"Tommy swears he saw his wheels parked here an hour ago!"

"Go home, Johnny!" Someone else called out. "No one wants trash like you or your brother hangin' around here!" The voice came from back in the crowd and Carter and Jimbo were on it immediately, a scuffle breaking out before Johnny could even see who it was. Like it had been carefully orchestrated, Roger Carlton’s friends were suddenly swarming out of the backs of trucks and cars. Fists were pumping and insults flying as Carter and Jimbo were swallowed up in the fracas. Donnie and Luke were in there somewhere, too. Luke's bright hair and superior height made him visible for a moment before someone pulled him down.

"Hey! Hey!" Johnny shouted out as girls screamed and a few random horns bellowed as people scrambled to jump into their cars or out of their cars, depending on whether or not they wanted in or out of the trouble that had erupted.

Turning to Billy, Johnny swung his arm out fiercely, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him in close. "Stay in the car, little brother. These guys don't fight fair, and it's gonna get ugly. I can't worry about you getting the crap beat out of you while I'm wailing on Carlton."

"Just let it go, Johnny,” Billy pleaded. "We shouldn't have come here at all. I have the willies about all of this, like cooties marching up my spine or somethin'."

"Just stay out of it, Billy!" Johnny insisted again, releasing Billy’s shirt and shoving his brother back towards his car. "Take my car and head down the road a ways. I'll meet you in an hour at The Malt." The Malt was an ice cream parlor where the kids liked to hang out and flirt. It wasn't really Johnny's scene, but he knew Billy would be safe there.

"What if I get caught? You know I ain’t got proof!" Billy hated getting in trouble, and driving without a license would definitely garner some unwanted attention if the cops pulled him over. "And what if I wreck your car?" Billy's voice rose in panic at the thought of putting even a scratch on Johnny's car. That would be even worse than getting caught driving.

"You'll be fine! Just go!" Screams and shouts pulled Johnny's attention from his little brother, and he shrugged out of his leather jacket, threw it at Billy, and took off at a run, barely intercepting an attempt to brain Carter with a piece of a two-by-four someone had snagged from the construction debris.

Alarm sounds were jangling through Johnny's head as he realized these guys weren't playing around. In his periphery, he noticed cars peeling out as the ladies apparently realized this was not a place they wanted to be. Good. One less thing he had to worry about. And there was plenty to be concerned about, because Johnny and his friends were sorely out numbered. What was supposed to be a man to man brawl had turned out to be 3 or 4 to one. Johnny felt himself go cold as he cranked up the volume on the intensity of his own attack. So where the hell was Carlton?!

Then, as if his question had been overheard and answered by some unseen power, Johnny saw him. The walkway to the entrance of the school was lit up, and Roger Carlton was running towards the front doors at full speed. Johnny forced his way through the swinging arms, landing a few shots and taking more than a couple on his way out of the writhing mass of fists and feet. Just as he thought he would break free, someone flew into him, knocking him down and wrapping him up in the thrashing legs and arms of several people. By the time Johnny had fought his way back out, Carlton was gone.