User blog:TheToughGuy/Transferred To Bullworth (TheToughGuy): Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23: RACING JASON VINCENT

Sunday was a step up from yesterday in terms of weather. It was cloudy with cold winds breezing through town, freezing anyone who didn’t have anything warm to wear. It doesn’t sound much, but at least it was not raining like it was yesterday. Good thing too, because today Cameron and I were finally meeting up with Jason Vincent, leader of the Greasers.

During my stay here at Bullworth, I have heard some stories about Jason. He may be the leader of the Greasers, but he spends a lot of his days at his father’s garage repairing vehicles. As soon as any car enters the shop, he knows what the problem is and can fix it. He can make any slow vehicle into a fast car, and that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

When he’s not in the classroom or the garage, he is either beating up rich kids who enters New Coventry or racing in some illegal street race. He was the fastest out of any racer in Bullworth, and the cops still have yet to catch him in the act. They can’t even bust him either outside of the races because he hides his car in places that the cops never bother looking into. He’s smart, not just in street smarts but also in common sense. He is also fearless as he led the Greasers’ attack against the Preps yesterday and told his boys to retreat as soon as the Prefects showed up. Smart and fearless, he is the perfect ally for our cause, and we were going to meet him for the first time.

He, or rather one of his friends, told us to meet him at his father’s garage near the overpass. Cameron and I quickly jumped into my car and drove over to New Coventry. “So, New Coventry? What can I expect from this district?” I asked Cameron while crossing the truss bridge to Bullworth Town.

“New Coventry is one of the poorest districts in the entire town as well as one of the most crime-ridden”, Cameron begin to explain. “You can expect a lot of things to happen while being there. You can expect either getting beaten up by the Greasers or mugged by the criminals that inhabit the streets. Some occasions, you can even see a couple of the Townies making their way from Blue Skies just to jump a few Greasers and homeless.” “Townies?” I asked. “They hate school kids and will attack them on site. Best to steer clear from them.” “They could probably be useful,” I considered. “No, they’re unpredictable and dangerous. Best just stick to the school cliques if we want to take the Jocks down without complications,” Cameron says.

After crossing the bridge, we cut through Bullworth Town, turned onto New Coventry Road, and followed it under the overpass and into New Coventry. The garage was on our right, but we couldn’t park it on the street, nor could we turn onto the road on our right as there was a bend, bullet hole-riddled Do Not Enter sign beside the road. I turned to Cameron and she said, “Follow this street through the district. We’ll find a turn and make our way back to the garage.”

I accelerated and followed the street past several shops, one of them being a Chinese restaurant. “We ought to go there for our next date,” I suggested. “Great place. I’m sure you would love it there,” Cameron says. But while we continued driving, I noticed all sorts of people on the streets. What Cameron said was true: there was mainly a bunch of scum and homeless. Tons of prostitutes as well, and at one point, I think I may have seen a mugging going on. Yeah, not my ideal place to live in. If this was where all the Greasers were raised, then I’m glad that I never got to experience this lifestyle. Thank you, dad, for making sure we didn’t live in places like this.

A few minutes later, we made it to a T-intersection. “Turn right,” Cameron says. “It’ll lead us back to the garage.” I turned right and drove passed what looked like a rundown train station as well as a small Spazz Industries warehouse. Finally, we made it to the garage. I drove my car into a dirt lot behind the garage and parked it. Once Cameron and I got out of my car, I quickly locked it and set the car alarm on. “Let’s hope we can hear it from inside the garage,” Cameron says. “I’d hate to come back outside and see that my radio is missing all because we couldn’t hear the alarm,” I said. “So, you ready to meet the famous Jason Vincent?” Cameron asks me. “As can be. How about you?” I asked. “Let’s do it,” Cameron says as we both walked to the front of the building.

We both entered the office door and walked up to the counter where there was an older man, possibly in his thirties, counting the cash in the register. He was a brutish-looking guy with thick brown hair, brown eyes, and a stud earring in his left ear. He also looked as if he takes care of his own body, most likely to beat any customers who probably try to get away with not paying. Just from his physical appearance and what he had on – a black leather jacket, white T-shirt, and blue jeans – he must have been a Greaser at one point in his life.

