Sitting on his bed, yearbook resting in his lap, Pete stares at the signatures from the greasers. Summer break had started a few weeks ago, and while some students had gone back home or were on vacation outside of Bullworth, he had been trapped in his dorm. Sure, he went out occasionally to walk around town, see what was new at the cinema or get some fast food, but that was it. Even Jimmy had been too preoccupied to hang out with him, which wasn't too much of a surprise. Sure, he had hoped maybe he could hang out with his best (and pretty much only) friend over the summer before the ginger went home, but when he found the dorm room closed and texts explaining he was working those odd jobs for extra cash, all those expectations had flew right out the window. Pete was used to being alone, sure, but this felt worse. Having finally made a friend and then to just be… forgotten.

So here he was, feeling sorry for himself and wondering if he could ease it by taking Vance up on his old offer. Join the greasers at the tenements, hang out and forget – just for a moment – that he was a loser. But the phone number seemed so intimidating, and as Pete grabbed his phone, he found it hard to do anything. To power it on, input his password and create a new text message. What would he say? "Hey Vance, I'm feeling lonely and wanna hang out"? Did that sound too desperate – too emotionless? Should he ask him how he was doing and hope he would be invited to hang out? He didn't know how Jimmy did it. He had seen his friend start up a conversation out of nowhere. Even whenever he would text Pete, it would sometimes just be a simple "wanna hang out?" message that seemed so nonchalant. Is that what he should send?

His phone's ringtone going off scares him, making him jump as he looks down at the caller ID. It's a familiar phone number, and it's only familiar because he's spent the past hour or so staring at it in his yearbook. With a deep inhale, he accepts the call, holding his phone up to his ear.

"Hey, Vance! What's up?" he greets, trying to sound confident as he closes the book, slipping it into his nightstand's drawer.

"How's it hangin', big daddy?" What did he call him? Pete sits there, brows knitted together and mouth agape as the name replays over and over in his head. "You got my number memorized, huh? Now why's that?"

"Ah, I was just gonna text you, actually," he confesses, "Why do you have my number? I don't remember giving it to you."

"Jimmy gave it to me," He can almost see the greaser shrug, his reply coming like it was the simplest thing in the world. "Now then, what were ya gonna text me?"

"Uh I guess – uh…" He's stuck now, mind drawing a blank. He can hear Vance on the other side, an interested mhmm coming through loud and clear, curious to hear his reply. "I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out?"

There's silence on the other end for a bit, and now he's worried that was the wrong thing to say. He should've asked how he was doing instead, cursing himself for blurting out the first thing that came to mind. However, he starts to hear shuffling, and he can faintly make out someone else in the background, but not one he recognizes from the academy.

"If you don't shut your mouth – not you, Petey – I'm gonna shut it for you!" Vance's booming voice makes him jump, the sound of a door slamming shut at the end of his threat, as if proving a point. With a sigh of relief, he starts again in a calmer tone. "Now, what was that? Hangin' out? Sure!"

"Ah, are you okay?" he asks, "Who was that?"

"Oh, ya mean the yellin'?" he chuckles, the shuffling continuing on the other side of the call. "Sorry 'bout all that. Sergio's a bit of a prick sometimes."

"Sergio?" Vance lets out a breath that sounds like a mixture of a scoff and a chuckle.

"Older bro," he tells him softly, and that airy, jokey tone has vanished. "Likes to butt into my life a lot. Annoyin', but that's why I stay away from home so much."

"Oh, I didn't know you were home…" He should've guessed. Vance wasn't one of the quiet kids at Bullworth. He was probably busy for the summer, either being home or with friends.

"Nah, I need a break," Pete can only guess he hears a window creaking open, and a few seconds later, Vance is letting out a huff. "You still at school? I'll come swing by, pick you up. We can do whatever."

"Really?" He tries to keep his cool and not sound like some desperate dweeb, but with the soft chuckle he gets, he knows he failed.

"Really. 'Sides, I told ya to hit me up whenever. That's why I gave you my number!" The comment makes him smile and Pete makes sure to let his appreciation be known. With a soft goodbye, he lets himself relax. A smile is plastered on his face and for a moment he wonders why Jimmy had given Vance his number. Whatever the reason, he doesn't dwell on it too long. He knew Vance lived somewhere in New Coventry and he didn't have long to get dressed.

