(Authors Note: This is my first Breakfast Club fic, so be gentle. This is
mostly a teaser to see if I get anything resembling reviews! I need reviews
to live! This story has no real "outline" so we'll just see where it goes.)
Disclaimer: I own none of the original BC characters. I don't even remotely claim to own them.
* * *
Wednesday, March 24, 1999
A ringing phone was the first noise Andrew heard. He covered his head with a pillow, but the ringing wouldn't stop, so he forced himself to answer it.
"Mmmph?" he said intelligently into the phone.
"Sir, this is your 6 am wake up call. Thank you for staying at the Marriott."
"Mmmph." He hung up the phone and forced his eyes to open all the way, taking in the extremely early morning light. Then, because he knew it was the only way to wake himself up, he rolled out of bed onto the floor. Once there, he executed fifty quick push-ups and fifty more sit-ups.
Much more awake and in-tune with the world, he made his way to the hotel shower. It was strange to be back in Shermer – he hadn't been back in ten years or so, not since his parents had died. After that, he'd stayed on campus in California even through the summers.
As he stepped under the excruciatingly hot water –exactly as he liked it, Andrew thought about the last few years of high school, but especially the Breakfast Club. They had maintained their separate groups while school was in session – he and Claire with the "popular" kids, and Allison, Bender, and Brian with the "others." Only on rare weekends and throughout the summer and in nighttime phone calls did the friendships persist. It was the easiest way around the social barriers for everyone.
At the time, at sixteen, it had seemed the right course. But now it just looked like cowardly bullshit on the parts of Claire and himself. Now, at thirty-one, he'd have given anything to tell his so-called friends to go screw themselves and dated Allison openly, as he had wanted to. She was the only one who had ever – EVER – understood him. Not only that, she was the only one who had ever tried. But he ignored her in the hallways, and no relationship can bloom with that lack of respect.
He understood a lot more about respect now. His ex-wife, a beautiful woman with the brainpower of a poodle and just as much hair, had never respected him. She had cooed over his wrestling victories in college, had made love to him in the backseat of his car, and had flattered him into marriage before he knew what to think. What she had wanted was the ideal – just the idea of the high school wrestling hero, the college wrestling hero, the wrestling coach of the same college.
He thought again of the Club. During college, they drifted apart. Bender never went at all, Claire dropped out in the middle. He never found out why, but all of his letters to her came back unopened. Allison disappeared into New York, and Brian went all the way to MIT. And Andrew got a wrestling scholarship to Berkley. Now he was back in his hometown, ready to meet again the only four people who had ever attempted to respect him. They'd made that pact on the graduation day – screw high school reunions. On the fifteenth anniversary of the formation of the Breakfast Club, they'd meet again. At 7am, just like back then.
He smiled a bit as he looked into the mirror. He wanted to see them all again. Especially Allison. He hadn't thought about it until right now, but he hoped she was still single, or divorced like him. He thought that maybe now he could respect her as she deserved.
Disclaimer: I own none of the original BC characters. I don't even remotely claim to own them.
* * *
Wednesday, March 24, 1999
A ringing phone was the first noise Andrew heard. He covered his head with a pillow, but the ringing wouldn't stop, so he forced himself to answer it.
"Mmmph?" he said intelligently into the phone.
"Sir, this is your 6 am wake up call. Thank you for staying at the Marriott."
"Mmmph." He hung up the phone and forced his eyes to open all the way, taking in the extremely early morning light. Then, because he knew it was the only way to wake himself up, he rolled out of bed onto the floor. Once there, he executed fifty quick push-ups and fifty more sit-ups.
Much more awake and in-tune with the world, he made his way to the hotel shower. It was strange to be back in Shermer – he hadn't been back in ten years or so, not since his parents had died. After that, he'd stayed on campus in California even through the summers.
As he stepped under the excruciatingly hot water –exactly as he liked it, Andrew thought about the last few years of high school, but especially the Breakfast Club. They had maintained their separate groups while school was in session – he and Claire with the "popular" kids, and Allison, Bender, and Brian with the "others." Only on rare weekends and throughout the summer and in nighttime phone calls did the friendships persist. It was the easiest way around the social barriers for everyone.
At the time, at sixteen, it had seemed the right course. But now it just looked like cowardly bullshit on the parts of Claire and himself. Now, at thirty-one, he'd have given anything to tell his so-called friends to go screw themselves and dated Allison openly, as he had wanted to. She was the only one who had ever – EVER – understood him. Not only that, she was the only one who had ever tried. But he ignored her in the hallways, and no relationship can bloom with that lack of respect.
He understood a lot more about respect now. His ex-wife, a beautiful woman with the brainpower of a poodle and just as much hair, had never respected him. She had cooed over his wrestling victories in college, had made love to him in the backseat of his car, and had flattered him into marriage before he knew what to think. What she had wanted was the ideal – just the idea of the high school wrestling hero, the college wrestling hero, the wrestling coach of the same college.
He thought again of the Club. During college, they drifted apart. Bender never went at all, Claire dropped out in the middle. He never found out why, but all of his letters to her came back unopened. Allison disappeared into New York, and Brian went all the way to MIT. And Andrew got a wrestling scholarship to Berkley. Now he was back in his hometown, ready to meet again the only four people who had ever attempted to respect him. They'd made that pact on the graduation day – screw high school reunions. On the fifteenth anniversary of the formation of the Breakfast Club, they'd meet again. At 7am, just like back then.
He smiled a bit as he looked into the mirror. He wanted to see them all again. Especially Allison. He hadn't thought about it until right now, but he hoped she was still single, or divorced like him. He thought that maybe now he could respect her as she deserved.