Spanky made his way towards the gym down the long walkway that went through the center of the "Quad." He was walking leisurely with some of the guys from the smoking area, Oakie and his brother Keith and a guy called Vette who got his name from the custom made baseball cap he wore every day to school. Spanky dropped something out of his pocket, it was his bic lighter and he fell behind the group to pick it up. As he stood up he accidentally bumped into a tall and thickly muscled football player who was carrying a glass bottle of orange juice that happened to drop, smashing into a million pieces.
"What's your problem runt?" The large dark haired jock said. Immediately a crowd gathered around them. It was mostly jocks, about 10 or 15 people surrounding the two figures at the center of the quad.
"Dude, I'm really sorry. Let me buy you another juice tomorrow and we'll call it square ok. I gotta run or I'll be late for class."
A high-pitched voice came out of the crowd. "Kick his ass Lance." It was a pipsqueak diving team member, the smallest guy on the team, but he was a jock and that made him royalty of sorts at WAHS. The crowd egged Lance on as he stood there deciding what to do. He really didn't want to hurt this pathetic loser but his reputation was at stake. One rule of the road was that jocks didn't show mercy to "burn-outs." It was just like that, the law of the jungle.
Spanky had been here before. He stood up, stuck out his chest, took a deep breath and all 5 feet 3 inches of him looked Lance in the eye and said, "I'm sorry man. I didn't mean it. If you're going to kick my ass go ahead but I won't fight you. I don't fight. I'm a lover not a fighter."
Lance was amused by the courage of this guy and was inclined to let him go. He was just a lowly burn-out sophomore and here he was a successful football player and captain of the wrestling team. It was very much beneath him he thought to beat this guy up but he had to do something or he'd never hear the end of it. Status had to be maintained or it vanished into thin air.
He had just grabbed his shirt by the collar when the crowd parted. It was "Bobby the Hulk." He had gotten the name on Halloween in his sophomore year when he'd dressed up like the comic book superhero "The Hulk," which essentially meant wearing ripped up shorts and painting his entire body green. He was the undisputed toughest guy in the school at least in the "Smoking Area." Bobby was walking with one of his buddies known as "DWB," for "Dirty White Boy" and he had a reputation as a scrapper as well. They were both clad in leather jackets and blue jeans, muscle t-shirts and combat boots.
Bobby walked straight through the crowd to about a foot away from Spanky. Lance looked him up and down. He had dirty blonde wavy hair that hung freely about his shoulders. He wore aviator glasses and had a five-o'clock shadow that made him look older than his 18 years. At 6'3" he was an intimidating to look at . In his boots he was about 6'5 and he was gifted with a large "V-shaped" body that he built up as an avid weightlifter. His brother, who had graduated a year earlier had introduced him to weights in junior high school and he had become an impressive physical specimen by the end of his senior year despite having given up "organized sports" after 9th grade.
Bobby had known Lance most of his life. Both of them had grown up in South County. Lance lived up on the hill with the rest of the "country gentry" and Bobby was a "flatlander." The distinction had little to do with money, as many of the people who lived down in the valley had good incomes, but there was a definite difference in style from place to place. It wasn't a big deal at a school as small as WAHS but at times like this it definitely played out. Bobby and Lance had been rivals since kindergarten. They had both played little league, soccer, and later pop-warner football. Somehow they had always managed to be on different teams so their rivalry was quite pronounced. But they had never fought each other. Just as the US and the Soviet Union had avoided war, these two "superpowers" within the town had never come to blows. Now they were standing toe to toe with each other. Lance was a superior athlete in most areas, but Bobby was a younger brother and much tougher than Lance who was an only child.
Lance was just about to grab Spanky by the throat when Bobby walked up and said, "What's up Lance?" His tone was a mixture of curiosity and contempt. he had sized up the situation as he walked up and although he didn't know the funny looking short guy with the curly hair and the goofy look on his face he detested bullies and the whole "jock aristocracy" of WAHS. He knew he could have been one of them too. Oh how they had begged him to play football where his size, speed and strength made him a devastating defensive player. But he'd given that up his freshman year after some rookie coach swore at him in front of the the entire Varsity team. He had been recruited to play as one of only two freshmen invited to Varsity tryouts. Lance being the other one. Bobby took it out on the starting QB the next play as he was playing on the "scout defense". The same coach then grabbed him by the back of his pads and told him to get the hell off the field. He was humiliated in front of the entire team, and worst of all Lance. Lance was one of the running backs and just smiled during the whole incident. The coach eventually got fired as a "hot-head" and every year the head coach who Bobby respected greatly tried to recruit him back to the team. But by sophomore year his dreams had changed. His older brother had introduced hi to weed, women and rock and roll. He felt destined to become an outlaw biker like his "old man" had been. He was determined to ride against the system with one finger in the air.
"This doesn't concern you Robbie." Lance said, swelling up with himself and proud of how he had used Bobby's childhood nickname as if it gave him some authority over him. Bobby took a step forward and was toe to toe with him. An eerie silence fell over the crowd as everyone held their breath wondering if they were about to witness a "Clash of the Titans." Bobby looked down on Lance, his boots giving him about an inch of advantage in height.
"You're taller than you used to be Lance," Bobby said slowly and cooly but with an edge like a razor. "But that's not going to help you if you hurt my friend here."
"This guy is your friend?" Lance said incredulously. "This sophomore?" He struggled for the right word. "Low-life?" He added plaintively.
"Like I said, he's my friend. You got a problem with him you got a problem with me." Bobby said looking him dead in the eye.
Lance swallowed hard and said, " I should teach you a lesson but I'll let it go this time." He let go of Spanky's shirt and walked past Bobby, eyeing him as he passed by.
The bell rang and the group dispersed.
Spanky was still standing there, sweat dripping from his forehead. Bobby stood next to him and said," So what's your name friend?"
"They call me Spanky. Thanks a lot dude. I thought that guy was going to kill me." He said as he breathed a sigh of relief.
Bobby nodded and said,"Well Spanky you got lucky today. I hate jocks and especially that one. We go way back. Be cool. See ya around." And he was gone.
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