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Chapter Text

Author Note: I don’t own Grease or Grease 2 nor any of the characters. I only own the plot to the story and a few characters which are my own.

Summary: G rease 2 Rewrite. Michael Carrington finds himself in America after his grandfather dies with a family who don’t want him. Stephanie Zinone wasn’t looking for a boyfriend after ending things with Johnny.

Chapter 1

Rydell, California.

5 th September 1961

Michael Pov.

I woke up with a start to the same nightmare I’d been having for years since that night. The night I had killed the man who had made my mother and my lives a misery for years. My Step Father. Oliver Burton-Reed.

I stood up from the bed. I pulled an old battered tin box from the draws. I stared at the photo of my father. Matthew Thomas Carrington. I had no memories of my father; he had died in France three days before Christmas 1944. Shot Down. I was only a year old when he was killed

I looked through the photos. My parents had met in Scotland in May 1941. They had exchanged letters in secret. My father didn’t move in the same social circles as my mother. She ran off with my father when she turned eighteen.

In the eyes of my mother’s family I was a bastard born out of wedlock. There wasn’t a day when I wasn’t reminded I was a stain to the family name. And my mother had been nothing more than a common whore.

I was thirteen when I killed my step father that night. My Mother too died that night. Maybe I was lucky because my father's childhood best friend was a lawyer and good at his job. I didn’t end up on the scaffold for killing my step father that night.

I ended up living with my grandfather in East Ham, East London. I felt more at home and welcomed there than any other place I had lived for most of my life. I often wonder what life would have been like had my father survived the war.

My grandmother had been killed during an air raid a year before I was born. I smiled sadly looking at the photo of my dad and I when I was three months old on the wing of his Hawker Tempest. My father’s medals, letters and paybook also sat in the old tin box.

I sat for a time reading the letters in an old tin box of my father’s things. I folded the letters, placing them back in the box. Another photo of my father and I. This time we were seated on his 1934 Velocette GTP 250 TT.

Granddad still had his motorcycle when I came to live with him. I taught myself to ride it when I was fifteen. I had no idea what happened to it since I had left London to live here in Rydell. I glanced at the clock on the bed side table. It was half past five.

I had school in a few hours. I could hear my Aunt Evelyn moving about in the kitchen. I headed down stairs just after six thirty. There was no kindness nor love in my aunt’s eyes when she laid eyes on me. My Uncle Thomas didn’t acknowledge me either as I walked into the kitchen.

No one said a word as we ate breakfast in silence. I cleaned up my plate. I stood heading to the sink to wash up my dishers.

No goodbyes nor good luck on your first day as I headed out the front door heading for the bus stop. I had no wheels yet. I needed to find some work to make money to buy some wheels. Until then I was riding the bus or walking.

Zinone HouseHold. Rydell California

5 th September 1961

Giacobbe ‘Jake’ Zinone smiled sadly regarding his children in the kitchen. His eldest Stephanie was spitting images of his darling wife Molly. Right down to her fiery temper. They’d only had thirteen wonderful years together.

Jake recalled the night he’d met her. It had been on a miserable cold December night in 1942 at RAF Dishworth. Molly was a part of the Women's Auxiliary Air Force based at Dishworth around the same time as he had been with 426 Squadron.

She belted a fellow pilot from 426. Jake didn’t recall his name. He ended up on his back with a busted nose after he’d tried to feel her up. Molly had cursed him out. Jake couldn’t understand half of what she’d been saying. Molly’s cockney accent and the slang made it hard for him to understand her.

Vince, Hamish and terror twins Lucy and Frankie were sitting at the kitchen table. He looked over his half drunk coffee as his youngest David came barrelling into the kitchen. The kitchen was a mess with noise. Everyone was talking over the top of each other.

A car horn honking outside caught Jake’s attention. Getting up from his chair. Jake wandered to the window to see who it was. A distinctive pink Studebaker was parked outside. Rhonda Ritter behind the wheel.

“Steph. Rhonda’s here” Jake called over his shoulder.

“Bye Dad” Stephanie kissed him on the cheek as she grabbed her bag heading for the front door.

Rydell High. Rydell California.

5 th September 1961

Principal Greta McGee was preparing for her tenth year in charge of Rydell High. Blanche Matthews had been her secretary and right hand woman for all of those ten years. Blanche and Her were hoisting the flag up on the flag pole.

The screeching of tires, horns honking sounded the arrival of the horde that was the student body of Rydell High. An all too familiar Pink Studebaker cut off a bus and was barrelling towards them. The car came to a stop half on the sidewalk and half on the road.

“Rhonda there are these called breaks. You should use them to slow down instead of jumping on them at the last minute.”Sharon Cooper got out of the passenger seat a flurry of smoke trailing behind her. The Rebchuck Sisters and Stephanie Zinone got out of the back of the Studebaker.

“You don’t like my driving. Sharon you're more than welcome to walk or take the bus' ' Rhonda hotly argued back.

Sharon said nothing as she took a seat on the hood of the Studebaker. Rhonda stood to one side. Paulette, Delores and Stephanie the other.

