When Love & Hate Collide

*Author's Note*

So, I watched this movie after so many years (like a good decade gasp) of not seeing it and I forgot how much I loved it and Bender (haha…). Then I opened up my word doc file to write for my other stories, but was struck with an idea for a Breakfast Club story and viola this was born.

Anyways, hope you guys like this. This is a Bender/OC story with (of course) the side pairing of Bender/Claire (which is more of an on and off thing). Bender/OC is endgame but of course if you read my stuff you know I like drama and Bender/Clair is gonna be that drama.

The OC Gertrude 'Gertie' Hatfield's face claim is Rose Leslie. (She is a descendent of my OC Nova Landon and Cap Hatfield from my story Surviving With The Devil's Son but you don't have to read that for this story since there's no cross over or anything. Just saying…)


The New Girl

Gertie POV:

Being the new kid was hard, but top that off with being transferred right smack dap in the middle of the school year right before spring break made hard turn into impossible. Eh, I would get expelled from my school in Mate Creek, West Virginia and get shipped to the middle of nowhere Midwest town of Shermer, Illinois by my parents to live with my widower grandpa (who only lives in Shermer cause it's where granny was from and she wanted to go back to her childhood hometown to enjoy her last years and all that). Dad's given up on me and mom's quote un quote 'Heartbroken at how bad and rebellious I turned out.'. Eh, at least Grandpa hasn't given up on me. I mean if he didn't intervene and offer to take me in when my dad was flipping out on the phone with him, I'd be off in military school right now being Cadet Hatfield.

"Don't worry, kid, your first day'll be fine." Grandpa assured me as he tossed his cigarette butt out the cracked window. God, just the smell of smoke made my mouth water, but I couldn't smoke around him cause he'd blow a gasket. Yea, he was a firm believer that girls shouldn't smoke and I didn't want a lecture from him.

"I'm not worried, grandpa, but thanks." I told him, tearing my eyes off of the buildings lining the road in order to give grandpa a quick looked and a small line of a forced smile.

"Now, remember be nice and try to make some new friends. This is supposed to be a fresh start for you."

"I know, but I'm always nice."

"Sure, ya are, Gertie…" He sarcastically smirked at me while shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "Stupid lil shit, watch where you're walkin'!" Grandpa yelled at some dude, who looked like a hobo huddled in a worn-out grey trench coat with a red scarf framed around his neck, as he just walked out right in front of our old Chevy truck as we pulled up to the school. And he tells me to be nice… As soon as the tires stopped my grandpa looked at me and said, "Stay under the radar or your next stop's military school."

"Okay." I simply said while opening up my door.

As I got out of the car I hear my grandpa's deep smoker's voice give me the lecture of, "I mean it, Gertie. If you get into trouble here your dad'll definitely send you off and trust me you don't want that."

"I know, grandpa." I told him right before shutting the passenger's door.

As I took my first steps onto the sidewalk of the large hellhole known as Shermer High I heard my grandpa's truck off. I let out a heavy sigh and tightened my grip on my bag as I made my way up the stairs that led to the doors of the school. Well, hopefully I can stay out of trouble and get thru the rest of the school year.


Homeroom is a stupid thing really, just sitting in class for a good 5 minutes while announcements are played over the intercom. My homeroom was the Spanish class and of course the teacher, Mrs. Ramirez, had an accent and dropped the d at the end of my name (Hatfield). Oh, at least I don't have to take her class since I did my required language back in my old school. I was zoning out as some chipper sounding girl (most likely a prep) made the announcements over the intercom.

"Don't forget that prom is only 2 months away. Ask that special someone now and buy your tickets before they get sold out." Who is this announcement chick kidding? The prom tickets won't be all sold out. As long as somebody has the money to spend they'll get a ticket, it's only for the Juniors and Seniors, not like the entire damn school's attending the dance.

I half listened to the rest of the announcements, not giving a shit about it since it wasn't like I was going to be in Shermer High that long. I was a senior after all…

Once the bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom, I rushed out of the room with the other students to join the crowd in the hall. People were scurrying about to their classes as I scanned the schedule I was holding in my hand. Aha, my first class was history on the second floor in room 206. Quickly, I found my way to the staircase and up to the second floor.