Setting his phone on the nightstand, he hops up from his bed and walks over to his wardrobe. He keeps it casual, knowing Vance wasn't exactly someone who critiqued people's fashion too harshly. The first thing he grabs is the old band shirt Jimmy had left when he spent the night months earlier. It's simple enough, a white Billy Talent shirt with a little design, "like a fire!" right below it. It's a little baggy and the material isn't the thickest, but it's something and truth be told, he had always liked the shirt. Or, just maybe, he liked how cool it had looked on Jimmy and he hoped it would look just as good on him. Throwing on some old jeans and his sneakers, he ruffles his hand through his hair, ridding himself of any lint. He lingers for a moment, staring at himself in the mirror. Maybe he would grow his hair out this year? Something new.

With a shake of the head, he snatches his phone up and shoves it into his pocket, exiting his room and steering clear of Wade dumping one of the nerds into the nearby trashcan. Pushing open the doors, he jogs down the steps and makes his way over the main gate, anticipation coursing through him. A part of him is worried about how today's events will transpire. What would they do? Would Vance make fun of him? Would he flake out? He did seem eager to meet up. But was that because he just wanted to get away from his brother?

"Ay, Petey!" He looks up, sending Vance a smile as the greaser approaches. Eyeing him up and down, Vance lets out a low whistle, eyebrows raised. "What's your tale, nightingale? Ya look different!"

"Oh, I uh – I-I didn't wanna make you wait," he responds, letting out a nervous chuckle. Vance claps a hand on his shoulder, making him jump.

"Looks good on ya," he tells him. Heat rushes to Pete's face. How long had it been since someone had genuinely complimented him?

"T-thanks! You look good too!" It was the first time he had seen the teen like this. His hair had been slicked back, almost hastily, and while he still wore his leather jacket, the rest was different. A white dress shirt that had been unbuttoned, a black top underneath with matching jeans. Even his shoes were changed, old worn out high tops that were left untied.

"What? Ya like what ya see?" Vance's teasing tone brings Pete out of his daze, the greaser laughing when he starts to stutter.

"I-I just – I mean I-" He takes a moment, breathing in and trying to collect himself as they start to walk. "Y-you just look different, too. Never seen you like that."

"Got dressed quick," he confesses, and even though his tone turns to a more calmer one, his smile never fades. "Wasn't really expectin' to go out today. Glad you asked, though. Sergio was startin' his crap."

"I never heard you talk of him," That wasn't much of a surprise. Pete had often kept his distance from shop class, intimidated of the clique and their hostile personalities. He wasn't exactly the best at fixing bikes either and didn't have much of a desire for it, which was why he had skipped it when filling out what extracurricular he had wanted. "What's he like?"

Vance hums a bit, lost in thought as they pass over the bridge that led into Old Bullworth Vale. He tells Pete of how Sergio used to go to Bullworth, and how he was the main reason he got into fixing bikes and wanting to eventually move on to cars. They lived in a broken home, their father occasionally bringing home some woman for the night and locking them out. Sergio would often steal the keys to the car before they were pushed out, giving them a warm and somewhat safe place to sit in throughout the night. Vance never knew if his brother slept those nights, but he remembered falling asleep in the passenger seat, the older teen behind the wheel with a scowl on his face and switchblade in hand. They often parked on the street in the richer part of town, but Sergio was paranoid, knowing of the delinquents that roamed around. Apparently they were worse those few years ago from the stories he heard and the cuts and bruises on his brother's body when he would come home in the early mornings. Vance even bragged about knowing how to set a broken nose and pop a shoulder back into its socket, much to Pete's horror.

The stories of Sergio eventually turned into how Vance joined the greasers. Once the leader of the clique, he had filled Vance's head with stories of shop class. The stupid antics he and the others would get into, the stories and conspiracy theories Neil would tell them. They all seemed very entertaining and fun, and it was no wonder Vance had wanted to experience it. Sergio had apparently appointed Johnny's brother as leader, but had forced him to agree to watch over and take care of Vance when he started his high school life the following year, knowing how hostile the other member was. So before Vance had made friends with Lefty and made a strong connection, Johnny's older brother was right by his side, deterring any other greaser that came up with ill intent.

"Maybe you'll join us, too?" Vance's suggestion catches Pete off guard, his eyes going wide as he looks at him. Could he ever really pass off as a greaser?

"I-I dunno," he stammers softly, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. "I-I don't really see myself being… one of you guys."

"I do!" he declares, a bright smile on his face. "C'mon! When school starts up, we'll go talk to Neil!"

