AN: I have finally finished this story!
I need to give my beta, vaguekiwi, a big thank you for all her hard work and assistance.
As Allison sinks into the scalding bath, she contemplates the dreaded Monday that has finally arrived. Her body is soothed by the hot water, but her brain can't stop tumbling over and over the same things. Brian is the only one Allison feels she can depend on. He will not abandon the new friends he made in detention. Bender is an asshole, so whatever, he can do what he likes. Andy? Who knows? As for Claire, she expects nothing. Claire's kind are fake and say things they don't mean all the time. Allison thinks Claire will ignore them all.
The game she played, lying about being a nymphomaniac to get a rise out of Claire, was fun. Bender was the only one who really enjoyed it the same way she did. He gave her a covert, amused look that told her for the moment at least it was the two of them against the normals.
Somehow during that long afternoon she shed her usual armor, talked of her heart, talked of what she cared about. She never talks, except to lie to Hashimoto. She never tells the truth, the truth of loneliness and unhappiness, of tears shed at midnight with no witnesses.
But Bender… At the very beginning of detention he gave her a look and said, "I've seen you before, you know."
A complete asshole thing to do. He knew she couldn't say anything about where they knew each other from, and he held it over her head. He knew she didn't want anyone to know about her trip to the juvenile facility. That's where he had seen her. He had been there before her and he left after her, so he must have been there at least 4 days. After experiencing the facility, she knows four days is a very long time to be locked up. He was there on possession charges and she was there for shoplifting. They only kept her one full day, but it was enough to scare her out of trying any light fingered tricks again.
She hadn't really wanted that wristwatch. She was taking it to take it. A security guard in plain clothes following her around was not something she anticipated. He chased her half way down the block and finally caught her by the arm and dragged her back to the security room. She sat there, stony faced, while he dialed the police and her parents.
Allison ended up with 6 months of probation. She had to go downtown to the correctional facilities administrative building every week to report to her probation officer. Her parents never came with her or gave her a ride. They didn't seem to care very much that she got busted, or that she received a light punishment, or really anything about the incident. She might as well have been invisible. The only acknowledgment she got was when they had to pick her up from juvie. Then she was only told that it was an inconvenience that they had to pick her up as they were dining with the Browns that night.
She hadn't really expected much of a response. They had ignored the call Hashimoto made after sending her home with notes three times. Of course she didn't deliver the notes, but opened them and read them for herself. It was hard to see herself described clinically, as if she were not a real person Hashimoto had talked to many times, but an abstract specimen. The first note sort of took the air out of her, made it hard to breathe, but the next two were identical, so they were not so shocking. It gave her a place in the world. Uninteresting to her parents and a clinical specimen to Hashimoto. She had started softening a bit with Hashimoto before those notes and had actually considered saying something about being ignored by her parents, feeling alone in the world, being miserable, instead of the rambling, transparent lies she usually fed him.
And then that asshole John Bender taunted her with her stay in juvie. She settled back into her basket case mode, making herself invisible. From this place of safety, she watched the others. The jock, the princess, the geek and that damn Bender. They forgot about her. People always forget about her.
It is Bender who finds her first, Monday morning.
"Hey Wingnut, you seen anyone else?" Bender says to Allison. Then he turns and waves to someone. "She's over here!"
Brian the brain appears in the crowded hallway, carrying a bulging backpack, like a snail carrying its shell. When he joins them he says, "Hi Allison. Bender, I haven't seen her. I walked past the junior lockers, and the girl's toilet and the courtyard-"
Bender interrupts, "Here she comes now." They all look down the hallway to the front doors where Claire Standish is entering, flanked by Mandy and Heidi, two of the most popular girls in the school. The three Breakfast Club members stand in a row, watching. Claire reaches Allison first. Allison puts on her deepest scowl, expecting the worst. Claire makes eye contact but quickly breaks the connection, turning to Heidi to say something. Claire walks past the other two with her head turned to catch Heidi's answer.
"Yo Queenie, aren't you going to say hi?" Bender throws this at her averted profile. She keeps walking and Bender breaks from the line of Breakfast Club members and says in a carrying voice, "You are a bitch." Heidi turns, looking puzzled and Allison can see her asking Claire a question. Claire shakes her head and speeds up.