I was the last student to enter the history class. I looked around the room, searching for an empty seat, as I slowly walked further into the room. My eyes landed on an open desk near the middle of the rows of desks. A small and (for a lack of a better word) dorky blonde guy was sitting next to the empty desk as I walked over to it. Hearing me approach the empty desk, the boy turned his head and looked at me. As I placed my bag onto my desk, he gave me a slightly wide-eyed look while squeaking out, "Uh, you look cool for a new kid."

Knowing he was referring to my leather jacket (a gift from my ex and when I say gift, I just mean I never gave it back after we split) I just took my seat while simply telling him, "Thanks."

"I'm Brian, Brian Johnson." The blonde boy, who was a bit scrawny, gave me a friendly smile before going on to tell me, "You're going to love this history class."

"That's good. Oh, I'm Gertie by the way." I politely told the boy back while purposely omitting my last name since I didn't want the honor student to figure out that I was descended from a bunch of blood thirsty back hills West Virginian hillbillies.

Before Brian could say a word some jock (I knew he was a jock by his blue letterman jacket he had on) and a preppy girl wearing a pink dress that most likely cost more than my brother's truck payment back home walked up to me from their desks near the front.

As soon as they reached me the preppy redhead introduced herself with, "Oh, I'm Claire." A smile, a forced and fake one, crossed over her lightly made up face as she told me, "I'm on the prom committee along with some other social clubs; since you're new you could join them to make some friends."

Dear god, this girl's attitude was as fake as her pearly white smile. I bet as soon as she sees me in the hall with her friends, she'll talk shit about me. It's what the it girls, the popular girls, do. She's probably just trying to play nice so I'll feel like somebody wants to be my friend and blab about myself so she can have a new juicy gossip topic for her friends. Yep, sorry Miss Preppy Pretty In Pink, that ain't gonna happen. Eh, on the other hand she could be trying to gain a new recruit for her group of mean girl bitches. I mean I do have that way of attracting everyone to try and befriend me, but I learned the hard way my freshman year that the popular kids are not to be trusted. They turned on each other; eat their own per say.

"I'm Andy." The jock told me before going on to say, "This class is-"

"Everyone, to your seats now." A man in a suit that looked very Saturday Night Fever like barked as soon as he walked into the room. Everyone who wasn't seated hurried up and sat down at a desk. "Well, since your teacher's out sick today and a substitute couldn't be reached guess who's going to be filling in as teacher for this class? That's right, this man here. Me, Vice Principal Vernon." Oh no, I was already getting the vibe that this guy was a douchebag... He looked at me while glancing at a paper in his hand. "Ah, there's a new transfer student here. Gertrude Hatfield."

"It's Gertie." I told him since I hated my first name. It was such an 1800s name…

Vernon scowled at me. "What? You getting sassy with me young lady?"

"No, Mr. Vernon, I'm just telling you that I go by Gertie not Gertrude." I honestly told him.

"I read your file and I know why you had to transfer here so if I were you, I'd be walking a in a straight line on the tight rope of no more chances." The vice principal barked at me, his voice venomus and threatening, as his eyes cut right into me as I simply sat in my desk. Everyone's eyes were darting between me and the vice principal, waiting on baited breath for what would transpire between us. I just nodded at the douchebag, hoping that he'd get off my case. "The lesson plan says you're suppose to learn about the Revolutionary War, but nobody really gives a crap about that in the real world. Read that part of the book and write an essay on it."

"But-" Brian began to softly protest only to get snapped at by Vernon and his harsh remark of, "No buts, I'm sure you of all the students here are capable of reading a lesson and writing an essay on it."

I raised my hand, earning me a dissmisive eyeroll from Vernon. Ignoring his disinterest, I announced, "Uh, I need a book."

"Miss Hatfield, one more outburst and you'll be spending your Saturday with me."

"I'm not having an outburst; I'm telling you that I need a book since I'm new."

Quickly coming to my aid, Brian blurted out, "She can share mine."

"No, this isn't a group assignment. No sharing books." Vernon snapped before going over the teacher's desk and taking a seat at it.