Miss McGee's eyes narrowed as Kenneth Ellsworth parked his red Maserati GT3500 convertible by the curb. Ellsworth was the star pitcher of the baseball team. Thought he was the hottest thing on two legs. He thought himself better than everyone else.

His family was one of the town's biggest employers. If the words self entitled asshole were written about anyone it would be him.

I stepped off the bus that pulled into the front of Rydell High. I glanced around looking for Frenchy. I couldn’t see her anywhere. Sandy had said she would meet out the front. I balanced my books and lit a cigarette at the same time as someone bumped into me.

“Watch where you are going. This jacket cost me two hundred dollars” Rich asshole complained. A fucking Rupert what a surprise.

“Sod off” I swore at him. He regarded me looking down his nose at me.

I looked up as three motorcycles came down the street, a trail of smoke trailing after their riders. Glancing at the Jackets they were this year's T-Birds.

I placed my lighter back in my jacket. I stood sizing them up. The three motorcycles mounted the curb. Driving on the lawn mowing down no walking on the grass sign. They kicked up dirt and grass as they went before coming to a halt in front of the Pink Ladies I took them to be.

The T-Bird on the middle motorcycle I took to be the leader of this year's Birds. He was shorter than me by at least nine inches, maybe five foot six. The Tallest T-Bird was maybe two or three inches shorter than I was at six foot, six one. The shortest of the group had to be at least five foot four or five. While the last one was taller then the leader of Birds by three inches at five foot nine.

“Michael,” A bubbly voice asked from beside me. I glanced beside me. This I took to be Frenchy.

“Frenchy I take it” I answered, taking a drag of my cigarette.”Sandy mentioned you’d be meeting out the front” I took another drag.

“Sandy told me about your grandfather. I’m sorry for your lose” Granddad's death was still pretty raw. It had been two months since he’d passed.

“Thanks. I had a few good years with him. A fresh start for me coming over here to California. I take it that’s this year Pink Ladies and Birds” I nodded in the direction of the Pink Studebaker.

“Johnny Nogerelli the Leader of the Birds. Stephanie Zinone the leader of the Ladies.”Frenchy pointed out Johnny and Stephanie. Stephanie Zinone certainly was a good looking bird. There was no denying that.

“I’d keep it to a looking but no touching policy.”Frenchy warned as if she was reading my mind.

“I’ll keep that in mind. What are you doing back at Rydell. Sandy said you graduate with her and others at the end of your senior year.”

“I flunked Chemistry and a few other subjects. I dropped out for a time to go to Beauty School. I flunked out of that after tinting my hair pink” Frenchy began to explain. Pink I thought to myself.

Frenchy talked more of her plans after she completed her senior year again. We made our way to the office.

“Ah Miss LeFevre. A pleasure to see you again” Mrs McGee greeted them.

“Hi Mrs McGee. This is Michael Carrington. He just moved here from London. He’s Sandy Olson’s cousin” Frenchy introduced me to school principal

“It's nice to meet you, Michael. Welcome to Rydell. Your Aunt and Uncle came in Yesterday to Register you for the school year.”Mrs McGee seemed nice enough.

“Blanche. Could you find a time table for Mr Carrington here” Blanche appeared from behind the desk. Her hand sticky with what looked like fudge or chocolate

Out in the hall the Pink Ladies were at their lockers. Rhonda Ritter was scrutinising her nose in the mirror on her locker door.

“From the front this is the perfect nose. From the side this nose does not belong to this face” Rhonda bemoaned.

“So dump the face and keep the nose” Steph advised glancing around Paulette to look at Rhonda.

“What’s the new look Sharon?” Paulette asked, changing the subject.

“Jackie Kennedy. It only landed her a president” Referring to the new First Lady of the White House.

“Yeah well the Movie Magazines reckon JFK secretly prefers the Marilyn Monroe look.”Paulette’s eyes lit up when she noticed Johnny coming over with Goose.”Hi Johnny. I like your hair, in fact I think it’s really cool” Paulette breathed.

“Thanks” He mumbled at her.

“Oh. You're still giving lube jobs at the old man’s Service Station” Goose teased.

“Stuff it Goose” Steph grabbed her work shirt from Goose, shoving it in her locker.

“So what’s the story? Zinone you’ve been dodging my calls for the past two weeks” Johnny asked.

“Yeah, what's the story?” Goose butted in. Johnny shot him a look telling him to piss off. Goose muttered Sorry under his breath.

“You need me to draw you a diagram Nogerelli. It’s over. I need to spell it out for you to understand as well” It seemed Johnny didn’t get the memo that they were over.

“Yeah well that’s not good enough”

The two stooges known as DiMucci and Davey came over to interrupt them as well. Johnny snapped at them. Grabbing Louis by the lapels of his leather jacket to get his point across.

“Hello to you” Louis mumbled as he kissed Sharon.

“What’s this? The Vince Fontaine National Library '' Goose questioned pointing his cigarette at the photo tapped to the door of Rhonda’s locker.

