A/N: Ok, so I was working on my other story, and watching the breakfast club at the same time, not a good idea, well okay sort of a good idea because I couldn't help and write my own version of the breakfast club, but bad because I got distracted from my other story. Lol So, I was feeling so inspired by the end of the movie, and just hearing the "Don't you forget about us" song, AH! I just had to write something like it! This is my own version of the breakfast club, 7th heaven style, of course, the characters are not like the ones in the show, so bare with me, I'm sorry if some of you don't like them, but I hope you give them a chance. Without further a due, here it is… :D

It was seven-thirty a.m. and Martin Brewer had a fucking hangover from the party last night, but of course, that didn't mean his dad would stop from going off and telling him how "real men" took responsibility for their actions. Blah Blah. He wanted to get the fuck out of his father's black Audi and get this over with. He regretted leaving his truck at Jack's, but he'd been too drunk to drive last night, and he was sure his dad would have really killed him if he caused and accident or something. On the plus side, he did have a date with this hot college chick he'd met at the UCSB frat party they had crashed. Oh yes, Sidney, what's her name…what he would do…

"Hey" He heard his dad say.

When he snapped out of it, he realized the car had come to a complete stop and was now parked in front of Jefferson High, engine still running.

He rubbed his hands over his knees and groaned. What a fucking waste of a perfectly good Saturday, either way. A couple of the guys had planned on going to hit some balls as the new bating cages that opened up in Maple, but he'd been the one who said he would take the fall because they all knew damn well that coach Carter would never suspend him. Damn Jake and his carelessness. That stupid ass forgot to hide the evidence and now he was here, being punished.

"Martin," his dad said, it was all business as usual.

Martin reluctantly turned to face Beau Brewer, or Colonel Brewer, as he was known at the Army base where he served. The man he called his father.

"Yes, Sir?" he asked, looking at his father even though Mr. Brewer didn't even bother to look his way.

"You are not a little boy any more. This crap you're pulling is getting a little old, don't you think?"

And when he Didn't say anything, his father continued.

"You're a Brewer, remember that." Came his father's proud voice.

Whatever that meant? Did it mean he also got a free pass at being a tool like him? It was no secret that his dad was a hard ass, but no one knew to the extents like he did. Also, since when did his dad have any rights to tell him anything? He was never there.

"Coach Carter gave you a second chance, son. You're lucky you only got Saturday detention. Now what are you going to do?"

"Take care of business, sir. Go in there and serve my time and make sure this never happens again. Sir."

"Exactly." Mr. Brewer looked pleased to hear this.

Martin almost rolled his eyes at the sight of his dad's smirk at the sound of him calling him 'sir'. Martin was sure his dad always got a kick out of it, the control, the power it gave him, like it did when the soldiers did it at the base. Never dad, always 'sir'. Sometimes Martin wondered if his dad could distinguish between the both.

Martin grabbed his letterman jacket and backpack from the back of the car, and opened the door. He was half way out of the passenger's side, when his dad grabbed his arm, holding him firmly in place

"Son?" Mr. Brewer said, this time turning to look at Martin.

"Sir?" His jaw tighten, and even though he wanted to pull his hand away, he didn't

"Don't Screw this up."

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Jane Carter arrived at Jefferson High in her brand new BMW. I had been on her seventeenth birthday when her dad came down and had surprised her with the brand new, custom made M6 Convertible. I mean what to get the girl who has practically everything right? Duh, a car that would almost cause that envious bitch of Marcy Matters to die of jealousy. There was only room for one Queen bee in this town, and she had asserted herself that title back in junior high. Seriously?

She looked at herself one last time in her small pink compact mirror. Bringing one manicured nail to clean the sides of her eye, and applying some of her Juicy Contour lip-gloss, she was ready to get this over with. God, Mr. Williams was being so unfair toward her, even her dad wasn't able to get her off. Whatever, it actually worked to her advantage. She'd heard from Stace that Martin Brewer had gotten detention so he would be here.

He was so hers. I mean it was a given since they where both seniors and this year he was like the most popular boy in school, after Mathew Ryan graduated. Plus he was the star varsity player for the baseball team. This year, he would win them championships, and he would be her boyfriend.

The thought brought butterflies to her stomach, as she cried out in excitement. Thank god she was in her car, or people would have thought she was one of the freaks.

With her new Diane von Furstenberg Metallic carry on Satchel at hand, she got out of her car.

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Ruthie Camden rolled her eyes at her brother in law, Kevin and his partner. Her dad couldn't drive her because he had to go to the Church early in the morning to council some couple, and Lucy had to go along. Her mom had been left to baby-sit the kids, so now Ruthie was sitting on the back of the patrol car, arms crossed, while Kevin and Officer Donavon talked about some boring police stuff.

When they arrived at school, Kevin got out of the car and before she had the chance to open the door herself, he'd made it around the car in record speed and opened it for her.

"You do the crime, you do the time." He laughed heartily at his own remark, like if it was the funniest thing in the world.

"Lame." She retorted, resisting the urge to flip him the bird.