Great, looks like I'm going to be failing my first assignment unless I get off my ass and go to the back bookshelf to snag a book. Yea, getting yelled at for getting up is better then failing.

"Miss Hatfield, this is a classroom not a runway." Mr. Vernon told me, his voice hard and nasty, as he sat behind Mrs. Vetter's desk acting like he owned the damn thing.

"Well, since I needed a book, I reckon I had to turn into Christie Brinkley to get it." I sarcastically told Vernon, waving the large book in my hand up in the air for him to see as I walked the short path back to my desk.

Vernon quickly got up from the desk and marched over to me. Giving me a nasty snarl he spat haughtily, "Oh, you've got a smart mouth on you. Think you're being cool; that you're some hot shit. The real bitchin' new kid." With a dark smirk he told me, "Oh, I know all about you and I won't take any of your shit. Congratulations, you got yourself Saturday detention little missy."

What? Is this douche-nugget serious? I got detention for getting up to get a book and then making a sarcastic comment on why I did it? Oh god and I thought my old school was strict, hell it was a fucking walk in the park compared to this. Damnit, I would do something stupid to get my ass shipped to Hell err Shermer.

Grampa's gonna be so pissed bout my detention.


The rest of my morning was mundane as hell. I was actually beyond thankful whenever lunch rolled around. As was the usual with all cafeteria food the shit looked horrible and was overpriced. Hell, the hockey puck of a burger tasted horrible and the fries were limpy, greasy, and gross. Yea, eww. After picking at my lunch and eating enough to not starve for the rest of the day I trashed my food and left the cafeteria. I needed a smoke, badly. I had no idea where the smoking area was in this hell hole (at my old school in Mate Creek it was behind a brick wall across from the field) so I went with my gut and took off towards the fields.

Smoke wafted from underneath the bleachers and I knew I'd found the student smoking area. I made my way underneath the bleachers where a few boys that looked like stoners and metal heads were clustered at in a small group. As I went over to a beam away from the group of guys, I noticed that Mr. Hobo (who grandpa nearly ran over) was in the center of the burner dudes as if he was their blessed messiah or something. He looked like somebody that'd fuck you up if you looked at him the wrong way. You know, somebody that was the epitome of bad boy. At least he he wasn't in that hobo coat anymore, but had on a jean jacket. Eh, the ratty trench must be stuffed in his locker.

I didn't pay him or his group any mind as I took my pack of smokes out of my bag. I shoved a cig into my mouth, took my lighter out of my pack, and lit up before tossing my pack of Reds back into my bag. As I took my first drag, I felt a set of eyes on me. I turned my head slightly, letting smoke flow out of my mouth, only to see the bad ass hobo dude looking at me with a mix between intrigue and scrutiny in his brown eyes. I just arched a brow at him in a silent 'what?' gesture before taking another drag of my smoke. He just shrugged, his long dark brown hair brushing against the slightly popped collar of his jean jacket, and went back to smoking and bullshitting with his friends.

I was just staring idly at the field, from the slats of the bleachers I was standing under, and was nearly done with my smoke whenever a voice, slightly deep, asked me, "Ya get that at their concert?"

I arched a brow and looked over to see who was asking only to see Mr. Baddie Hobo giving me a tilted look, his eyes fixed on my Def Leppard shirt. Looking between my shirt and him I simply said, "Yea, saw them in Charleston with my ex."

"Cool." He nodded in approval, his burnout friends all noddin' too. "I'm Bender." He introduced himself, flicking some ashes onto the ground. Before taking another drag of his smoke he pointed to himself and his group of burnout friends. "You got good taste in music; can come over and smoke if you want." His friends all nodded their heads, looking a bit afraid to counter what their messiah of the bad ass stoners had said.

I wasn't sure why he wanted me to hang out with them, but I'm betting my ass it's cause of A. my leather jacket, B. my Def Leppard concert tee, and C. I'm smoking. Basically, I had that rebel girl thing going on and it must intrigue him. Eh, he better not try anything funny (like suggesting we hook up or something since he gave off that wham bam thank you mam type vibe) cause I don't feel like kneein' anybody in the balls today.

"Gertie.", I simply said, tossing my cigarette butt to the side as I made my way over to him and his friends right as the bell rang.

