after the huge rumble between the socs and greasers, everyone was in the lot, helping each other clean up, and smoking a shared box of cigarettes, everyone’s knuckles and faces were pretty cut up. you tended to your own cuts, wincing at every dab and drag across your knuckles.

you were taking in the cold night, glancing at everyone as they helped each other clean up, that was until you looked over behind all of you guys, to see johnny, alone, blood dripping down his face and knuckles, he was starring down at his bloody hands, not even wiping away the blood, not tending to his injury, just letting the pain set.