If you know anything about me, you're probably aware that The Breakfast Club is my favourite movie of all time. I'm surprised I haven't written this AU earlier. Hope you enjoy!

P.S. All I know about American detentions is what I've seen in movies, so forgive me if something doesn't make sense or isn't very accurate. :)


Clarke gets out of her mother's car, slamming the passenger door as hard as possible. She knows it's ridiculous and immature, but whatever. She's seventeen, slamming doors and being immature is her job, and she's tired of her mother expecting her to be an adult. Her mind goes back to Thursday night, when she came home from school with news of having to do detention on Saturday, and it still baffles her that her mother even thought to suggest to get her out of it.

"I could give Jaha a call," she shrugged, "I'm sure if he knows that you're sorry for skipping school he'll let it go."

Clarke didn't say anything back then, just huffed out an incredulous laugh and thundered up the stairs and into her room.

Clarke hates special treatment, and because of her mother's name and achievements, people seem to enjoy shoving said special treatment at her. So maybe it's a good thing she's got detention. She has to waste a Saturday sitting at a desk, doing nothing, but perhaps she'll lose some of the "good girl" theme going on about her. She's been feeling particularly burdened by it lately.

A library that's empty save for her and four other students feels weird. Assistant Principal Kane is in charge of detention, and he motions for her to take a seat.

"Late for detention, Miss Griffin? Not a very good start," he says, smiling ruefully, like a disappointed friend.

"Sorry," Clarke mumbles, out of politeness more than anything. She's only two minutes late, and it was her mother's fault, to be honest.

She sits at the desk in the front, where Monty is already sat, one seat between them. He gives her a tentative, but friendly smile. She knows him from the GSA club, he's a sweet kid, a year below her. Well, more like she knows of him. They never talk outside GSA: a situational connection, basically. She questions for a second what he's doing in detention but doesn't think on it too hard. It's probably something accidental, because he ended up being at a wrong place in the wrong time. He's too much of a do-gooder to get in real trouble.

"So," Kane says, a little loud, in a way he would've started speaking to break up any lingering conversations and get everyone's attention. In current situation it seems weird, since it was silent anyway. "We all know the rules, I hope," he grabs a box off the top of the reception stand, "phones, please," and circles the room, collecting everyone's phones. Raven — what is she even doing here? — rolls her eyes before giving it up, but Kane ignores it.

He returns to the front and continues, "There is to be no communication, we have an absolute zero tolerance for noise in detention. You're allowed to do your homework," he pauses, looking towards the seats in the back. "Miss Reyes, take your feet of the desk, please?" he says a little exasperatedly, and Clarke turns around just in time to see Raven's feet hit the floor, her arms crossed on her chest, her ponytail flopping around her shoulders at her every move. "You are allowed to do your homework, but no external materials are permitted. Yes, Mr Murphy?"

Clarke, once again, turns her head to see a boy with a very unimpressed face who sits at a desk behind hers, his hand raised. He then lowers it and takes a breath, as if preparing to speak, "Do we require a bathroom pass?" he says with an air of importance.

Kane sighs, "No, you don't need to ask permission to use the bathroom today. Just make sure you go one at a time. Any other questions?"

Silence is his only response, and so he retreats to his office, leaving the door to the library open. The angle still leaves them out of his view, so Clarke isn't worried about getting out her sketchbook and pencils. She has to do something, and she's too hung up on her family drama to do her homework right now.

"The hell?" someone behind her says after a few minutes of silence, and Clarke's head whips around to see the boy Kane called Mr Murphy look at Raven, indignant. She realises he got irritated by her putting her earphones in. "I saw you hand in your phone."

"Fuck off, Murphy," she says without heat, scrolling through the phone in her hands. "I gave him the spare one we had at home, it's old and broken."

"And Kane didn't notice?"

"Obviously not."

"Didn't take you for a rule breaker," he mutters, turning in his seat to face the front again.

"Hello, I'm in detention?" Raven says, frowning at Murphy like he's an idiot.

"Murphy's just jealous he hadn't thought of that," says the boy sitting next to him.

Clarke tries not to stare, but he's so attractive. Broad shoulders, curly hair and face in freckles. Add to that the fact that he wears glasses and she's sold. He seems like one of the popular kids – despite his quite nerdy ensemble – so she won't be surprised if he ends up being an asshole.

He also contributes to the conversation without actually looking up from the book he's reading – Clarke is suddenly really curious to know what he's reading – and he says it with a soft smile. Him and Murphy are obviously good friends (and Murphy's definitely a troublemaker, so it's unlikely they'll be nice to her even if they decided to speak to her), and it seems like they know Raven quite well.