"Got shop, man." One guy, who looked like he could be the drummer from Motley Crue, told Bender before taking off.

"Got a study hall to sleep in." Another friend, who had greasy dirty blonde hair and a black Pink Floyd sweatshirt on, told Bender before tossing his smoke away and taking off.

Bender just looked at me and simply asked with a slight snarky undertone, "You taking off too, Cupcake?"

"Cupcake?..." Good lord he's one of those guys that gives out sweet sounding nicknames to be an annoying jackass. Rolling my eyes, I told him curtly, "Next class is gym; I don't feel like wearing short gym shorts and having jocks oogle my ass cause I'm the new girl."

"Fair 'nough." Bender tossed his cigarette butt on the ground.

"So, what kinda name's Bender?" I asked him as he leaned against the metal beam, pulling his pack of Reds out of his back pocket for a round of chain smokin'. God, either his parents were drunk off their ass when they named him or he got a nickname for being a binge drinker. Either way option's not that great…

"The surname of drunken kings of old." He said a bit dramatically with sarcasm oozing from his voice as he took a smoke from his pack.

"Ah, I get it. You're so badass that nobody uses the first name." I replied in a tone full of fake surprise and astonishment as he held his pack out to me lazily, offering me one. "Ah, how nice you're sharing." I said, maybe a bit too sarcastically, as I quickly took a cigarette from his pack.

He just shrugged, blowing off my comment and his gesture, and stuffed his pack into his pocket before lighting up his smoke and tossing me his lighter. As I lit up, he took his first drag. "You're new." Bender stated, not asked, as I tossed him back the lighter.

Nodding, I took my first drag. "Yep." I popped my tongue after exhaling my first lungful of smoke from my second cigarette.

"In the middle of the year. Oh, Cupcake, you've must've done something bad."

"Not bad, just stupid."

"Stupid how?" Bender asked, his brow rising curiously at me as he faked interest and concern. Yea, bet he just wanted to know what I did so he could rag me 'bout it. He seemed like the kinda guy that'd get under your skin and torment you to no end. God, he would be the only one showing me any social attention today. Prolly cause I smoke and he smokes, but still nobody but bad boy Bender was showing me the time of day.

"What're ya, the guidance counselor grillin' me?" I shot back sarcastically instead of giving him a straight forward answer while slightly flicking some ashes sailing to the ground.

"No, if I was Mr. Austin, I'd be telling you," Bender said before imitating the counselor's overly cheerful tone and making random head gestures while giving a fake speech of, "Now Gertie what you did in your old school was thoughtless and horrible. To succeed here at Shermer and in life you must apply yourself and surround yourself by positive peers." He rolled his dark brown eyes while going back to his normal tone and saying, "Blah blah blah fuckity fuck fuck fuck.", while making little puppet like motions with his hands.

"God, you sound just like that overly happy asshole. I got stuck talking to him the other day when I signed up for this hell hole and I wanted to smash my head against a filing cabinet or something to block out his bullshit lecture." I laughed, shaking my head at him before taking a drag off my smoke.

"I like your attitude, Cupcake." I didn't know if he was teasing me or not, but I don't think I gave a shit either way.

"Of course, you do, but nobody else does." Was my honest reply, which could be taken as either sincere or sarcastic by how I slightly shrugged while saying it.

"Aww, too bad. I guess people ain't living by sticks and stones may break my bones, but words'll never hurt me."

"Guess not." I shrugged, taking a large drag.

We fell into silence as we smoked underneath the bleachers. Once the bell rang, marking the end of the period, we tossed our butts on the ground and emerged out from underneath the bleachers. Without a word we parted ways. He headed towards the large building (that resembled a garage) that the shop class was held in while I headed towards the main building.


My last class of the day was art. I didn't mind it; in fact, I was actually pretty good at drawing and stuff. Whenever I walked into class, I noticed that blank canvases on small easels, paints, and brushes were set up at all of the tables. I saw that up front sat Andy Clark with one of his jock buddies, who was very large and had to be at least 250 pounds. He didn't say a word to me cause the large fat jock gave me a sneering look. Whatever. I just walked on by, looking for an empty table to sit at. I saw at the table all the way in the back was a girl in all black with her dark hair covering her face painting her canvas even tho the final class bell hadn't gone off yet. I doubt she even knew what the assignment was and was just painting for the hell of it. Um, that girl in all black gave off a weird vibe. Yea, so not going near her.

