Peanut

Rating: PG (Language)

Summary: It's amazing how easily things stick. One snide remark, and he's been branded Peanut ever since.

---

Being a freshman in school is always a scary thing. The first day of school, when you step through the halls, is the scariest day of your life. It's the plunge into a new beginning, a new saga of your life - and you do your best to try to find the right friends fast, and keep your head low until you've gained enough confidence to look an upperclassman in the eye.

Larry Romano was no exception to the rule. Even though he knew people from New Coventry - like his best friend Johnny Vincent, and his one-time girlfriend Lola Lombardi - the majority of the student population was a vast unknown for him.

He could tell the seniors from one glance. They were tall, could shave, and a few of them even smoked. They sneered at him, just daring him to look them in the face for more than a second. He never did. Juniors were no better, either; they were just small seniors. Thankfully, sophomores were approachable, though that was iffy at best. Ask the wrong person, the wrong clique, and your ass was in the trashcan with something live and furry scraping up against it.

Larry was engulfed by his second-hand leather jacket. 'A greaser,' Johnny had said, 'That's what they call us, 'cause we're good with cars.' If Johnny was a greaser, he would be a greaser. Though the smell of oil made him dizzy, and he had to bum off of Johnny for hair gel because he couldn't scrape up enough free cash to get anything good.

He stared at his itinerary, gazing around curiously as he stood in the big hall. Off to the side, Larry could see a school store, where fresh-faced kids just out of middle school were buying extra uniforms and other Bullworth wear. There was a bulletin board over to the side, already littered with notices and letters.

"Hey!" Larry jumped five feet as a hand clamped down on his back, scaring him witless. He whirled around, nearly punching Johnny.

"Watch it!" Larry said, letting out a heavy sigh. Johnny laughed, pulling away from him.

"Sorry, didn't know ya'd be so tense." Johnny grinned, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He was so cocky. He gazed over at Peanut's schedule, scoffing. "You've got English first too, huh?"

Larry nodded, looking around. None of the doors were labeled. How was he supposed to get around this school?

Johnny nodded, pointing over in the general direction of the glass. "I've talked to some buddies," Buddies? They had only been in school for a few hours. "And they tell me that our teacher is on the first floor, in that direction." He started walking, and Peanut followed.

English was his first class. The teacher's name was Mr. Galloway, and thankfully he shared the class with Johnny and another student who commented on his slick hair and nice duds. (Unknown to him, it was Vance, who'd he would later find out was gay and harbored a crush for him.)

He sat down next to Johnny. Even though he was a freshman also, he seemed more like a senior with all of the information he knew. "That," he said in low tones, "Is Mr. Galloway." He pointed to the older looking man sitting at his desk, who was taking sips from his water bottle as he was waiting for the class to fill in and the late bell to ring. "He's pretty nice, real lenient and all, so you can get a real easy B in this class. It helps he's a drunk." Johnny grinned, and Larry snickered.

"What's he drinking…?"

"Bet you ten it's white lightning."

"No shit, really?" Larry gaped.

"Hell yeah! I heard that he's mostly a whiskey man, but alchie's will take anything they can, ya know?" Johnny said, leaning back in his chair and grinning.

Larry laughed loudly, trying to muffle it behind his arm.

"Would you two grease balls quiet down?" A dirty-blonde boy snapped, regarding them as if they were garbage. His uniform was unusually expensive looking, light blue with a small 'A' in the corner. Larry frowned. That was Aquaberry, wasn't it? Who the hell could afford to wear Aquaberry?

Johnny leaned over the side of his desk, growling at the kid. "Shut it, Derby!"

A small paper ball bounced off the side of Johnny's head. He looked over at the kid who had shot it: a tall, buff looking, red haired boy. He was also wearing Aquaberry, though his features didn't look as severe as the others. "Mind your place, pauper," the boy sneered, surprisingly speaking straight English, not any of that fancy British talk all of the other preps used. Derby gazed over at the other boy with slight surprise, but he smiled suddenly, goaded along by the backup.

"Yes, pauper. I'd hate to muck up my new slate Aquaberry loafers just so I can put you in your place."

Johnny jumped up. "Those are fightin' words, preppy!"

Feeling left out, Larry did the same. "Yeah!"

The bell rung shrilly, and Mr. Galloway suddenly stood, closing the door. He had a dopey smile on his face. "Class, class, settle down." He waved at them, and the greasers glared over at Derby, sitting down slowly. "Welcome to your first day of Bullworth Academy!"

A few of the kids in bright green cheered. Larry rolled his eyes.

"And now - a pop quiz!" He let out a light-hearted chuckle, grabbing some of the papers off of his desk and passing them out. Larry's eyes looked ready to bulge out of his head.

"Is he mad?"