“Quiet Please” Louis and Davey added.

“Laugh your jerk. You just wait till I turn up on the Nation Bandstand.”

“Yeah you may turn up on the Bandstand, but your beak will still be turning down” Goose, Davey and Louis mocked her.

“Louis your mean”

“That’s it. I gotta do it. The nose goes bandstand here I come.''Rhonda cried.

“I wouldn’t fool around with mother nature Rhonda” Paulette cautioned.

“You fool around with everyone else, Paulette,” Sharon interjected.

“Shut up” Paulette snapped at her. Stephanie followed after the girls. She only got about a hundred feet when she realised she’d left something in her locker.

“How long have you been in America?” Eugene the bloke assigned to show me around asked like I didn’t understand English.

“About a month. I’m staying with my Aunt and Uncle” I answered as we rounded the corner to the hallway.

Eugene was beside me one minute before disappearing the next. I thought nothing of it. I went to grab a locker. A hand slammed the locker shut a second later.

“You deaf, stupid or just can’t read English.” A cocky voice asked. It was Johnny Nogerelli.

“No. Best ya remove ya hand from my locker.”

“His locker.” His three side kicks squeaked.

“No one touches these lockers. What's the matter you can’t read? This Lockers spell T-Birds
Nogerelli slammed his hand on the locker.

“Which spell us” Tall Stooge added.

“This is a protected LandMark.”

“A slice of American History.''Greasy Stooge pipped in.

Nogerelli wrenched open the locker. Bloody hell that thing stank. It smelled worse than the piss stained stairwell of my old house.

Tall, Greasy and Shortass hummed before Nogerelli slammed the locker shut.

“You dig”

Before I could reply or Lamp the four of them.

“Johnny, when are you going to grow up?” A voice spoke from behind me. Glancing over my shoulder the voice belonged to Stephanie Zinone.

“He’s encroaching on our sacred turf Zinone.”

“Sacred turf. What you got hidden in there the crown jewels” I scoffed under my breath.

“You're asking to beat English,” Nogerlii glared in my direction.

“Oh I'm shaking in my boots mate” I could take these four knobs with one hand tied behind my back.

“Is there a problem here?”Mrs McGee suddenly asked, appearing out of thin air.

“No Problem Mrs McGee” I answered my jaw tense as I moved away to find another free locker to use.

“Mr Nogerelli, DiMucci, McKenzie, Jaworski and Miss Zinone, is there a reason you're still standing here? And not on your way to class.” Johnny plastered the fakest smile on his face and headed to home room with Louis, Davey and Goose trailing behind him.

“We’ve got to sort out that new kid,” Johnny muttered to himself as he and Goose entered the homeroom.

“More like get your ass handed to you” Steph commented under her breath. It seemed Johnny hadn’t heard her.

“You and I got to talk after class, meet me for a smoke” Johnny all but demanded.

“There’s nothing to talk about Johnny, it's over. And I quit smoking anyway”

“Yeah standing me up is also bad for your health” Not taking no for an answer it seemed.

“Says who”

“Say the Sturgeon General of the United States Stephanie” Goose pipped in.

All the boys in the classroom started wolf whistling when Miss Yvette Mason turned to face the class. At 30 Yvette Mason had a figure that rivalled that of Marilyn Monroe. She had been teaching at Rydell for the past two years as the Head Drama Class and English teacher.

Yvette was the only daughter and third youngest of Hamish Mason and Adeline Delacroix. Her parents had met in France during the First World War. Her father Hamish had been a part of the Royal Scots Guards. A week after the guns fell silent on the 11 th of November. Her parents had married.

They immigrated to America after Hamish was demobbed from the Royal Scots in 1919. They settled in Oakland. Her father got a job working on the assembly line at the Oakland Assembly for Chevrolet.

Her four older brothers were born Walter in December 1919, Andrew in 1923, Robert in 1926 and Theodore in 1928. Her younger brothers Edward in 1933 and Thomas in 1936.

I took a seat at the back of the class. I pulled off my fathers old Bomber jacket. I could feel a lot of eyes on me from my new classmates.

Mrs McGee’s voice came over the PA system.

“Good Morning Rydell. Welcome one and all to a new school year. I know this year is going to be stimulating and exciting for all of us.”

Meanwhile in Mr Claude Spires home room. He had a mental breakdown after three weeks in the last school year.

“First I would like to extend a welcome back to our own Mr Spires. Who made such a miraculous recovery from the Mental Exhaustion which sent him to the hospital last spring” While Mrs McGee was speaking overhead. Louis and Davey put a rat on the desk of a sleeping Victoria ‘Vicki’ Hunter.

“Welcome back Mr Spires we’re all rooting for you” Vicki screamed when the Rat crawled into her dress. Mr Spires who was taking his morning pills. He collapsed like a sack of potatoes on the desk. The glass of water was knocked over as he collapsed over the desk.