It's kind of sad how little she knows about Raven; she seems like someone Clarke would love to be friends with. But it's understandable, considering the circumstances of their introduction to each other. Catching your boyfriend cheating on you doesn't exactly want you to share secrets in the dark with the girl he was cheating on you with. Clarke is not holding a grudge, although she doesn't know what else she could have done in that situation. It's not like she knew that Finn was with someone, and she did break it off the second she found out. If anything, she is just as much a victim of circumstances as Raven.

But, whatever, she can handle not being liked by everyone. Nothing new about that.

She realises she's been staring at Murphy's friend this whole time because now him and Murphy have paused whatever they were doing and are looking at her like she's weird. The other guy also cocks his brow in typical manner of a sassy teenager.

"Can I help you, Princess?" he says in that warm baritone of his, and Clarke feels a blush creep up her neck. She doesn't respond and just turns around to face the front and returns to her sketching, ignoring Monty's soft smile she can see out of the corner of her eye.

This is going to be a long day.


A little more than an hour later, and Clarke feels like she's going insane. By now she's drawn everything she wanted to draw, learned every little crack on her desk, examined her nails for the fifth time around, and is bored out of her mind.

No one else seems to share her feelings though, Monty has dived headfirst into his physics homework a while ago and hasn't seemed to emerge yet, Raven is constantly scrolling through her phone, Murphy is either asleep or just lying face down on the desk, and the hot guy is still reading.

Monty must notice her fidgeting because he gives her another smile. Seriously, does he not get tired of smiling at people nicely?

"So what are you doing in detention?" he asks her quietly, but considering it's been silent in the library up until that point, two pairs of eyes snap in their direction. Murphy doesn't move.

"Ditched school on Wednesday," Clarke says, not caring to elaborate. "You?"

"Jasper and I did this unauthorised experiment in chem lab," he shrugs.

For some reason she isn't surprised.

"Then why isn't Jasper here?"

"I took the blame," he rolls his eyes like that should explain everything. "He's already had two detentions this semester, he'd get suspended this time."

Clarke nods at that. They go silent once more, not knowing what else to talk about. It's not like they have anything in common, but then again, that's how it is with situational friends. Maybe if they actually spent some time together outside the school, they'd end up being close friends, but. It's not very common at their school to reach out to people. Everyone just sort of stuck to their cliques, and if you happen to not be in one, then… well, sucks to be you.

"Why did you miss school?" Monty wonders.

Clarke contemplates answering, "Oh, I—"

"Sorry to interrupt your heartfelt conversation," the hot guy says, "but we're supposed to be silent."

"Shut up, Bellamy," Monty throws at him, without turning around.

Seriously, is she the only one here who doesn't know everyone?

"It doesn't matter," Clarke shakes her head, answering Monty's question. He's probably just asking to keep the conversation going, anyway, not because he actually cares.

"Her Highness's business is too important for common folk to know about?" Bellamy says, his voice dripping sarcasm.

"What's your problem?" she says, turning around to glare at him, but for some reason her voice doesn't sound heated or annoyed, just tired. Both Murphy and Raven are watching her, and she sees Bellamy look at the apple watch on her right wrist, at her simple, but designer blouse, and it clicks. Another person who hates her because her mother is rich. Great.

"Don't think I have a problem, Princess."

It's silent for a few seconds, but then Clarke sighs and slumps in her seat, back to staring at her sketch. "Whatever," she says quietly, and they all go silent once again.


About two hours later, Monty goes to the bathroom, and Clarke is stunned when Raven drops into his seat. Clarke gives her a questioning look, hoping she's not here to discuss Finn and related issues. She really doesn't want to discuss that, especially in the hearing vicinity of Bellamy (considering his contempt of her).

"You okay?" Raven asks, and it sounds genuine.

"Yeah, why?"

She shrugs, her lips stretching into an upside down smile. "Just seem sad."

Clarke considers whether she should say anything. It's been over two months since the whole incident with Finn, and this is the first step Raven has taken to establish some sort of truce between them. She feels like she should take the opportunity, plus she feels terrible about everything that happened, so she can't just ignore it.

"Had an argument with my mother."

"About?"

"This detention," Clarke says, and Raven keeps watching her without turning to face her. "She wanted to call the principal and get me out of it, said me doing detention looks bad and everything…"

Somebody huffs out a mean laugh at that, and Clarke doesn't even need to look to know it's Bellamy. Understandable. This probably confirms whatever stereotypical expectations he's build up about her by now. But whatever. She's here, right? She didn't use her mother's privileges and accepted her punishment. If he wants to have a problem with something that's out of her control, he can knock himself out. Not like he knows her as a person or anything.

"I'm sure it was really hard for you to say no to that," he says, and Clarke decides to ignore him once again. She's not going to rise to his bait.

"I believe Monty told you to shut up, Bellamy," sing songs Raven, while still looking at Clarke. He doesn't say anything to that, and Raven looks at her hands, suddenly fidgeting. "I, uh— broke up with Finn. Over a month ago, actually. I assume you knew?"