Bender turns back to the other two. "The Princess isn't holding court apparently."
Brian coughs nervously. Allison looks back to the front doors and sees Andrew Clark. She nudges Bender. Bender turns to look as well. Andy spots them and makes a beeline for the group.
Allison can't seem to reduce her deep frown. She wants to smile, to open her mouth, to say something, but she is frozen. She must not look encouraging because Andy slows down, hesitation in his step. But then their eyes meet and all she sees is his face. A tiny smile quirks the corner of his mouth. Allison manages to open her mouth, but nothing comes out. Andy stops just before her, close enough for her to hear his whisper, "I won't go away." Their eyes meet and she wants to look away, to hide as she always hides, but he has captured her.
Bender clears his throat loudly. When Allison unglues her eyes from Andy's, Bender says, "Finally. You two love birds done making googly eyes at each other? We got serious business to attend to. Where are we eating lunch?"
Andy has now put his arm around Allison's shoulders and she leans into his warmth while he debates with Bender. Her head is whirling too much to follow the conversation very well.
"Okay, okay, Sport, you made your point. Let's meet in the caf then," is Bender's final word. The bell rings and they all part, going their separate ways.
During history class Allison notices her pencil has been tracing a familiar likeness, soft eyes looking up at her. How could this be happening? Saturday she was a lone outpost, no relief in sight. Now she is included, desired, sought after. No one made fun of her or called her names. Well, Bender called her names, but he calls everyone names. And she won't be eating lunch alone. But for how long? What if the jocks and richies pressure Andy? He can't think for himself. They might convince him to ditch her as a weirdo. That's all anyone ever thinks of her, weirdo. Look at Claire. She is afraid of her friends. She wants to fit in and be popular. And really, who wouldn't want to be popular? Andy is like Claire, folding to pressure. Look what he did to Lester because he thought he was following in his father's footsteps. Yeah, he can't think for himself and he's sure to do what his friends want him to do. Idiot. He's an idiot for bending to pressure. She's an idiot for expecting anything different.
Allison is glowering when she enters the cafeteria. Brian waves at her from across the room and she makes her way through the crowds of students. When she arrives, Bender has straddled a chair turned backwards and is picking at his glove, apparently unconcerned about who might see him hanging out with the geek and the basket case. When he looks up, pushing his hair back out of his face, his smile is peeking out, despite his attempt to look bored and cool.
"Psycho, you made it. Sporto said he'd be right back."
Allison sees Andy's letterman jacket hanging over the back of a chair and his backpack in the chair itself. She takes a step back, not quite believing what she is seeing. She had talked herself into the idea that Andy would ditch them all, and now here he is.
"You gonna sit, Psycho, or just stand there looking all day?" Bender's insulting names, Psycho and Wingnut and Basket Case, feel friendly and affectionate, not hateful and teasing. Not how he'd pronounced "Queenie" when Claire walked by.
Barely noticing what she's doing, she sinks into the chair next to Andy's, plunking her enormous bag down in front of her. Now she sees Andy in the cafeteria line.
By the time Andy reaches the table, Allison is nonchalantly crushing Capn' Crunch cereal into a slice of white bread. He settles himself next to her and turns to look at her with… well, she has never seen this look directed at herself, but it must be infatuation. She flashes her dark eyes his way, meets his for a long moment, then she turns back to her cereal crushing operation. She can't control the smile that is creeping onto her face. Andy seems content with this. He scoots his chair up to the table as if getting ready for serious work and opens the first of three cartons of milk.
When Allison takes a bite, she looks over her huge sandwich and sees that Bender's contempt and scorn are real now. She doesn't need to turn in her chair to know he's looking at Claire. He rises and plucks out the cigarette he had been keeping behind one ear.
"Later guys, gotta catch a smoke."
Brian has been watching all of this with great interest. He continues watching Bender as Allison goes back to her sandwich and Andy picks up his milk again. But before Andy can take a sip or Allison take a bite, Brian says, "Look."
Andy and Allison turn to see Bender leaning over the popular princess table. Claire's mouth is open in shock. Bender tosses his hair back and slouches off, looking utterly unperturbed. He tosses a remark over his shoulder that makes Claire cover her face. She seems to be crying.