In Miss Mason’s class most of us were bored waiting for the first bell of the day to ring. I heard a faint sound what sounded like an explosion coming from down the hall

“Now Rydell is very proud of our extra-curricular activities. So please come out for band tryouts If you play an instrument, it’s better to play with a group then with yourself” The entire class was howling with laughter with the double meaning innuendo Mrs McGee had let slip.

“Audition for the June Moon Talent Show will be held next month. Come out one and all. You could win 100 long playing records.” That got everybody's attention. Stephanie it seemed had her head in the latest edition of Road and Track.

“Now last but not least we are fortunate to have a straight A student all the way from England” Sodding hell. I knew who Mrs McGee was speaking about.

”By the name of Michael Carrington '' If there was ever a time I want the earth to swallow me up whole now was one of those times. Everybody's eyes were now on me.

“Stand up Michael” Miss Mason stated. This would have to go in the top five most embarrassing moments of my life. I don’t think old Mrs Andrews walking in on me and her granddaughter Rebecca having sex could be topped. Or Pop walking in on me and my last girlfriend Rachel having sex.

“Alright let's all say hello to Michael Carrington”

“Hello Michael Carrington” Most of the class mocked. Fucking pricks I mumbled under my breath.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Rydell, High. Rydell California

5 th September 1961

Michael Pov

I made my way to my first class of the morning. I managed not to lamp Nogerelli nor the three stooges that followed him around like puppies. It seemed they had a nickname beside English. Shakespeare. Really original right.

History. This class I had with Stephanie. I took a seat at the back of the class. Arsehole with the two hundred dollar jacket came strutting into class. He took a seat a few rows up from me. His entire outfit probably cost close to a thousand dollars.

I had seen what Money did to people. My mother’s parents came from old money. I had lived among rich self entitled snobs for the first thirteen years of my life. I would much rather have little money but a loving family. I had that for a few years before Pop got sick with Lung Cancer from the Muster Gas. It didn’t help that he smokes two packs a day either.

Our teacher came in a minute or so later. He was a short stout pot bellied red in the face type of man. I could smell the alcohol on his breath from here. He looked to be in his mid forties. With a balding head.

“Morning Class. Those of you that are new here. I am Mr Upton” Upton introduced himself as he set his things on his desk.

“More like Upchuck.”I heard a thick Scouse accent say from beside me.

“He got a drinking problem”

“You could say that. I’m Gus. Gus Moretti. You from London” Gus question

“Yeah East Ham. Liverpool”

“I moved here with my Mum and two sisters when I was fifteen. Dad was killed in a car accident” Gus nodded.

“Sorry. My Dad died when I was a year old. My Mum died when I was thirteen. Lost my grandfather a couple of months ago Lung Cancer.”Upton started to read off the name of the call roll.

“Michael Carrington” Upton called my name. I raised my hand to indicate I was present. Upton carried on reading down the list of names.

“Kenneth Ellsworth” Rupert raised his hand.

“Zinone I heard you dump Nogerelli. Finally decided a you wanted a real man then”

Stephanie turned to face Ellsworth.

“Is that what you call your limp dicked self then a real man?” I snorted with laughter. Ellsworth glared in my direction.

“What are you laughing about you limey bastard” Ellsworth snapped in my direction.

“Your piss poor attempt at flirting mate.” I answered

“Oh that explains it. An Uneducated Cockney limey”

“What the fuck meant to mean arsehat” I growled at him.

“Your Aunt and Uncle took in their poor orphaned bastard nephew. I heard all about it”

“You shut your mouth Ellsworth or I’ll shut it for ya” My fuse was getting shorter and shorter.

“It’s no wonder your parents didn’t want you” Ellsworth pushed the wrong button. I stood up abruptly.

The whole class including Upton went silent. Michael Carrington stood to his full height of six foot three. I grabbed Ellsworth by the collar of his shirt. I slammed him against the classroom back wall.

“I’m going to say this only once, Ellsworth. Don’t ever talk about my parents again or you’ll regret it” I threatened slowly. My arm across his throat.

”We understand each other,” Ellsworth said.”We understand each other,” I repeated. He nodded. I let him go and took my seat again.

“Mr Ellsworth please return your seat.”Upton found his voice again.

“But he. Assaulted me and threatened me” Ellsworth protested.

“You provoked him Mr Ellsworth. I would if I was you keep your mouth shut for the rest of the class”

Stephanie looked up when Paulette slid a piece of paper to her. Upton had his back turned to them writing on the blackboard. What do you think about the new kid? Steph looked over her shoulder at Michael.

There was no denying he was handsome. His blue eyes found hers for a few brief seconds. There seemed like there was a lasting sadness in his eyes. Like he had witnessed some horrors growing up.

His rough but rich cockney accent reminded Stephanie of her mom. It had been five years this past January since her mom had been killed. Her dad had done his best to raise his six kids on his own in the years since.

Steph had only been twelve at the time, Vince was ten, Hamish seven, Frankie and Lucy were four. And David had been only nine months old.

I could feel someone watching me a few times during Mr Upton’s class. I looked up once, catching Stephanie Zinone watching me. We made eye contact for a few brief minutes before she turned away.