Clarke pauses, tense. Of course she knows, Finn called her and texted her and showed up at her house a thousand times, trying to win her back. She turned him down every time, though. Until he stopped a few weeks ago. "Yeah," she says quietly. "I knew."

Raven nods. "Look, I'm sorry about how everything went— Then. But I appreciate you not jumping him as soon as we were broken up."

"Girl code," Clarke smiles. "Plus, cheating asshole isn't really my type, so."

"Good," Raven grins, "so why'd you skip school?"

Monty returns at that moment, and gives Raven a pointed look. "Off my seat, please?"

Raven rolls her eyes and moves a seat over, so that she is now sitting right next to Clarke. She nudges Clarke with her elbow, to tell her she's still waiting for a response.

"Oh, uh— It was a family emergency," it's silent and she can pretty much feel everyone staring at her, and she debates telling. But it's Raven asking her. She has to try. "It was the anniversary of my dad's death."

"Oh," Raven says, looking down at her hands again. "So… did you spend the day with your mom?"

Clarke swallows. "Actually, no, she was working."

She thinks of the day she spent sitting on a cold bench at the cemetery, crying and remembering the best moments she had shared with her father, and suddenly feels like she wants to run and hide.

"Excuse me," she says, getting out of her seat, leaving all her stuff there. She storms past Bellamy and Murphy, who both look up at her, confused, Murphy balancing a pencil on his nose, and heads towards the shelves with books, away from the study area.

It's overall quiet and the sound carries well, so she hears Bellamy say something like well done, and he must be talking to Raven because she responds with, "I'm not the one acting like an asshole and treating her like crap," but it doesn't sound like they actually have a problem with each other. Damn them for being friends. How do people even make friends? Clarke doesn't understand how it can be so easy for some people. The only person she's ever been close friends with is Wells and he's dead, so. She has no one.

She manoeuvres her way through the aisles until she's in the very back, in the classics' section. There she finds a copy of The Tempest and sits down on the floor, turning pages quickly to find her favourite moment, when Miranda and Ferdinand meet and fall in love. She tunes out faint sounds of the others' conversation and relaxes as she reads on. Reading this play always helps her relax.

Sometime later, when she's almost finished the act, somebody sits down next to her. It irritates her like it always does when someone interrupts her reading, but then she turns to look and realises with trepidation that it's Bellamy who found her here.

"What are you—" she pauses, not wanting to sound rude. "You distracted me."

He nods, no rue in his expression. "What are you reading?"

She flips the book closed wordlessly, showing him the cover.

"The Tempest," he says, raising his brows. She braces herself for another sarcastic comment, but it never comes.

"Yeah," she answers him, just to fill the silence, opening the book to the moment she was at. "It was my father's favourite. He used to read it to me a lot."

"Why did he like it?"

Clarke pauses, thinking about it for the first time. When someone sees her reading classics, their first question is usually how boring the book is. And she understands it's not for everyone, but she wishes someone asked her what was good about it. She never contemplated, however, why her father liked this particular play.

"I think…" she says, pensive. "He cared about justice a lot. Maybe a little too much. And that's one of the themes of the play, right? Sense of justice and how people shape it to serve their needs and calm their conscience. I think he liked how morally ambiguous and open to interpretation it is," Clarke pauses, biting her lip, looking down at the pages of the book, but feelings Bellamy watch her. "And he loved really dramatic plots, but that's any play by Shakespeare for you, so."

He huffs out a soft laugh. "Hell is empty and all the devils are here," he quotes, and Clarke turns to look at him incredulously. She doesn't know why she's surprised, he's clearly a nerd.

She loves it.

"That's actually my favourite quote," she says.

"I like Macbeth better. Prefer tragedies. They're fun."

Clarke can't help but giggle. "Yeah, that makes complete sense. Nothing more fun than a good tragedy where all the characters you love end up dead."

"Exactly," Bellamy grins. "The Tempest is tragic, too."

"It has elements of comedy as well," Clarke says, looking away once again. "Maybe that's another reason why my dad loved it. He always said comedies were too boring and tragedies were too sad."

"Don't know about that. Tragedies were kind of a thing in my family," that phrase could be interpreted in many different ways, but Clarke doesn't push. It's not like they know each other or are even friends. "My mom used to read Julius Caesar to me and my sister a lot. Octavia loved it."

Clarke doesn't know what to say to that, so she aimlessly flips through the book, just to have something to do with her hands. After about a minute of silence, Bellamy sighs.

"I'm sorry I was mean to you, Clarke. I didn't know anything about you and made assumptions, and… I'm sorry. You deserve better."

She turns her head to look at him, and his expression is genuine, regretful.

