A/N: Wow! I'm glad you guys like it so much.. I was going to wait until tomorrow to update this (it's my birthday tomorrow! 15, score!) but since you guys like it, I thought I'd give you a treat, haha. Thank everyone for reviewing, it means so much to me!

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Chapter Two: We Were Friends Once

Andy wasn't sure what had gone wrong with his friendship with the Breakfast Club. He thought he'd done everything right. He'd stood up for them with his friends, he'd sat with them at lunch, he'd even skipped wrestling practice one day to walk Allison home because she lived in a bad part of town. But apparently, that just annoyed them. Apparently he was being too "protective" too much like a "father." Well, so what? So what if he wanted to protect his friends? Isn't that what you were supposed to do with friend?

The real trouble started with Claire. All because she wouldn't sit with Allison at lunch. Allison had sat at a lonely table that day and cried. Not sobbing so anybody noticed, but there were definitely tears. He knew, as he had sat down right across from her. She didn't try to hide the tears, but no one else would have noticed them except Andy, Brian, and John. They sat together, like friends were supposed to. Not like Claire.

So he confronted her. Told her exactly what he thought of her and her so called friends and where she could shove them. That was where the real trouble started. Allison had told him to mind his own business, and she could take care of it. She was a big girl, she was fine, Claire could sit with whomever she wanted, but Andy had been there that day. He's seen her cry. He couldn't just let it go. Could he?

Then Mike Tanner tried to beat up Brian, get him to do his homework for him or some other jock bullshit. So, Andy intervened. He did what he was supposed to do, he helped his friend. He told Tanner, his ex-best friend, that he was protecting Brian and Tanner better step off before he got himself hurt. After the confrontation, Andy had turned around and Brian was just glaring at him. Glaring at him. And what had he done wrong, that was what he wanted to know.

And John... he didn't even know what happened to make John hate him, but he did. He spent all of first period glaring at Andy from the back of the room so hard that Andy could feel it in the back of his neck.

"Stupid Breakfast Club," he said out loud, staring at the ceiling of his room. "It was a dumb idea anyway."

"What was a dumb idea?" asked a small, teasing voice from the doorway. Damn it, Andy thought, looking over at his little sister. He could have sworn he'd closed that door.

"Go away, Jenni," he groaned.

"What was a dumb idea, Andy?" she persisted, scrunching her seven year old face into a scowl.

"Mom and Dad having you," Andy answered, instantly regretting it. Jennifer's screeches could be heard all around the house as she ran down the stairs shouting of the injustice he had inflicted upon her. He just rolled his eyes and locked his door, blaring his radio station. He was not in the mood for a lecture from his parents.

He heard his phone ring under a pile of dirty clothes. He dug for it, wondering who would be calling. Not a girl, he hoped, unless it was Allison, but she was still made at him. Hopefully not a guy from the team. Brian and John, maybe? No. They hated him now, too.

"Hello?" he yelled into the phone. Something was said on the other end of the line that he couldn't hear. "What?"

"I said is Andy there!" screamed an unrecognizable female voice that seemed somehow familiar. He was sure that if he turned down the music he would know who it was, but he wasn't ready to hear his father's pounding fists on the door, and threats of grounding if he did not open this door right now. He had to work not to roll his eyes at the thought.

"This is Andy!" he shouted back.

"Oh. What's that noise?"

"Music!"

"Oh..." The voice trailed off. He wasn't sure if she said anything more, or if she just stopped talking, but soon she yelled, "Andy?"

"What?"

"I said Andy!"

Andy smacked his forehead. "No! I mean I heard you not what did you say!"

"Oh!"

"So what were you going to say?"

"I was gonna say this is... uh, I was gonna say it's Claire!"

Andy shut his mouth. He was surprised that she'd have the guts to call him after everything. He didn't say anything, but he also didn't hang up, and he didn't know why. He should have hung up. Or better, he should have just set down the phone and let her yell into his radio. But he didn't. He stayed listening to her, and he had absolutely no idea why.

She seemed to know what he was thinking, and almost instantly launched into an explanation. "I know you hate me, Andy, but... I need a favor."

Andy almost laughed at the audacity, but he stayed cool. "What makes you think I'm going to do a favor for you, huh? What makes you think I'd do anything for you?"

"B-because. Because we used to be friends once, remember? We used to be real close, even if it was only for a little while. You'd do this for Brian or Ally, you know you would. Please, Andy. Do this one favor for me."

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. She'd got him. He couldn't turn down a friend, no matter what kind of jerk they were being. "... what's the favor?"

"Come over."

"What?"

"Right now, come over. Please, Andy, I'd tell you what's going on, but I can't shout it over the phone, okay? Just... it's big and it's important!"

"I can't leave! It's almostten o'clock!"

"Sneak out!" she pleaded. "Please, Andy? I... I need you."

Andy sighed. "Fine. I'm as good as there."

"And don't go to the front, my parents think I'm asleep. Climb up the tree in the back, and the window will be open. Climb through that, it's my room. I'm gonna call Allison, too-"

Thoughts of Allison crying flashed through Andy's mind. He couldn't let her do that. "No! Call... Call Brian. Not Allison. Don't call Allison."

"I don't have Brian's number!"

He gave it to her, and hung up without the usual formalities. She didn't deserve them anyway. Throwing on a pair of old running shoes that wouldn't get ruined in the rain and a windbreaker, he climbed out of the window, thankful for once in his life to live in a ranch house. He turned off the radio before hand, just to hear his father shouting at him to get out of there right now or they'll be no parties next weekend, mister!

His shoes sloshed on the wet ground and he pulled up his hood before running off through the rain, glad that Claire lived only a few blocks from his house. He gritted his teeth and endured the cold, trying to remember the urgency in Claire's voice when she said that it was big and it was important. It better be, Claire Standish. It sure as hell better be.