The bell rang for the second period shortly after. I gathered up my books and jacket. Gus and I had three classes together this morning it seemed.

The bell rang for lunch before too long. I followed Gus to the Cafeteria. I met his younger sisters Addie and Ellie. He introduced me to a few other people. Brandon Ferguson. He spoke with the thickest Scottish Accent I’d heard. It was hard at times to understand Brandon. He’d lived in America for a decade. But hadn’t lost his thick accent.

Then there was Anton von Zimmerman. Anton and his family had come from Germany in 51. And lastly was Mattaios ‛Matt’ Aaldenberg he was half Greek and half Dutch. He was taller than I was. He had a good three inches on me at 6’6.

“What part of England did you grow up in Michael” Anton asked looking from the book he had his head on.

“London. I lived with my grandfather for the last four going on five years” I answered.

“What about your”

“Parents” I finished Anton nodded for me to continue.

“My mother died when I was thirteen. My father died when I was a year old. A few days before Christmas 44”

“So you go family your staying with here”

“Of course he’s got family he’s staying with you idiot” Gus hit Brandon in the shoulder.

“My Aunt Evelyn and Uncle Thomas Olsen” I answered

“Olsen” Matt started to choke on his lunch. Ellie slapped him on the back “As in Sandy Olsen”

“Yeah Sandy’s my cousin what of it” I questioned.

“You know she’s all but royalty around here. She was dating the leader of the Birds a few years back, Danny Zuko. They got married the summer after their senior year. He knocked her up” Frankie cut in. I knew all this anyway

“I know my grandfather and I helped them buy their house” I had a pretty large trust fund Mum had left me when she died. When Pop had become my legal guardian he became the extractive of the estate. My Aunt Evelyn and Uncle Thomas couldn’t touch it though.

Eugene who had been showing around this morning. Was balancing his tray, and books as he passed the T-Birds table. Nogerelli stuck his foot out, tripping poor Eugene. It was like washing a car wreck in slow motion.

The poor bastard fell first into his lunch. Nogerelli and his three sidekicks sniggered. I got up from my chair. I went over to help the poor bastard.

“You alright mate” I ask, kneeling down to help him up.

“I will be alright. Thank you” He thanked me as I helped him to his feet.

After helping Eugene find a seat at the table with the rest of us. I sat back down in my seat. “So the rumours are true” Ellie suddenly spoke.

“What rumours?” Gus looked at his younger sister.

“Zinone dumped Nogerelli over the summer” Ellie nodded back to the T-Birds and Pink Ladies table.

“That doesn't mean shit to the rest of us mere mortals. Her and the rest of the Pink Ladies look but don’t touch. Not unless you want your teeth kicked in” Matt commented.

“What, I could take that little piss ant and his three side kicks with one hand tied behind my back” I cut in.

Brandon, Matt, Anton and the rest of those at the table looked at me strangely “You box”

“Sure you get pretty good at it. When you regularly get the seven shades of shit kicked out of you by your step father” I replied darkly. I had been nine when I started to fight back against my step father Oliver Burton-Reed. I had the scars to back up the stories.

No one said a word. I didn’t want their sympathy or pity. He was dead. And would never hurt my mother or I again. I didn’t regret beating that bastard to death that night.

The bell rang for the next period, saving me from explaining. I headed off to my next class. Before long the final bell of the day rang. I shoved the books and such in my locker I wouldn’t need.

I followed the others out to the front of the school. I was the only one of us without wheels yet. Gus stopped beside his pride in joy. A 40 Ford Deluxe. Matt folded himself into his 29 Five Window Ford Coupe Hot Rod. Anton and Brandon got into Brandon’s car. He had a 40 Deluxe as well. But it was a coupe.

“Hey Mike, you want a life. Or you going to take the Bus” Gus called to me as Ellie and Maddie got into the back of the Deluxe.

“Sure. A ride would be good” I agreed.

“Where am I dropping you off?” Gus asked as we pulled out onto the road. He turned on the radio.

“ Kenickie & Zuko Auto Repairs and Towing” I answered, lighting a cigarette as the latest Roy Orbison song came over the radio.

Before long. Gus pulled the Deluxe up at Kenickie & Zuko Auto Repairs and Towing. “Thanks for the lift” I thanked Gus as I got out.

“No worries Mate. You need a lift to school in the morning” Gus asked.

“No I’ll be right” I answered

I winced when I heard Riz barking down the phone about a late shipment of parts or a late payment from a customer.

Doddy and Sonny were working on a DeSoto. Danny was under the hood of a Mercury, Putize was working on a Buick. Kenickie was nowhere to be found. He must be out on a tow job.

“Michael '' Sandy appeared in the doorway of the office with my second cousin Christopher on her hip.

“Hey Sandy”

“How was your first day?” Sandy asked, kissing me on the cheek.

“Not too bad. Nearly got in a fight with this year's T-Birds before school even started other than that it was fine” I answered.

Danny came over taking Christopher from Sandy.