I found an empty table near the back, but far enough way from the weirdo. I took my seat and just waited for other classmates to come in or for the final bell to ring as the art teacher, a woman that looked like some leftover '60s flower child, sat at the desk in the front of the room with her nose stuck in a renaissance art history book. One after another the last of my classmates trickled in and the bell rang.

The teacher, who my schedule had listed as Mrs. Miller, put her book down and stood in front of the class. "Class, today we'll be pai-" The teacher began to say until she was rudely interrupted by the sound of the door opening accompanied by heavy bootsteps filling the room. Mrs. Miller whipped her head around so fast that her hair swung around her shoulders so fast it might as well cause her whiplash. "Well, John Bender, it's so good of you to grace us with your presence today."

"Yea, well, I just couldn't pass up the chance to play with finger paints." Bender told our teacher as he strolled over to the empty seat next to me. Stopping in his tracks and spinning 'round on his heel he looked at Mrs. Miller and asked sarcastically, "Oh, wait, or are we finally painting a naked lady holding a bowl of fruit today?"

The flower child art teacher narrowed her green eyes at Bender while sternly telling him, "Please, find a seat John or I'll be forced to send you to Vice Principal Vernon for being late and disrupting class."

"I'll sit down, but only cause I think my new friend'll enjoy my company more then Vernon would on this lovely afternoon." Everyone turned around in their seats and set their eyes on Bender, curious to see who he was talking about when he said new friend. Well, everyone, but that weird girl was looking that is. Of course, I knew he was talking about me. Bender, after reaching my table, flopped down onto the empty stool next to me while smirking and asking a bit sarcastically, "Miss me, Cupcake?"

"Oh, you know I did. I mean I was just gonna die without seein' you; how did I ever survive without your grungy ass in my life?" I sarcastically told him, rolling my eyes once or twice for a dramatic effect.

Bender just gave me a smug like smirk before crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the art supplies like he wanted to make them burst into flames and disappear.

"Since spring is here, we're going to be painting flowers. Class, no painting is too much or too little so just let the muses guide your creativity." Mrs. Miller said in a bit of a light and airy tone before doing a slight spin and going back to her desk."

"I want what she's smokin'." I muttered under my breath. Yea, my art teacher was definitely a left over hippy.

Giving me a serious look, Bender told me, "You want some doobage I can hook you up."

"Oh, how wonderful, you're the candy man." I said, more to myself then to him even tho I know he heard me. Nodding, I told him, "I'll keep that in mind." Looking between him and his blank canvas, I asked, "Aren't you gonna paint?"

"Sure." He answered, picking up a paintbrush and dipping it into some black paint. He drew a line down the middle of his canvas before making little circles around the top of the line. "There, I painted the fucking flower." He told me, pointing to his bland picture before tossing the paintbrush onto the cloth covered table.

"Nice, you're a real Picaso." I sarcastically told him, brushing my light blue tipped paintbrush across my canvas in order to paint the entire thing so my floral scene would have a backdrop.

Bender, most likely out of pure boredom, began doing a balancing act with his stool by rocking it back and forth while gripping the table so he wouldn't bust his ass. I just ignored him and painted. I was no Monet, but at least I could paint enough to get pieces entered into my old school's art show exhibit my sophomore year. It's been a couple of years since I painted anything so I hoped my project turned out okay.

"Damn, Cupcake, you're a regular Bob Ross."

"Shut up."


"So, make any new friends?" Grandpa asked as soon as I shut the door after getting into the truck once my prison sentence um, I mean school day was over.

"I guess. There's this dude that talks to me, told me where to find him and his friends if I want to hang out." I told my grandpa as he pulled away from the school and got onto the main road.

"Ah, so is he nice?" He asked, giving me a slight look before moving his attention back to the road.