"No…" Johnny groaned, passing a paper back to Larry. "Just drunk…"

-----

Physical Education was an easy subject, and Larry was glad it was his last of the day. He nearly got lost trying to get to the gym, but he finally managed to stumble into the locker rooms just as the bell rang. Boys were everywhere, in all states of undress, stumbling around and trying to find the locker that fit their combination number. He glanced blankly around the room, but it was impossible to tell who was a greaser and who wasn't from the back without there coats. Larry took a wild guess, heading towards the back of the locker room, and throwing his books down on the bench. He tried to open the locker - and, amazingly, it swung right open. Luck was on his side for once today, and he started to change, tugging off his jacket, and throwing it on top of his books.

"Hey, Larry!" Larry turned around. Johnny was across the room, trying to wave over the head of a hulking jock. He had no shirt on, and was just hiking his gym shorts on over his boxers. "What the hell are ya doing over there? Come over here, that fat teacher picks dodge ball teams by where your lockers are." Johnny grinned, grabbing his shirt. "And you don't want to have to play with a bunch of skinny fairies like that."

Larry flushed, noticing how nice Johnny's chest looked. (Did he work out? How did he manage to get his shirt off so messily and still keep his hair perfect? Why am I looking at him anyway?)

Larry grabbed all of his clothes, tucking them into a lump under his arm. He used his other hand to grab his exceptionally large and heavy backpack, slinging it halfway over his shoulder, and moving towards where Johnny was. It wasn't easy. The locker room was packed, and trying to slip through a bunch of half-naked guys when you, yourself, were without a shirt and had your pants unzipped and nearly down your waist wasn't really easy.

He felt someone bump into his backpack, and he looked over his shoulder, smiling meekly. "Hey, sorry!"

The boy frowned, looking quite taken back. He had his shirt off, and was trying to pull on his gym shorts at the moment Larry had bumped into him. "Well," He ran a hand through his exquisitely done-up amber hair. "Excuse you." He stressed the last part, tilting his chin up, and glaring down at him.

Larry frowned, turning around fully. "Hey, I said sorry. You don't gotta be an asshole about it."

The whole locker room had suddenly quieted. People turned around, watching the two carefully. The other boy looked surprised, his eyes going wide for a split second. The kid next to him, a very tall red head, elbowed him in the back. Immediately, he regained his composure. "Well," he sneered, looking the greaser over. "You ought to learn where your place is, oil slick. And that is to not be so disrespectable to your superiors." He gestured at the others around him, with their meticulously done hair, gym sneakers shining, silver watches on their wrists.

Larry's eyes widened. Those were preppies; those snobs Johnny had showed him. He could almost feel the other greaser's eyes boring into the back of his head, prompting him to come up with a better comeback. "Pretty funny thing to come out of a kid who got a thirty on that English pop quiz," Larry said quickly.

The amber haired boy frowned, feeling his face turn slightly red. He looked Larry over, trying to find a weakness. And then he suddenly smirked, taking a haughty step forward that made Larry stumble back against one of the tall lockers. "You're one to talk…" His eyes roved downward, and his face split into a wider smirk, if possible. "Peanut."

Larry's whole face burned bright red, and his arms shot downward, covering his small groin. He knew he should have zipped his pants up, he knew it! That pair of underwear was way too tight, it showed… certain things. All of the preppies immediately started to cackle, that controlled, practice laugh that seemed so fake. Behind him the greasers were grumbling quietly, and Larry felt his ears heat up. He turned around suddenly, ignoring the preps' laughs and walking next to Johnny. He plunked his things down on the bench, ignoring everyone as he stared hard at the locker.

The laughter eventually faded, though the mumbles of "Good one!" and "Peanut!" did not. Larry got dressed quickly, and was nearly about to walk right out the door into the gym when Johnny's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"What?!" he snapped, a little too harsh. His vision immediately softened, though, and he looked towards the ground, rubbing his arm awkwardly. "What do you want?" he mumbled.

Johnny smiled lightly. "Hey, man, it's alright. Those fairies are just jealous, that's all," He didn't seem to notice how Larry's face turned a bright red. "Besides, the only guy who checks out another guy's package is a faggot. Don't worry about them pussies."

Larry stubbed the toe of his shoe into the ground, looking up briefly to meet Johnny's eyes before looking down again. "Uh… Thanks, Johnny."

Johnny patted his shoulder before pulling away, walking towards the door. Larry followed, smiling slightly. "It's alright, Peanut."

Johnny stopped dead in his tracks, his face paling. "Uh, I mean, Larry. Larry?"

Peanut stomped past him angrily, shoving through the door, and leaving everyone behind. It was just a stupid thing that prep called him. It would pass.

It didn't pass. Peanut learned that the prep's name had been Tad Spencer.

Peanut didn't like Tad very much.

---

I always wondered why Tad and Peanut disliked each other, so... there you go. This story sprang up.