Sonny had been wandering across the floor to grab something when Kenickie came roaring in the tow truck, a 48 International KB-5. A rough looking Oldsmobile hooked up to the back.

“Where you get this hunk of junk” Sonny sniggered as Kenickie got out of the tow truck.

“Got it for a good price. All she needs is a better TLC. Lick of a paint. She’ll be right as rain.”Just then the bumper fell off.

“You sure about that Kenickie” Doddy observed kicking one bald tyre.

“She may not look like much now. But she’s got a kicking motor under the hood” Kenickie with the help of Putize, Danny and I unhooked the Oldsmobile from the tow truck.

Kenickie pops the hood. An Oldsmobile Rocket V8 motor sat under the hood. “What was it you was saying about it being a hunk of junk Sonny”

“It was like you say Kenickie, it just needs a little work” Sonny back tracked.

“The body looks pretty straight. The motor run” I asked.

Kenickie turned her over. After a few attempts she coughed and sputtered to life. She was running a little rough.

“What do you reckon Mike?” Danny asked.

“She’s running rough. Might have to pull the whole engine and transmission out. What’s in her Kenickie.”I looked around the hood.

“Three speeds. Automatic”

“Might want to see if we can swap it for a four speed Manual. Surely the wreckers would have something” Buying a brand new one would cost more then it would to get one from the wreckers.

“They should.”

“You guys could get any work going,” I asked Danny about ten minutes later.

“We loved to take you on, Mike. But we’re overextended as it is. And can’t afford to take on another mechanic. But I know someone who might be looking for a mechanic. Hey Kenickie” Danny called over.

“What’s up man”

“Jake Zinone was looking for another mechanic right?” Danny asked.

“Yeah he was why”

“Mike’s looking for work. We would take him on. If we could afford it” Danny answered.

Jake’s Service Station, Rydell California

5 th September 1961

Jake was in his office. Going over the books. He didn’t think anything of it as a car pulled into the Service Station.

“Hey Boss. Kenickie's here to see you” His head mechanic and long time friend Paul stuck his head around the corner of the doorway.

“Show him in” Jake looked up from the book work he was doing.

“Mr Zinone, how are you?” Kenickie extended his hand to Jake. Kenickie wasn’t alone. A boy about Stephanie’s age, perhaps a little older, was with him.

“Fine, yourself Kenickie” Jake shook his hand.

“I’m good. This is Michael Carrington. He was looking for work. We’d take him on. But we can’t take anymore staff. He’s good with engines” Kenickie explained.

“Michael.”Jake extended his hand.

“Mr Zinone” A thick East Ender Cockney London accent spoke. Reminding Jake of his late wife Molly.

“You know engines then”

“Yes Sir. I worked for a mechanic shop back in London. Before I moved to California” I answered.

“How old are you Michael”

“Seventeen. I turn eighteen in December” I replied.

“So you attend Rydell. My daughter goes there perhaps you’ve met her”

“I have Sir,”I answered.

“Before I say yes. There are some simple ground rules if you work here. Keep your nose clean. I don’t need the cops sniffing around. Do your job. You’ll get paid. Now when can you start.”My now Boss asked.

“Now if you want,” I replied.

“Good welcome aboard” Mr Zinone extended his hand and I shook it firmly.

“Thanks Kenickie” I thanked him for helping me get the job.

“Hey I only introduced Mike. You did the rest. I better get back” Kenickie replied before heading out of the office.

“For fuck sake Johnny. How many times I have to tell you it’s over. Before you get the picture” I heard Stephanie Zinone yelling at Nogerelli.

“Excuse me for a minute Michael” Mr Zinone got up from his desk. Picking up the Shotgun from beside his desk.

“Nogerelli. I thought I made myself clear. Stop harnessing my daughter” Mr Zinone bellowed with his shotgun in hand.

“I just wanted.”

“You got three seconds to get on the Motorcycle of yours and piss off. Before I fill you full of holes” Mr Zinone wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“We’ll talk about this”

“Get going boy. Or I’ll make good on my threat” Jake Zinone was by no means a small man. He was a strapping six foot five. He was a quiet man. But when you get on his bad side, look out. It was like poking a grizzly bear.

Johnny seemed to get the hint. He got on his motorcycle and left. Jake relaxed once Nogerelli was out of sight.

“Remind me what I saw in that meat head” Stephanie asked her dad as he hugged her.

“Sometimes you gotta go through a dud before you find a good one, Darlin. He keeps bothering you. And I’ll use this Shotgun on him” Jake had always been protective of his family.

“I take it you’ve met my daughter’s bonehead ex boyfriend”

“I’ve met Nogerelli.” I answered.

“Right. You’ll be needing these” Mr Zinone threw a pair of old coveralls at me. I caught them.” Once you’ve changed. Go and speak to Paul. He’s my head mechanic”

“Yes Sir” I answered.

After changing into the coveralls. I left the office looking for Paul. I found him talking with Stephanie.

“You, the new mechanic Jake hired,” Paul questioned.

