Why hello there! This is my attempt at a first chapter for a Breakfast Club fanfic (duh). I fell in love with this movie the second I saw it, and found myself shipping Andrew and Allison a bit too hard...So I wrote a fanfiction! I'm relatively new to this, so if you have any recommendations for improvement, let me know! Oh, and this is Allison's POV.
I wake up, stretching my arms high above my head. A yawn leaves my mouth in a soft shreak. Taking a glance at my clock, I see I have five minutes left to rest, but instead I reset the alarm and get up early. I drag my feet to the bathroom where I brush my teeth with my finger and some toothpaste. You'd think parents would at least care about their kids dental hygiene I sigh to myself. As if my parents care about me at all.
After brushing my teeth, I open my closet. As I do everyday, I consider going to school in what I slept in. A bra and loose sweatpants. But instead I remember Saturday. The makeover. I decide against black, and turn the colored section on my wardrobe, gained when I raided my mother's closet. I take out a white blouse and a baby blue skirt. Biting my lip, I wonder if I should bother with my usual makeup, or try for the makeup Claire did. I quickly change and decide to go in between. I use a thin line of black eyeliner, but thicker than what I had on Saturday. I sneer at the lipgloss and decide against it. Finally, I recover the headband I was given, and push my bangs back so that my face is visible. So that it would be visible to Andrew. Andrew. I smile at the thought of him. I try to remind myself that he'll probably ignore me at school, but my heart refuses to listen. My mind wanders to the moment when we kissed, when Sporto and Basketcase collided to create two happy human beings instead of two completely different creatures. I sigh thinking about it, and allow myself to daydream on the way to school.
When I reach the dreaded building of education and judgement, I'm met with a surprise. Andrew is talking to Brian right in front of the school, and he's letting his friends stare. My back straightens as I walk up to the boys. "Andy, Brian," I say casually.
Both boys are smiling when they see me, but I notice both of their smiles are different. Brian's is more relieved, like he for whatever reason didn't expect me to talk to him today. I thought I was the only one who would talk to him. Though I suppose with Brian, you can never get too hopeful. Andrew on the other hand, smiles nervously.
"Hey," they both said back.
"Well, uh, thanks Brian for the help. I'll talk to you guys later, alright?" Andrew says. He seems suddenly urged to leave and I can't help but feel it was my fault. Brian nodded with a fake smile this time, the kind you make by pulling your lips into your mouth and makes everyone realize you're uncomfortable. Andrew struts quickly to his jock friends.
"The hell was that about?" I ask quietly. I had expected him to stay and talk at least. Just until first period. What was up with him?
Brian simply shrugs, though I can see the hurt in his eyes, "He just asked for some help in science class. No biggy…"
Lunch. A time to sit alone and do absolutely nothing. I snicker to myself, remembering the monstrosity that I had brought in on Saturday. Yes, I was weird, but I didn't go around making sandwiches as insane as me. I had just brought that to weird out the kids who were bound to be at the detention. Today, I brought my usual lunch. Nothing, except a shot of vodka in a large, opaque black bottle.
I look around to see everyone else around the lunchroom as I drink what still feels like liquid fire, despite my long experience with it. I see Claire, bustling about with her popular friends, though I notice she often looks at the table Bender usually sits at. He's there, glancing right back at her, with a smirk on his face. Next I find Brian, vigorously doing work with the rest of the nerds. And finally, despite my struggle to ignore him, I see Andy. He and his stupid jock friends are, as usual, the loudest group. If you don't know the Sports by their names, you know them by their intense volume. Though I can't ignore the fact that Andy seemed a bit down. His yelling somehow doesn't seem genuine. And he doesn't have the shine in his eyes that's usually present when he's having fun. Here I am acting as though I've known him all my life, I say in my head. As if I know what he does when he's having fun. But as he yells I noticed that he saw me. I slam my face on the table, loud enough to get a few glances.
After a few minutes, I have the courage to peer up again. Andrew isn't looking at me anymore, at least not for a prolonged period of time. I can see his eyes make their way towards me before they'd dart right back to his real friends. I decide to remove my sketchbook from my very full bag. It's large and takes up most of bag's space, but there's still enough room for my pens, which I take out as well. I begin sketching nothing in particular. I let my hand do most of the work for me, only really thinking about it when I must. I create a face. A perfectly sculpted nose, a cutting jaw line, a smirk. All of these features belong to Andy, and I yell at myself, though not out loud like usual. Are you kidding me Allison. You draw the assface who made you feel more invisible. But I keep going. The eyes are empty. Of course, as usual I'm drawing in black and white, but I can't get myself to color the iris. It remains a white circle with a black dot stuck in the middle of it. Even the whites of the eyes have more ink than the iris due to shading.
I find my hand moving towards my bag. It feels around until it finds what it desires, a blue pen. I've never used the pen. I found it on the sidewalk one day. It was all brand new, it was even in plastic packaging which protected it. I use the pen for Andrew's irises, and the ink is what makes them come to life. The pen is just transparent enough that I'm able to shade in all of the different colors in his deep eyes, but still get a bold pigment. I've always wanted a pen like this. One where I can get every shade of a single color with just a few twitches of my finger. I can't help but that a deep breath at the perfection which is this ink. I place in carefully back into my bag, and look at my work. It's taken me fifty minutes, so I still have ten left in the lunch hour to do nothing.
I decide to spend my nothing time by looking at my drawing. I captured all of his facial features right. His nose points just the right way, his jawline is shaped accurately, and his smile is genuine. I sink into my seat and crack my neck loudly, smiling at my work. And eventually, without realizing, I smile at what my work was based on.
And there you have it! I quite liked this, but tell me what you think! I'd love to get suggestions other comments. So long for now! ~TRexArmsRoar