"He's the lil shit you almost ran over this morning, so reckon he's a jackass." I chuckled as I looked out the window, watching said lil shit strolling down the sidewalk in a lazily pace. Yea, he must not be in too much of a rush to go home with how slow he's walking.

"I'm sure he's not that bad once you get to know him." I just arched my brow at my grandpa. He chuckled at me before making the remark of, "I mean everyone was scared to hell and back of my grandpa and I thought he was a pleasant person."

I shook my head and rolled my cornflower blue eyes before scoffing, "Everyone was scared of your Grandpa Cap cause he could blow a hole in your head from half a mile away." I snapped my fingers a few times before quickly adding in, "Oh not to mention he was apart of that famous feud."

"That's not the point. What I'm saying is, if you want to hang out with the lil shit then go ahead and do it." He said as we passed by the local grocery store. His nice speech ended with the blunt, but honest, remark of, "You're the new kid; can't be too picky on the friends you get."

"Oh, geez, thanks grandpa." I lightly scoffed, shaking my head and causing my copper hair to lightly fan around my shoulders a bit messily.

"You're welcome." Grandpa smirked at me. Stopping at a red light, he turned to me and asked, "So, other than making a sorta friend how was your day?"

Oh shit… I bit my lip, staring at the red light, before muttering, "I got Saturday detention."

Grandpa's head snapped so fast it almost spun off his shoulders. His icy blue eyes were full of a mix between curiosity and shock as he asked, "What? It was your first day, how did that happen?"

"I needed a history book, the sub who's also the vice principal ignored my request for one, so I walked to the bookshelf and grabbed one and got detention for getting out of my seat." I explained, never once taking my eyes off of the redlight. I was too afraid that I'd see either disappointment or anger in my grandpa's icy blue eyes.

"That vice principal sounds like a peckerwood." My grandpa remarked as the light turned green, causing him to press the gas and make the car take off.

Oh, thank god he's not mad or disappointed at me, but blames that douche Vernon. "He is, grandpa."

"Ah, well, I s'pose you're not in trouble for the Saturday detention since it wasn't you're fault per say, but make sure it doesn't happen again. I don't want to see you shipped off to military school."

"I know, grandpa." I told him, a bit monotoned too, as he turned onto the side street that we lived on.

As we drove down the street, inching towards our house, my grandpa told me in the tone he used when he was making a secret pact with me when I was little, "We're not telling your parents 'bout the detention if they call later tonight to how your day went. Hear me, sweetheart?"

"Yep, I hear ya grandpa." I nodded as he pulled into our driveway. The driveway that was right in front of a modest two-story house with faded white paint and an old fading grey-blue roof.

Silently, we got out of the truck and headed to the small front porch. Grandpa opened the front door and we walked right in. He went to the kitchen to make us dinner while I trudged upstairs to my room to read To Kill A Mockingbird for English. I had already read it last year, but it was my favorite book and I had a personal copy so I didn't mind reading it. Hell, I even had a VHS of the movie too. Since grandpa got me a tv and VCR set up for me in my room maybe I'll watch my tape tonight.

God, I need to look for a job so I can make some money. I mean I can't ask grandpa for too much money since he's on a fixed income (Social Security). And I don't think I'd feel right buying weed fom Bender with my grandpa's money either. Maybe someday this week after school I'll check in with some local diners and stuff; see if they need somebody to wait tables.

Shaking my head to clear my mind, I entered my room and dropped my bag onto the small desk by the door. I took my jacket off and flung it over my chair as I heard my grandpa's deep smoker's voice shout from the kitchen downstairs, "We're having porkchops tonight, Gertie!"

"Okay, grandpa!" I simply called back while going over to the bookshelf next to the desk. I grabbed my book and then went over to my bed that was across the room. I sat down on the blue bedspread, crossing my legs Indian style, and opened up my book. I had three chapters to read, but I didn't mind. I actually liked to read, which might shock people since I don't look like the smart or nerdy type.

When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow. I began to read, knowing I'd get lost in my favorite book and most likely read half of it by time dinner was ready.


AN:

Hope you guys liked this. In time what Gertie did to be expelled will be revealed (ya know during the Saturday detention). So, Gertie's only friend (well smoking associate) so far is Bender. Lucky her, right.