“How may I help you?” he asks as we approached. “We’re looking for Jason Vincent. Is he here?” Cameron asks. “What do you want with my son?” the guy quickly asks. “Oh, so you’re his dad?” I said. “Yeah,” Mr. Vincent says. “I’m his dad, and he’s my son. He’s a good mechanic like me, he’s fearless like me, and he’s leader of the Greasers like I was twenty years ago.”

“You were the leader of the Greasers years ago?” I asked. “Yeah, I was,” he answered. “I wasn’t as good a leader though like my son. Spend too much time obsessing over a harlot and getting my crews’ asses handed to them by the Preppies all because of it. Glad she’s out of my life for good. This business would not have gotten off it’s feet had she stuck around. The only good thing that she brought was giving birth to my son and that was it. There’s a lesson to all of this: cut out the deadweight in your life, otherwise it will hold you down for the rest of your days.”

“Lesson learned, I guess,” I replied. I did not have any deadweight that I know of, but I hope that I don’t make the same mistakes that Mr. Vincent here made. Hell, I hope I don’t make the same mistakes as my dad made years ago. Of course, I don’t plan to rob banks and kill people for a living, although he did stop all of that as soon as he found out that I was going to be born. But it is rather interesting that Jason chose to follow in his dad’s footsteps. I wonder if he made the same mistakes as his father’s or made some of his own.

“So, can we speak with Jason please?” Cameron asks Mr. Vincent. “Yeah,” he points and answers, “he’s working on the blue Stallion down there. I’ll go get him. It’s about time he got a lunch break anyway.” He walked through the door into the garage bay and went to get him. Cameron and I both watched as he tapped Jason’s shoulders and pointed to us, letting him know that we needed to talk to him. There was anther Greaser with him: the same one who tried to take Jake’s package from me as well as the one who I threatened that day when I helped Jaquon extort the cliques of their money.

Just as he looked over Mr. Vincent’s shoulder and saw me in the office, the hatred on his face took over and he quickly ran into the office and tried to tackle me, only for me to step out of the way and trip him into the wall. He smashed face first into the wall and quickly fell back onto his butt, holding his nose as drops of blood started flowing out of it and onto the floor. “Remember what I said that day at the Auto Shop? Fight me again, and I’ll break your hand,” I reminded him. Just as he was about to get back onto his feet, Jason quickly told him, “Daniel, stand down.”

“But he….” He started to say, but Jason quickly replied, “I SAID STAND DOWN.” With Jason in the room, I took a good look at his features. He looked almost exactly like his dad, only with auburn hair rather than brown. And just like his dad, he looks like the kind of character who will not mind giving you an ass-whooping if you wrong him.

“If there’s going to be any fighting of sorts, I highly suggest that you all go talk outside. Perhaps in the abandoned railyard behind the shop,” Mr. Vincent suggests to all of us. “You heard my father. Everyone outside,” Jason says. We all then walked out the front door and walked around the building to the railyard.

The abandoned railyard looks as if no one has been there in years. There was bushes and tall grass growing over the rusty rails and beside the old boxcars. From how the railyard looks, it seems that some of the rails appeared to go straight to Bullworth Town at one point before the overpass was constructed. There also seems to be another part of the branch that goes pass the abandoned train station and possibly to Blue Skies Industrial. Just from the looks of the boxcars here, they must have been left here for maybe thirty or forty years. I wonder if there are any hobos or rats living in them now. They could probably have their uses if I ever got into any trouble with the cops or just need a quick place to hide.

Once I got finished with observing the railyard, I turned back to Jason and started to introduce myself. “My name is Greg Winston, and this is Cameron Joseph. We wanted to speak with you about….” “I know who you guys are, and I know why you’re here,” Jason quickly says. “You want me and my gang to help you fight against the Jocks who humiliated you that night on the field. I know what’s been going on. You got the Nerds and the Bullies to put aside their differences to help you with your cause. Sounds rather selfish on your end.”