"Serves her right," Andy says.
"She's still crying," Brian reports. "Now she's leaving the table."
Turning things over in her mind, Allison remarks, "She must feel like shit." She, Allison, knows she'd feel like a piece of crap if someone like Bender despised her for being weak and self-centered.
"Good, she should feel like shit." Andy bristles with anger.
"Did you really expect anything else, Andy?" Allison asks. "She cried and acted like she was sorry, but she never said she would change."
After her last class, Allison approaches her locker and finds Andy there.
"Hey, Allison." Allison meeps and feels panic. Andrew Clark can't really be seeking her out. What if she does something wrong? What if she is too socially stupid, what if she is too weird, what if he goes away?
"I can't hang out today."
A large weight shifts in Allison's chest and she droops. Maybe he doesn't want to be seen with her. Maybe he is tired of her. Maybe she is just too strange. Unacceptable.
"I can come early to meet you tomorrow," Andy says. His voice comes to her distorted and warped by her fear. When he pulls her close, she is struck dumb with surprise. Here in Shermer High, Andy is hugging her. Where anyone could see. He pulls her closer. She shakes her hair out of her eyes so she can look at him properly. Just like in detention, just like this morning, she finds she cannot look away. They fall into a long, breathless kiss, totally forgetting where they are, until they both are jarred by someone whacking Andy on the shoulder.
"You can do that later, loverboy. Time for practice."
It's Coach Cunningham.
Allison watches Andy's back retreating until he is obscured by the students milling in the hallway. She slowly sorts her books and packs her bag with what she'll need tonight. Algebra, World History and Civics. When she closes her combination lock and turns to leave, the crowded hallway has cleared and she finds herself looking at Brian Johnson. He's leaning against the opposite wall, looking pleased.
"Hey, Allison. I know you live in Liberty Heights, and my house is on the way there. Do you… do you want to walk together?" Now he looks stricken as if he's said something awful. "I mean, as friends. Not like…"
Just then Claire appears at the end of the corridor. She isn't paying attention and doesn't notice Allison and Brian until they are facing each other. For once she's alone, not part of a flock of popular girls. Her mouth opens but nothing comes out. Brian and Allison look at her expectantly. When she fails to say anything, Allison says, "Claire, I feel sorry for you, because we are real people who have real feelings for our friends, not fake people who only care about themselves."
Claire closes her mouth and puts on a haughty expression. Before she can say anything, Allison murmurs to Brian, "C'mon, let's go." They turn their backs on Claire and head for the front exit.
Allison bangs the front door to their house shut. Really it's not hers, just her parents. She's like a house guest who has over stayed her welcome. When they moved from their last house, she hadn't unpacked the boxes containing her belongings. They would be moving again in a year or so, after her parents fixed up the house and resold it. This house, like all the others she had lived in, was under renovation. Sometimes the bathroom shower was sealed off with sheets of plastic, sometimes plaster dust crunched underfoot, once the entire house was stripped down to its under flooring, except for the bedrooms. The ceiling fixture in her room is two dangling wires. She uses the study lamp clamped onto the desk for light. So she drops her purse onto a box labeled "Misc." in her mother's handwriting and puts her books on the cluttered desk. She might as well get started on her homework. She extracts her civics textbook from the pile and opens it to page 164.
Her parents aren't home by dinner time, so Allison must fend for herself. She prepares a bowl of cereal and grabs a banana. As she is bringing her meal to her room, the phone rings. She never answers it because it is never for her, just real estate agents and contractors and her parents socially correct friends. She lets the answering machine pick up. She is almost to her bedroom door when she hears Andy's voice. She slops cereal and milk onto the floor in her haste to grab the phone.
"Hello." The shout bursts out of her, sounding like Andy was an unwanted salesman. She gets a hold of herself, tries to get control of her voice and peeps, "Hi." It's all she can squeak out.
"Hey Allison. I can't talk long," Andy hurries to say. "If my dad catches me, I'm dead. Tomorrow? Meet me at 7:30 in front of the school, OK?"
Allison manages an affirmative sound.
"I've been thinking of you all day," Andy says in a low voice.
"I…" Allison doesn't know what to say. "Me too," she blurts out.
"Gotta go Al, here comes dad. See you tomorrow." Click.