“Yes Sir” I answered.

“Enough of the Sir bullshit. I had enough of that during my time in the Army. Paul will do fine.”

“Yes Paul.” I answered again.

“Right, you can give me a hand with this Ford.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Jake’s Service Station, Rydell California

5 th September 1961

Michael POV

Paul and most of the other mechanics had already left hours ago. I remained behind to finish the brakes on a 50’ Oldsmobile Rocket 88. I would rather be here working late then as well I wouldn't call it a home.

More of a prison than a home. I was living with two strangers who didn’t want me there. Showed me no love, nor any sort of affection. Or that I was alive to them.

“Sodding hell” I swore as I scraped my knuckles as I removed the drum brakes on the driver’s side front.

I’d scrapped them bad enough they had begun to bleed.

“Michael I wasn’t aware you were still here” My Boss Jake Zinone appeared coming out of the office. I had thought he had left hours ago like the others had.

“I was just finishing up the brakes on the Oldsmobile then head home” I answered glancing up as I set about removing the worn out brake shoes.

“They can be done tomorrow. Mr Maxwell is not in a hurry for his car to be finished.”

“I’ve already started, I might as well finish the job” I remarked

“It’ll get done quicker with two of us doing it otherwise you’ll be here most of the night”

We worked in mostly silence as we finished the brakes on the Oldsmobile. It was done in half the time it would have taken with me doing it by myself.

“We’ll clean up here and I’ll give a lift home” Mr Zinone offered as we cleaned up

I nodded as I cleaned my hands on a clean rag. Changing back into my normal clothes.

Mr Zinone gave me a lift home in his truck. Pulling up alongside the curb. He handed me a set of keys for locking the service station if I was working late again.

I nodded my thanks before getting out. I made my way up to the darkened house. I glanced at my watch in the moonlight. It was a little after nine.

My stomach rumbled in protest. I hadn’t eaten in hours and was hungry enough to eat a horse figuratively speaking.

I quietly unlocked the front door. Toeing off my boots by the door. I quietly shut the door and locked it again.

I headed towards the kitchen to fix myself something to eat before showering and headed to bed. I doubted my Aunt and Uncle would have left me any dinner.

“Where have you been?” My Aunt Evelyn screeched as she came into the kitchen.

“Working. I got myself a job working after school and Saturdays” I replied ‛Not that you give one fuck about me anyway added under my breath.

“Where have you been, boy. You should have been home hours ago” My Uncle Thomas thundered as he came into the kitchen in his dressing gown.

“Working. I’ve got a job working after school and on Saturdays” I once again explained.

“Doing What” My Uncle asked in such a tone as if he didn’t believe me when I said I had been working all afternoon after school.

“Working on cars” I answered.

“Well, seeing as you're now working, You can pay board while you stay here” I bit my tongue to say what I really wanted to say.

Rydell, High. Rydell California

8 th September 1961

Miss Yvette Mason made her way back to the auditorium having left some books there after drama class earlier in the day. She wasn’t expecting anyone to be here in the mainly empty auditorium. A soulful yet tragically sad rendition of Danny Boy was coming from the auditorium.

Yvette paused in her tracks as Michael Carrington it turned out to be playing the hauntingly sad rendition of Danny Boy. Wordlessly she took a seat.

Yvette quietly watched and listened. Letting the music take her to another place. A sad and tragic place. Yvette wondered what had happened in Michael’s past for him to play such a hauntingly sad song.

She sat silently listening as he played the last few notes before the piano fell silent.

Michael’s Pov.

I sat at the piano lost in memories and thought of my mum. Mostly good memories. It had been mum who taught me to play the piano.

“That was beautiful but hauntingly sad” I looked up at the sound of Miss Mason's voice behind me.

“Miss Mason I didn’t realise someone was here” I turned to face Miss Mason.

“I only came back to retrieve some books I left here earlier. You have quite a talent for playing the piano. Whoever taught you was a good teacher.”

“My mum taught me before she died.”I answered stiffly.

“We could use a man of your talents. The auditions for the Talent Show later in the year are next week. If you're interested that is” Miss Mason offered.

Before I could answer, the bell rang for the next period.

“I’ll think about it and get back to you on that. I better get to class” I retrieved my books and jacket from near the piano.

Rydell, California.

10th September 1961

Michael Pov.

I woke somewhat early Sunday morning. Sunday was the only day I had free time from school and work. I was stuck at the prison I called home.

Sunday also meant going to church. When I’d lived with Pop we’d rarely gone to church. Before Mum died. We’d gone regularly keeping up appearances of a perfect family. When it was anything but that.

Now it was keeping up appearances once more. I sat silently in the back of my uncle’s Ford as we drove to St Paul’s over on Harrison Street.

The weekly fire and brimstone sermon from Father Thompson. Was the usual topic. Sins of the flesh, and the devil music known as rock and roll. I paid little attention to my thoughts.

I looked around at the faces sitting in the church. I recalled sitting in a familiar church on Sunday like this. Playing the role of the perfect son and family. Hiding the bruises or broken bones. They had all seen it. But had done nothing.