“It’s not just about what they did to me,” I told him. “It’s about making the school a better place. For years, Jake and his group has been extorting your group of your cash and they’ve been tormenting everyone under their rule. The Nerds and the Bullies have had enough of their rein and joined my cause to put an end to it.” I turned to Daniel, whose nose was still bleeding after crashing into the wall, and I told him, “I still remember the ambush that you and your friends set up last month. If I recall, your friend told Jaquon that you guys were tired of being extorted of your cash every week, and I’m quite sure you guys got punished severely for it, correct?”

Of course, I should have known better than to expect a reply from him. He just stood there with an angry expression on his face, with hatred gleaming off his eyes. I turned back to Jason and hoped that he would reply to my question. “Keep talking,” he replied. “If you join and help us,” I begin to explain, “then we will make the school a better place. Hell, you guys just may become the kingpins of the school. No more getting harassed by the Jocks, and you can get back at the Preps. You can possibly get the chance to egg or spray-paint Harrington House if the Jocks get out of the way.”

Jason looked at Daniel for one second before turning to me and says, “You are the real deal.” “Excuse me?” I asked. “I thought you were just the poster-boy for the rebellion against the Jocks, but I can you’re serious,” he says. “Have you not been to any of the football games these past few weeks?” Cameron asks him. “Hell no,” he answers, “too boring for our tastes. We prefer real men’s sport: street racing.” “So, you’ll join our cause?” I ask with a sense of hope filling me inside. “No,” he then answers.

“No?” I asked. “Why not?” “You have to prove yourself worthy, not that you are, faggot,” Daniel tells me. “Don’t pick on Greg,” Cameron tells him. “Fuck off, you over-privileged bitch,” Daniels retorts. I stormed up to Daniels and was about to say something awfully dirty to him when Jason intervenes and says, “Daniels, go take a walk now, or I’ll shove a monkey wrench so far up your ass, you’ll have to stand up for the rest of your life.”

“This guy worked with the Jocks and beat me up twice. You’re seriously going to talk partnership with him?” he asks in disbelief. “What did I just say?” Jason asks him. “Go.” And just like that, Daniel turned around and headed back to the garage. “Never had the chance to tell you thank you, by the way,” Jason tells me. “For what?” I asked him. “For knocking him on his ass,” Jason answers. “He thinks he’s so high and mighty all because he knows how to bust into cars and hotwire them, something that no other Greaser in the clique knows how to do.” “There is EyeFind or Google if you want to learn how to hotwire them,” I told him. “Most of us don’t even have computers at home,” Jason tells me.

Before I could reply to that, Cameron brought us back on the subject. “How would he need to prove himself and get you guys to join our cause?” “We Greasers are proud of our own cars”, Jason begin to explain. “We race in them and that’s how we usually get our money to pay those Jock scum our fees. Hell, our own initiation test is based around seeing whether a recruit can handle the heat and driving at high speeds before they become one of us. You want us to join, then Greg here must race us and achieve at least third place. We usually have four racers in each race. He enters second place or higher, we’ll help. Third and fourth place, you guys better be able to accept the shame.”

Cameron looked at me with a look of concern on her face. Too be fair, I was worried too. I have never once partaken in any street races, not even back in Liberty City where it was popular. If I total my car, then I’m going to have to find a good paying job to buy a new one, and that was something that I was not looking forward to doing. However, I could not walk away from the help that I so desperately needed. With no other choice, I then asked him, “When is the race?”

“Meet us here back at the garage at 8:50 PM. Race starts at 9:00, so be sure you’re here and enter by then. We’ll be doing a simple circuit race all around New Coventry. As for the racers, … Well, I can’t say for sure if they’ll give you a warm welcome the moment you show up at the starting line. Just be here and we’ll see if you’re worth helping.” He turned around and started heading back to his father’s garage.

My first street race, I thought to myself. ''What did I just get myself into? Well, can’t back out of it now. Got to do it just for their help. Maybe it won’t be too bad. Maybe the cops won’t get involved. I’ll just have to wait and see.''

9 Hours Later; 8:50 PM

 

Nine hours after our conversation with Jason, Cameron and I were back at the garage where the other racers have gathered. Among them were Jason, Daniel, and another Greaser that did not look familiar. There was a few more guys, but I think that they were going to wait till Jason and I were done with this race.