"Its not so bad. Promise" He offered, but Ruthie had the sneaking suspicion that Kevin had never gotten in trouble in his life. He was such a boy scout. So maybe he was not right person to be promising anything.

"Thanks" She said, because he did at least try, and she was grateful.

She had her handbag resting close to her chest, reluctantly taking the first step into her worst nightmare. It was on her second step when she heard the patrol siren go off. She cursed her life, because only this could happen to her. No one else had such embarrassing family members like she did, and she dared anyone to challenge her on it. She reluctantly turned and saw Kevin and Officer Donavon wave at her as they went down the turn toward the exit.

She was sure she looked miserable, how could she not? Ruthie Camden didn't get in trouble. Well, she did, but when she did she usually got away with it. This time, thought, she wasn't guilty. They had gotten the wrong person.

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Theodore "T-bone" Bonelli, had finally arrived at school after the four block walk. He was tired, especially since he had his history and physics book weighed heavily inside his backpack. Hey, might as well do a little homework while he spent a perfectly good Saturday with Jefferson High's finest criminals, rejects, and the seriously inept. He should be at home right now, working on his prompts, and filling out those college applications that needed to be mailed out next week. His father only reminded him every day, how could he forget? The prestigious three. Harvard, Yale, and Princeton. His mom and dad were going to kill him if they knew where he was.

Thanks to Ernie Stevens, who'd covered for him and let him spend the night over his place, his parents didn't suspect that he had gotten detention, or most importantly why. The thought alone make him hyperventilate. They would be so disappointed. Donnie never got detention. No, his brother was perfect. The perfect son who was finishing his senior year at Princeton and who would start graduate school at Harvard next fall.

His parents could never find out.

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"Please Mac, when will you stop embarrass your poor mother. Don't you think she feels ashamed that she is president of the PTA and she has to deal with your antics." came Macintosh Senior's hoarse voice on speaker from the back of the town car. His father, the reputable man whose citizens of Glenoak held in such high esteem, scolded his youngest son, the one who'd shamed the family again.

"Yeah dad, sorry. How about this? to make it up, next week I'm joining the boy scouts. Heh? Get my badges and make you proud? How about it dad, you up for camping?" Mac could hear the exasperated sigh on the other end.

"Don't be a smart ass." His father replied angrily, "Let this be the last time you ever pull a stunt like this." Mac didn't even get a chance to respond when the phone line went dead.

Good old dad.

Mac wondered if his dad ever read of the prodigal son? He guessed not.

Mac opened up his door and told his dad's driver, Charles, who'd actually brought him to make sure he came to detention, to tell his dad thanks for believing in him. He hoped the driver got the joke, but by the zombie look of his face, Mac didn't think Charlie had much of a sense of humor.

Mac Wilson stood outside the steps of Jefferson High. The last place he wanted to be. Funny how once upon a time he ruled this place. That was of course, until everything went to shit. It was the summer of this year when it happened. He's not sure what changed, just one day he woke up and he didn't want it. He didn't miss it though; he hated everything about that life. The popularity he was given and the fake friends he acquired because his father was a big time judge, and he came from the wealthiest families in Glenaok. Nothing was real in that life. So when he walked away that summer, when he walked away from baseball, from winning them their stupid championship, that's when everything fell apart.

This was better. He didn't have to care about appearances, or the hot popular chick he was suppose to be banging that week. Well, ok, that part he kind of missed, but girls didn't seem to be interested in him when he didn't have the status he once provided.

Who would have thought that the one time he decided to give a shit about anything, it would land him straight in detention. Those who knew him looked at him with disdain and anger, the other half, who he'd once treated like shit, saw him as some sort of hero. He laughed. This was getting interesting.

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Meredith Davies was working on Saturdays, helping Mr. Williams supervise detention. During the week, though, she worked as a piano instructor at the local community center, and during the evenings at the Veggie Deli. She didn't complain, though. Nope, she liked her life. During her free time she was either busy doing homework, or helping her hippie activist parents, raise her siblings. Her mom, Carol, a free spirit straight from the myths of 70 shows, owned a naturally remedy shop in town. Her father, Dave, was an artist, living the bohemian life as a painter whose studio was their garage. Many people would consider them weird, but to Meredith it was home.

Late nights of music, the likes of Bob Dylan, Jimmy Hendrix, and John Lennon on vinyl, organic clothes, and laughter at the Davies home. Something she would not give up for anything in the world.

Even if people did judged her.

Of course this didn't pay the bills, so Meredith was stuck babysitting Jefferson's high bratty babies. She was seventeen, but she prided herself in her maturity level. Her mother, who dabbled in the world of spirits, and was a psychic herself, once told her that her spirit was that of an eighty-year-old wise shaman woman from long ago.

She just didn't get it? They had everything in the world handed to them, and they still needed to act out to get attention. Not even Cody, her five-year-old brother, was that immature. But hey, without them, she would be out of a job. So with that in mind, she headed up the stairs and into the Library, where Mr. Williams would be waiting.

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