She gives him a smile. "Consider yourself forgiven."

He grins back, then gets up and offers her a hand. She takes it. Maybe this detention is good for something, and she'll make some friends for once. Bellamy definitely seems like someone she could be friends with.

She just has to stop thinking about how hot he is.


They sit together after that because they want to talk, and Monty's still busy with his Physics homework, while Raven and Murphy are playing cards on a separate desk. Well, more like Murphy's trying to solve a solitaire, with Raven standing over his shoulder and telling him he's doing things wrong.

"Shut up Reyes, if I wanted your help, I'd ask for it," he says, and Raven doesn't seem offended, she just shoves his head playfully.

"If it wasn't for me, you'd have lost already."

Murphy just chuckles in response.

"So how do you know Raven?" Clarke asks quietly, wanting to keep this conversation private. She does a good job at pretending her concentration belongs solely to her sketch. She's sketching her favourite scene from The Tempest.

"I don't know her that well," Bellamy says, relaxed. "Murphy and I grew up in the same neighbourhood, and he's gotten close to Raven in the last year, so she hangs out with us a lot," he pauses, "Seems like they care about each other more than friends, though."

Clarke looks up to see Raven ruffle Murphy's hair and press a smacking kiss to his cheek to congratulate him on completing the solitaire, and smiles. "Looks like it is. I'm glad."

"Rooting for them," Bellamy says, his eyes on the book.

"Yeah. Raven deserves better than Finn. I mean, look at her," she huffs out a laugh and returns to sketching.

Bellamy surprises her when he says, "You deserve better than Finn too. Much better," she lifts her head and sees him already looking at her. He winces, obviously feelings a little uncomfortable about the topic, "Raven told me what happened, but we don't have to—"

"No, it's okay," Clarke says, looking at him closely, and at some point she can't help but look at his lips and wonder what it would feel like to kiss him. Her heart picks up its pace when she sees him do the same. She clears her throat, her face hot, and returns to sketching in an attempt to conceal it. "Thanks."

"Any time," he says.


By the time detention's over, Clarke thinks she's made some friends.

They've all talked, played truth or dare – without dares because they're in detention and, obviously, without alcohol, but it's still a lot of fun – and even shared why each one of them ended up in detention in the first place. Bellamy – because he beat up a guy who grabbed his sister's ass; Murphy – for getting involved in the fight as well, when that douchebag's friends attacked Bellamy from behind; Raven – because she pulled the fire alarm to stop the fight. It seemed a little unfair to Clarke that Raven ended up in detention because she tried to stop people from getting hurt, but their school is pretty sexist, so she's not surprised. Everyone laughs when Monty relates the experiment that went wrong and ended up covering the whole table in the lab in green, stinking foam.

It's nice. So nice that she can't help but feel a little sad when they're told they're free to go.

Monty volunteers to drive Raven and Murphy home, but Clarke and Bellamy linger by the steps at the main entrance to the school.

"So, I'll see you Monday?" she asks hopefully, trying not to sound clingy or desperate. Just because she enjoyed spending time with them doesn't mean they enjoyed it just as much.

But Bellamy smiles and nods, confident and relaxed, like it isn't even a question. "Is your mom picking you up?"

Clarke looks around, knowing full well that her mother's car is not going to be in the parking lot. "No, uh— I was going to walk," there's a pause. "She's working," Clarke rolls her eyes slightly and shrugs her shoulders.

"Would you like a ride?" he offers.

She starts to shake her head and say that it's okay, but then remembers that he wanted to sit next to her in the library, he asked her a lot of questions like he wanted to get to know her, and… why not?

So she smiles, "Yes, that would be nice."

His car is clean, it smells of deodorant and that boy-ish smell, and Clarke finds books in the glove compartment, which shouldn't come as a surprise at all. They sing along to the radio and talk crap about teachers and Jaha, but both agree that they don't have a problem with Kane, then exchange numbers, Clarke typing hers into Bellamy's phone and Bellamy's in her own.

When they arrive at her house, she once again feels a little disappointed.

They sit silently for a few moments, but then Bellamy says, "Text me tonight, I want to know how your talk with your mom goes," and Clarke smiles and relaxes. He does want to be her friend. Those few hours they spent together today felt like an eternity and a fleeting moment at the same time. It's like they are friends already. Maybe they just have a lot in common and they're meant to be friends. Doesn't sound realistic, but she'd really like to believe that.

She looks at him once again, and when she sees his gaze drop to her lips, she smiles softly and leans in to give his lips a soft peck. He seems surprised, but pleased, his cheeks pink.

"I'll text you," Clarke promises, their faces still close, and then quickly gets out of the car and runs up the lawn to the porch. She waves at Bellamy before opening the front door and, once inside, presses against it and lets out a huff of laughter.

Detentions really are good for something.