I quickly parked my car, got out, and then joined Jason and his friends, who were looking at a map of the town posted on the wall. “So, what’s our race track going to be tonight?” I asked Jason while looking at the map. “We’ll be doing the New Coventry Loop,” he says while outlining the course.

“The starting line will be over at Blue Balls Pool Hall. When the race begins, you first must make a right turn at the intersection by the New Coventry Medical Center. Then you follow that street till you reach this intersection by the garage. When you reach this intersection, turn right again, and follow the street again, avoid crashing at the two sharp turns, and you’ll be back at the starting line. There will be three laps. I hope you’re familiar with New Coventry by now.”

“Just a little, but at least it’s not a big district,” I told him. “Let’s get started now. I’m tired of training the newbie,” Daniel says to Jason. “Man, fuck off already,” I told him. “ENOUGH,” Jason yells. “Just get into your cars already.”

I quickly ran to my car and opened the door, but then another hand reached out, grabbed it, and slammed it shut. It was no mystery as who it was. “You best be careful out there, asshole,” Daniel says while holding the door shut. “One mistake, and you’re as good as dead out there. It’s not a surprise that you know deep down that I’ll be gunning for you out there on the tarmac. I’m going to beat your ass, and when you cross the finish line last, I don’t ever want to see your ugly face around here again.”

“Spoken like a true sportsman,” I said sarcastically before replying, “I’m not afraid of you.” He lifted his hand off my car door and stormed off to get to his ride. I hoped in my car and quickly put my seatbelt on. Before I could pull out of the parking lot, Cameron quickly ran up to my car and knocked on the window. I rolled it down and she quickly told me, “Be careful out there. I think that Daniel guy will try something crazy out there.” “Yeah, I got that feeling too,” I told her. She backed away and joined the other Greasers in the crowd while I followed the other cars to the racing line.

When we each lined up at the starting line, I noticed what kind of cars the others were driving. Jason was driving a blacked-out Stallion with some flame vinyls on the sides and front. Out of all the cars at the line right now including my own, it was the best looking one. Next was Daniel’s car. He was driving a dark orange Kuruma with some black stripes curving across the sides of the car. Then there was the other Greaser. He was driving a silver 4-door Sentinel with some checker flag vinyls and 00 painted on the side, and it sported a carbon filter spoiler on the back. Each of those cars looked impressive but it was their performance that was going to help them get to the finish line.

I couldn’t help but wonder how the race was going to start. It wasn’t till a random chick with a flag in her hands came out of nowhere and shouted to us when we could start. “When I drop the flag, you guys may begin,” she shouted. While she held the flag high in the air, everyone else kept revving their engines, waiting to pull out at a moment’s notice. For what felt like an eternity, she held the flag until she finally decided to drop it on the ground. Everyone pulled out of the starting line and the race began.

I was the last person to pull out of the starting line, so I was in dead fourth place. I accelerated my car several feet before having to make the right turn at the first T intersection. While trying to catch up with the car in third place, I decided to turn on the radio. Can’t race without listening to some music, I thought. I hope Eric has something good on right now.

I turned the radio on and just as I did, I recognized the song that was playing: Hand of Blood by My Bloody Valentine. “Good, this is my kind of song,” I said to myself as I accelerated towards the closest car. As I got closer to the car, we suddenly had to make the next right turn. I immediately hit my brakes while the other car accelerated. It moved too fast while making the turn and spun out of control. It suddenly flipped over a few times and crash landed into the alleyway. What was once a good-looking Sentinel was now a crumbled mess.

''Did I do that? ''I thought as I drove past him. As I swerved pass the two sharp turns on the street and continued racing to the finish line, I couldn’t help but think one thing: ''Don’t make a turn at high speeds. ''A few seconds later, I crossed the finish line. The first lap was done. Now there was only two more laps left. Two laps, two racers. What could go wrong?

I turned right at the first T intersection and then started catching up with Jason and Daniel. From what I could see, Jason was in first place while Daniel was struggling to get by him. I slammed my foot on the gas to catch up with them, but then I suddenly had to slow down as we were approaching the next T intersection. Once all three of us made it past the intersection and sharp turns, that was when I finally got a chance to catch up with them. I was now side-by-side with Daniel, but that was the worst decision that I have ever made. Without realizing it, he slammed his car into mine, trying to push me off the road and into a wall.