The service was over for another Sunday. I stood off to one side. My hands in my pockets kicking dirt about till it was time to leave.

“Oh Michael” I groaned when I heard the voices of Stacey and Grace Watkins.

“Stacey Grace” I politely replied. I wasn’t in the mood for idle chit chat today.

“We were wondering if you’d play for the Talent Show Auditions next week. We won’t take no for answer.”

“Miss Mason already asked me. I said I’d think about it. And I am still thinking about it” I replied.

“Michael” My Uncle Thomas jerked his head beckoning me like a dog.

The ride home to my Aunt and Uncle's loveless home was as quiet as the drive to the church had been. I tuned out my Aunt and Uncle conversation. Something about going to see friends of theirs that afternoon.

There was no point in asking. I wouldn’t be invited to come, not that I even wanted to go. I had no doubt by the time I turned eighteen I’d be booted out of the house. They had never wanted me there in the first place.

To be perfectly honest the feeling is mutual. I would have gone to live with Sandy and Danny. But seeing as I am underage. I had to live with them, I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I was putting away money not just for some wheels but a place to live once I turned eighteen.

Once we got back to the house. I headed up to my room. About ten minutes after we got back I heard another car pulling into the drive. I changed out of my clothes this morning. An old greasy pair of jeans, a white t-shirt with button up shirt over top plus my Dad’s jacket.

I headed out the back door. My Aunt or Uncle paid me any mind as I left the house. Heading for the one place I could find some solace, where I could breath.

The beach held good memories for me. It was a rare summer that Oliver Burton-Reed, my stepfather, was away on business for the whole summer. Where he’d gone Mum and I didn’t care. I think I was about eight, maybe nine at the time.

We took the train down to Plymouth to visit my Uncle Alex Dad’s only surviving brother. He was based at Bickleigh Barracks as an instructor at the Commando School at the time. Before transferring to the 45 Commando in Malta.

They had since transferred to Aden in the Middle East last year. Last time I’d seen Uncle Alex was at Pop’s funeral.

While we’d been in Plymouth. The six of us went to Beach. Those weeks we spent in Plymouth. Where perhaps some of the happiest of my life. That was a rare time I saw Mum smile. She was happy, no fear in her eyes.

For those weeks I had a Dad. The closest thing I would ever have to a real father. When it came time for us to go back to London. Neither of us wanted to go. If I could choose between going back to London, or staying with my Uncle Alex, Aunt Audrey and my cousins. I would rather stay with them then go back.

I pulled the well worn photo from the inside pocket of my Dad’s Bomber Jacket. There were three photos I kept in the jacket. One of my parents on their wedding day. The one of my Uncles and Dad taken just after war was declared in September of 39’.

The other was the whole Carrington family Nan, Pop, Dad, my Aunts and Uncles. Dad was one of ten children. Six boys and four girls. Uncle Alex was only one of the six who went off to war to return.

Two of my Uncles, one whom I was named for, died when HMS Hood was sunk by the Bismark in May 41’. Another died when Singapore fell, another in North Africa. And Dad who was killed in action after being shot down a few days before Christmas of 44’.

I stared at the ocean as the waves came crashing in and back out again. My hand touched my father’s St Michael Medallion. I still recall the day Mum gave this to me.

It was the day after another night getting the seven shades of shit kicked out of us by my so-called loving step father. Thinking of Mum, Dad, Pop those I had lost and had never known made tears well up in my eyes.

“Why are you sad for Mister” I looked up as a boy of six, maybe a little older asked.

“I was thinking about my Mum” I answered.

“You anit go no Mom like I do. Mine died when I was a baby so I don’t remember her at all. When did you lose your Mom'' The boy asked with wisdom far beyond his years

“I was thirteen when she died,” I replied.

“Your Dad misses her. My Dad he anit never gotten over losing Mom”

“I don’t know him either, he died when I was young. Killed in the war” I tried to explain.

Rydell, California.

10th September 1961

“Giacobbe have you seen David anywhere” Jake Zinone looked over at his mom Maria Francesca Zinone.

“He was here just a minute ago.”Jake looked around for his youngest son and child.

“Vince Hamish have you two seen David” Jake asked his oldest two boys.

“Nah sorry Dad we haven’t” Both boys answered.

Frankie, Lucy hadn’t seen David either. Perhaps he’d gone with Steph somewhere. Spying on his eldest daughter.

“Steph, have you seen David?” Jake asked.

“No, I haven't seen him, Dad. I doubt he’s gotten far”

“DAD” Jake looked up hearing David calling to him. David wasn’t alone. Jake was surprised to see his newest part time mechanic Michael Carrington was with David.

“David where did you run off to”

“Just a little ways down the beach dad” David answered

“David you shouldn’t have run off like that. Michael, thank you for bringing him back” Jake turned to me.

“It wasn’t a problem Sir.” I say in reply before I start to leave. My eyes locked with Stephanie for a few brief moments before I left.