"We?" he repeats. Would Vance really go speak to the man with him to get him enrolled into shop?

"'Course! It'll be fun!" he tells him confidently. His head is held high as he wraps an arm around his shoulder, bringing him closer. "You'll have us to hang out with and protect you. What? You think sometimes I don't wanna goof off in class?"

The greasers had always seemed so serious when it came to their bikes, but he told a different story. How he, Ricky and Peanut would make jokes, harass each other and even start small fights. They had been sent out more times than he could count, and Pete thought what that would be like.

"I'll think about it," he finally tells him. Throwing his fist in the air, Vance lets out an overjoyed holler. Pete supposed he would be speaking to Neil when August rolled around, and he would be spending more time with the greasers. At least he wouldn't be alone.

Pete doesn't realize they've made it all the way to the carnival until the loud music reaches his ears, having been too enticed in Vance's interesting (and overly dramatic) stories. Some about the clique and some about his older brother. And as Vance pays for their way in, the greaser turns his attention to him.

"What about you?" he asks, curiosity thick in his voice as they find a bench to sit down on.

"W-what about me?" He lets out a nervous chuckle, avoiding the teen's gaze.

"I told you all about me!" he starts as he raises his voice just a bit, "Now it's your turn! What's ol' Petey's life like?"

"Not as exciting as yours," he confesses softly. Vance just scoffs, rolling his eyes with a smile on his face.

"Yeah, sure," he dismisses with that snarky tone, "I seem to remember ya bein the one to operate that old hunk of junk in the junkyard way back when."

"You mean the magnetized crane?" he clarifies, snicking as Vance rolls his eyes and waves a hand dismissively.

"Yeah, whatever," He turns back to him, grin once again appearing on his face. "Now, again, tell me about yourself!"

"W-well..." There wasn't much to tell, but Pete decided to share anyway. His story wasn't as exciting or scary, but Vance seemed to take interest. He scoffed when Pete said his parents lived decently close to the school, but he lived in the dorm room anyway because his parents wanted "some peace and quiet". No wonder he was so awkward. Vance would bet anything that his parents were to blame for the younger teen's poor social skills. Not to mention his father was a librarian, and he wouldn't be surprised if the man kept a quiet tone around the house too.

When asked about any siblings, Pete could only shake his head. His parents were dismissive of his existence, often leaving him to his own devices, only coming around once in a while to check on him. His main entertainment was watching TV or playing video games, occasionally even drawing. His parents would buy him little sketchbooks, seemingly pleased that he had found something quiet to do without them having to hear noises coming from the television set. He did admit that he had a hamster at one point, an orange and white long-haired rodent that was his best friend for a few years before it passed from old age. It was sad that he didn't even seem to have friends growing up, his parents not wanting him to go out in fear he would get hurt or taken. Maybe that was the only nice thing Vance had heard about the couple, but Pete had been right. His stories weren't as exciting. Apparently his first year at the academy had been the most thrilling time of his life, and Jimmy had been his first and only friend. Vance couldn't imagine having a life so… sad.

"How's 'bout we keep makin' this depressin' life of yours fun?" Vance suggests, a glint flashing across his eyes as he grabs the younger teen's hand, pulling him up from the bench. Pete falters and stutters out a flurry of questions, almost tripping over his feet as he tries to keep up with the teen's fast pace. Vance is just a bundle of laughter, promising him a night he wouldn't forget.

They start at the back of the park first, walking through the freak show and marveling at the people behind the glass. Alfred, the skeleton man, had been the first freak to greet them, eyeing Pete as he took a drag from his cigarette. Seeing his bones poke out through his skin had sent shivers down his spine, and his voice held something Pete couldn't quite place. As they made their way further in, they could hear Paris talking, making some remark about the show she was watching. Sitting on her couch with legs spread, she sent them an acknowledging smile as she picked up a few chips, throwing them into her mouth as she scratched at her beard. Of course, Vance had a couple remarks about her, but Pete had tried to drown him out as he led him throughout the rest of the freak show.

The others had all been interesting, and Pete had wondered how life could be so weird. Siamese twins, a mermaid that Vance wasn't too sure was real. However, the one who stuck out the most to Pete was Drew, the crazy painted man. His screaming and incoherent rambling had already made the teen nervous, but when the man threw himself against the bars of his enclosure, he had jumped back with a shriek, scared the bars wouldn't hold him. Vance had grabbed his arm, steadying him as he tried to calm his nerves.