I hit my brakes as soon as I was on the sidewalk, narrowly missing a hobo in the process. “That douchebag,” I said out-loud. As soon as I got back on the road, I quickly accelerated and caught up to him. By that point, we crossed the finish line again. Two laps down, one left to go.

Once all three of us made that right turn, that was when I was tied with Daniel. He noticed me right away and slammed his car into mine. I lost control of my car a bit, but once I got steady again, I slammed it into his. We repeated it a couple more times until we started approached the next T intersection. We both slowed down and made the turn. After making the turn and passing both sharp turns, Daniel tried to slam his car into mine again, but this time I decided to play dirty. When he accelerated and steered his car to hit mine, I quickly stepped on my brakes and watched as he drove onto the sidewalk and hit a nearby wall.

The sound of glass shattering as well as metal denting echoed loudly as I sped by the recent accident. It was now only me and Jason as we were only a few yards away from the finish line. At first, I thought about passing Jason and crossing first on the finish line but since Jason said I only had to come in second place just to receive his help, I decided to just let him win. Whatever prize awaited first place, I did not care about. The Greaser’s help was the only prize that I wanted.

That moment when I crossed the finish line in second place, I knew that I had the Greasers’ support. I accomplished getting another crew onboard with the war against the Jocks. I quickly parked my car in the parking lot next to the pool hall and approached Jason who just received his prize from the flag girl.

“You did good,” Jason says when I approached him. “So, you guys are in or what?” I asked him. “Consider us game,” he says. “Thank you,” I tell him as I shake his hand. “That was some good racing by the way,” Jason tells me. “You should race with us sometime. Maybe you can beat me in a race or two.” “No thanks,” I told him. Before we could say anything else, I heard a loud shattering noise coming from the direction of my car. I turned around and saw a blood-covered Daniel with a piece of pipe in his hands smashing my windows out.

“Daniel, what the fuck are you doing?” Jason asks as he rushed to him and took the pipe out of his hands. “That asshole totaled my car,” he says in defense. “No,” Jason says, “you did that all by yourself. Don’t tell lies to me.” “You piece of shit,” I said before charging at Daniel and tackling him to the ground. Without even thinking, I grabbed his right hand and snapped it backwards. The sound of bone breaking filled my ears followed by Daniel screaming and crying in utter pain. Man, did it sound like music in my ears? Not that I usually like this kind of thing, but Daniel deserved it.

“I told you I would break your hand, didn’t I?” I told him. I quickly got back on my feet, then I looked at Jason, fearing that I may have gone too far with what I did. “He really deserved it,” Jason says. He looked down at Daniel who was still on the ground and told him, “Go in the medical center and get yourself fixed up. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

The other Greasers who happened to start showing up at that moment started mumbling under their breaths with some of them saying stuff like, “He’s in big trouble now,” and “He’s going to get it.” Daniel slowly got up on his feet and walked across the street and into the infirmary.

By that time, Cameron came up and asked, “What happened?” “We got the support of the Greasers,” I told her. I then turned to Jason and told him, “We’ll be meeting in the school basement on Thursday at 6:00 PM. That’s where we’ll plan what you and your gang will do. Be aware that it could get crowded as the Bullies and Nerds will be down there as well. I don’t know how much you guys like or dislike them, but just try to be nice. This is a joint operation after all.” “I’ll make sure my group keeps the peace. You just try and make sure the other cliques do the same,” Jason says. “I will,” I told him.

With all that out of the way, Cameron and I walked over to my car and inspected the damage. On the passenger side, both windows were completely smashed. On the driver side though, the paint job was completely scratched. My car was going to need a repair.

“Swing by my dad’s garage tomorrow and we’ll fix it up for you,” Jason hollered from the other side of the parking lot. “Can’t afford it,” I yelled. “I’ll pay for it,” Cameron tells me. “Thanks, Cameron,” I told her. We both hoped into the car and then drove back to the school.

I first got the Nerds’ support, then the Bullies, and now the Greasers. That was three cliques against two: the Jocks and their allies the Preps. The Preps barely did anything, so things were looking good. I hope it stayed that way.