"Rock, rock, rock'n'roll high school
I hate the teachers and the principal.
Don't wanna be taught to be no fool."
-Rock 'N 'Roll High School, The Ramones
That was on a Wednesday. On Thursday, Bender found himself again at Allison's locker, making plans for the two of them for that evening, since Andrew had practice and a football summer training planning meeting, as the school year was drawing closer and closer to its end.
As Bender walked away from her locker, he thought about how, if you really got right down to it, he would have made a great athlete, from a mental perspective. He was the guy who always got a good read on people. That could help him think on his feet in a big game. He knew all about going on the defensive, about being territorial, defending titles, defending yourself and what was yours. That was definitely something any good coach would appreciate. But besides the fact that Bender abhorred the idea of participating in organized sports where he wasn't the one in control, there were two other things that kept him from being another Andrew Clark: his inability to admit when it was time to forfeit the game, and his inability make a decision that was best for the team.
And that was exactly what made him idiotically think that what he said to Claire outside The Hut was not only the right thing for both of them, but how he honestly felt. He really didn't care that she was going to go out with Dan Hogan, but not for the reasons that it seemed. He didn't own Claire, and their fight had proved that they had no business together as a couple, but that didn't mean they couldn't express their feelings in a less serious way. They could still hang out as friends and make out when they were together. It never occurred to Bender that this might be an awful plan, and maybe it was time to forfeit his heart to Claire, and take a real risk for a change.
It was clear to him that Claire would never take him seriously as a…a suitor for her heart (the fight had opened his eyes to the fact that she was a true Princess who'd expect his complete devotion, admiration, and loyalty), and Bender planned to keep things as casual and friendly as possible to prevent himself from thinking otherwise. Even if he failed, he knew that Dan Hogan could never be serious competition for a John Bender. On paper, sure, Dan Hogan was the obvious choice, but in the things that teenaged girls cared about and gossiped with each other about—the things that really counted in a romantic sense—Dan Hogan was no match for a John Bender. So he really couldn't care less how many times Claire might go out with the guy.
Which was why instead of doing the whole "I'm sorry-I'm-sorry-too-let's kiss-and-make-up" that a part of him wanted to do, he did the thing he thought was best for his heart, and for his friendship with Claire. He gave her his okay for them both to move on. They had nothing in common. Been there, done that, why go back?
He was looking forward to going to see Rock 'n' Roll High School that evening with Allison at one of those tiny theaters that showed not-so-new movies, and forgetting all about Claire and how she and the dweebie were trying to turn his life into the last thing he wanted: a high school melodrama.
Andrew, on the other side of school, was beginning to realize the moment of truth that he'd been dreading since detention; the one that he thought maybe he could avoid after Allison had come up with her clever idea, was drawing in on him.
Thinking not with his head, but with his heart, Andrew had put the sketch Allison had done of him up in his locker. He'd been so proud of her, and so proud that she'd thought of him as a worthy subject, that he hadn't been able to resist putting it up. It wasn't as if he was like Claire, who always had her friends crowded around her locker. The most he and his friends communicated in the halls was a nod or yelling to each other from across the hallway, or a pat on the back or punch on the arm. He didn't think his jock friends would ever even notice.
He was wrong.
"Clark! Clark!" he heard his best friend Stubbie coming toward him. Andrew would know his voice anywhere. He turned to look for Stubbie and saw him smiling as he approached in large strides. Andrew never could get away from him, even if he wanted to. Stubbie was not only on the wrestling team, but on the track team as well, and no one could outrun him.
"Hey, Stubbie." Andy said, "How's it going?"
"Dude, I've been searching for you all day. Where ya been hiding?"
Andrew shrugged. "I've been around," was all he said.
"You'll never believe it, there's a scout coming from California to look at me. And, on top of that, there's this cute new cheerleader I'm thinking of asking out, and word is she has a twin sister who goes to one of those artsy private schools. I'm thinking double date, huh?"
Andy swallowed. He knew from talking to Claire that she'd already done a fair amount of lying to her friends to protect her friendship with the Club. He'd been so happy that he'd been able to avoid that so far. But it looked like that had finally come to an end. He didn't believe in auras and seeing into the future and all that stuff that Allison once told him she believed in, but even he had seen this coming.
"Uh, I can't, Stubbie. My dad's taking me out of town to my aunt's cabin for some intense training and all." He lied.
Stubbie had the same look on his face that he often had, Andrew noticed, in geometry class. "But I didn't even say what day, and—"
Andrew looked up at him to see why he had stopped talking, not that he was complaining about not having to answer for that.