"He's just actin'," he tells him as he shoots an agitated glance at Drew, "Guy's just some wacko. Probably doin' this for the easy money."

Pete just nodded his head as he followed him, but the screaming had stuck with him, and he was sure it would for the rest of his life. And though he didn't want to admit it, he was more than overjoyed to have walked out of the freak show, letting out a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding in. Maybe it was the dark lighting or how cramped everything felt, but Pete didn't like it, only noticing once they were outside just how close he had been walking to Vance.

"How about we try out those rides 'fore it gets any darker?" It's only now that Pete realizes the sun is starting to set. With a smile, he gives him a nod and follows him over to the Big Squid. The line moved quick through the queue, and before they knew it, they were being seated in one of the carts. The monotone voice of Freeley comes through over the speakers, the request that everyone keeps hands and feet inside and not try to stand up during the ride. And when it starts, picking up speed and throwing them around, Pete can't keep the smile off of his face, occasionally glancing over to Vance, seeing him laughing as well. It felt nice for Pete, to feel like he finally belonged somewhere or meant something to someone.

By the time they get off, both are a bit dizzy. Pete raises his hand to rest it on Vance's shoulder in order to stabilize himself, but when he finally registers the cool leather beneath his palm, he pulls away, worried about what response he would receive from the greaser. However, Vance just gives him a joyful smile as he leads him over to the roller coaster. They're not seated in the front, Pete being too nervous, so both opt for the cart in the middle.

"Lemme slide by ya there," Vance's voice is soft as he moves over Pete, who's sitting in the seat closest to the steps they had just walked up. They pull the bar down securely, Pete giving a few extra tugs to ensure it wouldn't be going anywhere. Of course this doesn't go unnoticed, and the greaser snickers softly at the younger teen's actions. Once more, they hear the monotone announcement before the ride starts, launching them towards the opening of the canyon before pulling them up. Everyone else on the ride has their arms raised, but Pete's holding onto the metal bar for dear life. And as they approach the top of the hill, he screws his eyes shut, body tensing as he prepares for the worse.

A scream is pulled from him as the coaster falls down the hill, and Vance reaches over to pry his left hand from the handle bar, raising it into the air with his, yelling at him to just let loose and have fun. Although his body is trembling a bit from the fall, he takes the advice and finally opens his eyes, loosening the grip he had on his other hand and letting it raise into the air as well. Vance is still holding his hand, palms pressed together as Pete grips him with almost the same intensity as he was the bar. However, despite the biting wind in his face and the sharp turns that throw him into the teen, Pete can't keep the large smile off of his face. Vance is right, this is a lot more fun. And as the coaster returns its original spot, the two are still laughing. The bar rises and Pete stands up, stepping out, still holding Vance's hand to keep him steady and make sure he doesn't trip as the greaser asks him how his hair looks. There's one more ride and as they walk over, Pete has to stop the teen before he pays yet again for their fun.

"You've paid for everything!" he tells him with a laugh, digging out a dollar from his pocket and giving it to the operator. "It's time I paid for something."

"Well, ain't you just the sweetest," Vance smiles at him as he leads him over to the rickety seat. He scoots over to the end, allowing Pete to climb in after him, both pulling down the bar that creaked loudly. The ride starts, jerking them forward a bit as they follow the curve up. The sun's set by now, and the carnival lights illuminate below them as they're taken higher and higher up. Pete shivers as the soft breeze picks up, but he tries to concentrate on the view around them. He can see the beach in the distance, the lighthouse's light rotating around. Their cart stops at the very top, rocking slightly and Pete looks below. They're so high off the ground, it's intimidating. Another shiver runs through him, this one out of fear.

"You cold?" Vance questions, cocking his head as he looks at him. Pete lets out a soft hum, eyebrows raised as he turns his gaze to meet his. Vance just gives him a cheeky smile as he brings his hands up, gripping his jacket and removing it from him. It was the first time Pete had seen a greaser without their iconic coat on, and he was honestly surprised to see that he actually had some muscle to him.

"U-uh… what're you doing?" Pete's confused when Vance drapes the jacket over his shoulders, but the warmth he feels is more than welcoming.

"You're cold, ain't ya?" he asks with a small chuckle, "I'm fixin' it!"

"Y-you don't h-have to," he stammers softly, but Vance doesn't seem to be taking no for an answer. He just sits there, a smile on his face as he tilts his head up, looking at the stars.

