Disclaimer: I do not own The Breakfast Club, nor have I made any money from the writing of this story.

AN: Sorry about this seemingly eternal wait for an update, but after writing the first chapter, graduating high school, and now almost graduating college, I got distracted and didn't feel like writing again. Until now. I hope you all enjoy!

xxx

Andy's dad was grinning as he hopped in cab of the Bronco. After so many years of being accused of being a 'faggot', the youngest Clark son was finally getting his act together and banging something female. As they pulled away from the curve, Clark Sr. turned to his son smiling lecherously.

"So, Andy my boy, who was that hot little number?"

"Aw come off it Dad, she's just this girl. Nothing serious, you know."

"I don't know, she looked like a sweet thing, but you know those are always the feistiest in the sack!"

Seeing his son redden considerably and snap his jaws closed was more than enough reward for the big man. He could remember being this age, being thin and muscular, able to get with any girl he chose at the drop of a hat, fucking around with his buddies after games on Friday nights, getting drunk and playing pranks on the geeks who thought they knew shit…

For the longest time he thought his son must have some sort of deficiency, as he was sort of quiet and kept to himself, had never brought a girl around, and hadn't gotten into any trouble since the start of high school. True, he wrestled and competed well, honing his body and raising his levels of testosterone, but he just didn't seem to have the same interests in getting laid and trashed. Now, he had hope in his son once again, but if he didn't see some results in the next wrestling meet, there would be hell to pay for little Andy.

xxx

Longest fucking ride of my life. I swear to God, one more word out of that nasty motherfucker's mouth about Allison's ass, and I'm gonna lose it!

Andy grumbled incoherently to himself as he threw his backpack on the computer chair in his room. The whitewashed walls, twin bed, and scant posters of NFL players felt sparse, but looking at the floor strewn with gym shorts, tennis shoes, and dirty underwear, Andy felt at home. He sat down on the bed for a moment, wondering if he should take a nap or go for a jog to clear his head.

Deciding on the latter, he pulled on some sweatpants to combat the late-March chill and laced his sneakers, starting to stretch before bouncing his way down the stairs and out the front door. He could hear his father settling into his favorite recliner in front of a loud T.V. in the living room, no doubt swilling his beer and regaling his fragile wife with stories of their youngest son's new sexual conquest. Pushing the old man from his thoughts, Andy jogged slowly to the end of the street, preparing for a burst in speed that would boost his adrenaline and hopefully relieve some stress.

Unwillingly, his thoughts also turned to Allison. He knew that they had connected somewhat, but didn't know what to expect from now on. Would they get together? Would he be able to reconcile himself with the fact that she may be ridiculed from the moment people finally noticed her until they decided she was old news? Hell, he wasn't even sure if he wanted a girlfriend right now, and although it was unfair of him to assume she wanted a relationship just because she was female, he couldn't help the automatic slight repulsion he felt at the thought.

Allison seemed to be the ultimate unknown. He had no idea what she did with her time, other than decide she was bored enough to sit through detention on an otherwise perfectly good Saturday. She seemed to like to create things, draw and shit like that, but he just didn't feel like he could see an average 'Allison day' in his mind's eye. Did she like to go out? Did she exercise? Would she even know what to do in any sort of social situation they might go to together? Fuck! Maybe he was just thinking too much on this.

She hadn't even expressed any interest in being with him in any real sense, so why sweat it? If anything, she was attracted to him, he was attracted to her, and with a combination of deadly teenage hormones between the two of them, maybe his old man's words would come true. Then again, maybe not.

xxx

Claire slowly pulled the razor up her pale legs, rinsing the hair and shaving cream off under the faucet after every pass. After ridding herself of the unsightly body hair, she went about drying and styling her short red hair, smiling at her reflection as she did so. Keeping the single diamond stud in her ear, she placed a thin silver chain with a small, heart-shaped pendant around her neck and carefully applied light makeup to her eyes, cheeks, and lips.

Perfect. Now to decide where she was going to exercise the fabulous looks she was blessed with on a Saturday night. She supposed she had a few options, each having to do with teasing horny boys, getting tipsy, and chatting with her equally beautiful friends while listening to the latest popular music. Too bad she didn't really want to go to any of these places…well, not without the promise of possibly running into that guy, John's friend, that she bought the pot from. Maybe he could hook her up with a better deal now that she new John, maybe not. No one would believe John would waste his time on a goody-two-tease like her.

Ah well. Stubby's it is then. At least she could get buzzed and escape her Daddy's nervous glances and her Mom's mindless droning. God knows her brother didn't have to put up with this shit. He got out before it got really bad, but she didn't blame him for not wanting to come around anymore. His apartment on the Chicago waterfront was a godsend from time to time when she wanted to get away, but she knew living with him was never an option. That would be tantamount to a permanent cockblock for her bachelor sibling, who was young, male, virile, and used his money and talents to acquaint himself with the majority of Chicago's young female population. If anything, though, his friends were always older and cute and thought she was hot, fresh meat. Getting complemented and having things bought for her by handsome older guys was nothing to complain about.

Picking up the phone next to her bed, Claire dialed Stubby to ask about the party and see when she should show up.