That is, until he saw where Stubbie was looking. He was eyeing the picture Allison had drawn of him.
"What the hell is this? Is that supposed to be you?"
"Uh, yeah. Yeah." Andy said. He'd always had trouble lying. It just wasn't in what Bender would call his "run-of-the-mill-white-bread-All-American-Boy-nature".Once was more than enough.
Stubbie laughed. "Real cute, Clark. Who drew it? Your little sister?"
That pissed Andrew off. It took a lot to do that. "You know I don't even have a sister."
Stubbie must have seen the upset on Andrew's face because he stopped laughing.
"It was a joke, dude. Come on, who gave you that? One of the cheerleaders?"
"Lay off, Stubbie."
"It's actually really good. Too good. Almost professional. Like something one of those freaky art kids who wear all black and sit in the back of the cafeteria would have done."
Andrew turned red, and his blue eyes almost closed. "Drop it." he said, trying to sound threatening to Stubbie, as he slammed his locker and they began to walk off.
And Stubbie did drop it. But he couldn't help but remember something he'd heard but didn't want to believe at the time. He was pretty sure their friend Will had said something about thinking he saw Andrew Clark in the art room one day talking up some goth girl.
It wasn't very often that Bender hung out with girls, or anyone really, with no expectations. Mostly because no one gave him the time of day without any expectations of their own. Nobody except Freddie and Saidie, and now, most of the members of the Breakfast Club.
He had more fun than expected at the movies with Allison that night. He realized that his friend Klepto was a lot less crazy than she would have people believe, and Allison realized Bender had a lot more kid in him than the mature version of himself he presented to the world. She thought it was cute, and that it humanized him as more than just the larger-than-life presence he'd seemed when she first met him.
During the movie, it was interesting to both of them to see how they both laughed at the same parts and cringed at the same parts, and during the songs they bobbed their heads in sort of similar ways.
When it was over, they walked out together, pumped and chatting away. "Sporto's not going to try to kick my ass or anything, is he?" Bender asked sarcastically.
Allison smiled that devious smile. "No. Don't worry, he doesn't see you as a threat, criminal." She teased.
Bender gave her as good as he got in the devious look department.
"So, were you surprised to hear that I like this movie, too?" Allison asked.
"Too? What do you mean, too? I never said I liked it."
Allison didn't reply. She just stared at him. Then she finally said, "You said you've seen it eight times. Nine now."
"Okay, fine. I like it. For the music. But I fucking hate it just as much as I like it. Bunch of fucking pseudo rebel punks who have no fucking clue what it means to rock out, and absolutely nothing to rebel against except the big bad teacher hurting their little feelings by insulting the music they pretend to listen to because they think it makes them cool."
"What a tortured soul you are, Bender." Allison teased again. Bender just rolled his eyes.
"Seriously, though, I think that's the whole point. Togar has her panties in a bunch about these kids listening to The Ramones because she's afraid it's turning all the students into a bunch of criminal badasses such as yourself or something. When in reality, they're the whitest, non-badass, squeakiest clean kids ever. I think the point is supposed to be how silly it is to think music can affect a person that way. It's kind of like Vernon. He's too busy hating us for who he thinks we are, to actually look at us and see what we're really like." Allison said, thoughtfully.
Bender shrugged. But then he said, "Well said, Klepto."
After a few moments of silence, Bender kind of laughed to himself and said, "You know, in there, in the movie, what I was thinking? That Tom guy? He kind of reminds me of some weird science-experiment-gone-bad version of a cross between Sporto and Big Bri."
This got a genuine guffaw out of Allison. "Yeah, I see it, too. I don't know; there's something kind of hot about Tom. In a weird sort of way."
Bender smirked at her. "And you know weird, that's for fucking sure."
Allison elbowed him in the stomach. "And let me guess," she said, "You're more of a normal kind of guy. I bet you thought Riff was hot."
"No fucking way. I hate P.J. Soles. She annoyed the hell out of me in that, and in Halloween."
"You're kidding. She's the classic blond beauty. At least, that's what I hear."
"Do I look like I'm the type who's into classic? You know me better than that by now, Klepto." Bender said. As they walked towards the street corner where they would part, Bender continued, before he could even realize the implications of what he was saying, "Besides, I've always preferred fiery redheads."
As he internally kicked himself for saying it, Allison beamed from ear to ear, squeaked a goodbye, and disappeared before Bender could try to cover for what he'd just said.