"Glad ya asked me out, ya know?" he starts, catching Pete off guard. He was glad? "Gets kinda… crazy at home sometimes, and everyone else was off doin' their own thing. Managed to find Jimmy and get your number, just to chat but… well, you had a better idea."

"Yeah, I hear ya," he agrees, going to hold the jacket close as he matches Vance's smile. "I don't really got anyone except Jimmy, and he's been busy. I'm too cool to be a dork, and too dorky to be anything else, so I'm always just… alone."

"No you're not," The confident tone makes Pete knit his eyebrows together. "Ya got me now! And soon, you'll have the greasers! Peanut's gonna be the leader, and I just know he'd be happy to have ya!"

"Maybe cause I'm Jimmy's friend," he scoffs softly, looking to the ground as the ride resumes, slowly bringing them down. "I just… I wanna feel like I exist without him, you know?"

"You do," Vance wraps an arm around his shoulders, bringing him closer to him. "You and me? We're existin', right now, without Jimmy. And you'll be existing, without Jimmy, when you join us."

"Yeah, sure. We'll see," Maybe it was the low self-esteem Pete always had throughout his life. How dull and mediocre it was, and how the most exciting thing to ever happen to him was falling in with the only two psychopaths in all of Bullworth. "Just feels like I only had a meaning when Gary and Jimmy showed up in my life."

"And you'd be wrong," As they get to the bottom and the railing lifts, the two make their way out of the old cart, thanking the man and being on their way. When they walk to the gates, Vance's arm finds its way back across Pete's shoulder and they fall into step towards the exit. "Tonight's been amazing, and it's because you asked me to come hang. Not Jimmy, and sure as hell not Gary. Don't see any of those two makin' you do this."

"You're right," he chuckles. They walk back through the tunnel, Vance still giving him a pep talk he probably needed years ago. He's still holding onto the jacket, his face tinted red and a smile pulling at his lips. It's not long before they get into a more friendly conversation, making jokes and thoughts about what the next school year would hold. Vance kept referring to him as the newest greaser, and at this point, Pete wasn't even denying him or the idea. He loved the thought in fact. To be part of a clique and feel like he belonged? Have something relatively close to a family that would care for him and make him feel like he mattered? It was almost like a dream come true.

They walk all the way back to school, sneaking past the prefects that were out prowling, looking for any students breaking curfew. It was a lot warmer inside the dorms when they entered, the doors shutting loudly behind them as they walked down the hall and towards Pete's room. However, that was as far as Vance went. Standing outside of his room, he's practically beaming at the younger teen.

"I had fun," he tells him, and Pete can only nod in agreement. They stood closely together, and the faint smell of Vance's cologne mixed with the cigarettes he smoked almost religiously had radiated off of him. It was nice, calming in a way.

"I uh – I'm uh… I-I'm really glad you called," Pete laughs, turning his gaze to the floor. "Not sure I would've been able to text you."

"Me too," Curling his index finger under Pete's chin, Vance raises his face so he's looking at him again. Softly brushing his thumb across his bottom lip, he leans in to press a kiss to his mouth. Eyes going wide, Pete stares at him in disbelief when he pulls away, hearing a chuckle. "You have a good night, Petey. Maybe we can hang out again tomorrow."

He opens his mouth to say something – anything, but nothing comes out. So instead, his just nods, his face on fire as the greaser chuckles once again. He takes a step back, gives him one last smile and finally moves to leave the dorm. Pete's knees feel weak, his heart racing, thudding so loud against his chest that it reverberates in his ears. He turns to go inside of his room, but a gasp escapes his lips. He rushes after Vance, flinging the heavy door to the dorm rooms open.

"Y-your jacket!" he calls after the teen. Turning back with an innocently confused face, he looks Pete up and down. The leather jacket is still hanging from his shoulders. It was cute that he didn't put his arms through the sleeves.

"You keep it," he tells him, a smug grin forming. "Every greaser needs a leather jacket! Consider it a gift!"

"O-oh, o-okay…" He smiles, shrinking in on himself just a bit. "Thank you! I'll take good care of it!"

Vance just nods, turning his heels and continuing his way out of school grounds and towards home. Pete watches him until he makes a right, disappearing behind the walls. With a soft sigh, he closes the door and returns to his room. He gently takes the jacket off, hanging it on the coat hanger by the door. His heart fluttered as he admired it, and he couldn't wipe the smile off of his face. He owed Jimmy his gratitude, and come the beginning of the school year, he was going to make his way down to shop class and speak with Neil about joining.