A/N I'm not sure when the next time I will update this will be. But Ill try to get it done before next week. Hope you all like this chapter. I own none of the Breakfast Club characters.

After Claire dropped me off at my mom's I ran upstairs and took a shower. The warm water felt good on my aching knee. I knew I wasn't supposed to run without my knee being wrapped but I didn't have the bandage with me. I didn't think about packing it when I threw my things in my small bag when I got the call about my dad. If I didn't run though I felt flabby and unfit.

As I got out of the shower, dried off and got dressed I thought about Claire. I guess I was a little surprised that she was single and still interested in John Bender. Their relationship during the remainder of high school was less than idyllic. They often fought over little things that blew up into bigger things. She kept him stable for a long time as things began getting worse and worse, if that was possible, with his dad. We all knew he did pot and we took that as a part of who he was, but once his dad beat his mom so bad she was put in the hospital he started doing harder drugs. I heard about it from Claire back then. She came to my house in tears late one night because she found white powder in a baggie in his pocket. We hadn't really talked since that Saturday's detention. As far as I knew she and John kept their relationship pretty quiet. She said she could trust me and told me about how John felt guilty that he wasn't able to protect his mom because he had been out with Claire that night. I didn't know what to say to her. I just held her while she cried.

When she said that the corner at which we ran into each other today was where she and John had a big fight I didn't put two and two together. I'm sure she meant the discussion she was determined to have with him after she left my place that night. Two days later Bender disappeared from school. She came up to me and told me she was worried about him. A month later we graduated and went our separate ways. I didn't even remember how bad he got until just now. That makes seeing him a productive citizen mean even more.

I went downstairs to the smell of waffles and hot coffee. "Morning Andrew," mom said as she came up and kissed me on the cheek. "I hope I made enough food."

I looked at the mountain of waffles and the large bowl of fruit salad on the table and the skillet filled with sausages. "That will be more than enough, Mom. Expecting an army?"

"That used to be barely enough to feed you, your brother and your father. It will take some time for me to get used to the fact I will only have to cook for myself."

"Guess I did eat like a horse back then."

"You needed your nutrition. You may have eaten a lot but you were never a big boy Andrew. You burnt off every calorie you ate wrestling." She paused and looked at me a moment. "Did you hate it?"

"Eating?"

"Wrestling."

I wondered what I should say and she knew I was because she said, "I'm not your father. I'd like to hear the truth. I remember asking you before. I don't remember when but your father jumped in and said that of course you did. Sometimes I worried that you were being pressured into something that you didn't want to do and that Jack was living through you."

"I liked wrestling." She looked at me and gave me the look she would give us boys when we would try to lie about cleaning our rooms. "I did. It just after awhile it was all about winning and not about having fun." I told her through bites of breakfast.

"Your father said you were happy that you were injured."

"I wasn't. Not really. I was glad I didn't have to wrestle anymore but I it was like having a limb amputated. It was such a big part of my life."

Oh my look at the time. It's 10:00. I've got to run out and do some errands. I'm sure you will be okay here. I promise I will be back before the charity lady gets here." I couldn't be that late could it. I had been daydreaming in the shower for at least an hour. I made a mental note to leave my mom some money for the water bill.

"Anything I can help with?"

"You are a sweet boy Andrew but no. Just a few basic things I need to do." With that she grabbed her purse, and car keys and left.

I tried watching TV. I never watched morning TV on a weekday before. I was always busy with classes and working. Disappointing was the least harsh thing I could say about the selection as I flipped through the channels past talk shows, Teletubbies, court reenactment dramas; which were no where near like the real thing, and home shopping. Giving up I poured myself another cup of coffee and headed upstairs. I figured since the charity woman would be coming I could go through my old stuff and see what I could get rid of.

Sitting on the floor I went through what I called my junk drawer. It was the bottom drawer of my dresser but odds and ends were in there that didn't really belong anywhere else. Most of the stuff was old school papers I had written, old school newspapers most of which had a picture of me pinning some guy from a rival school during a meet, and various other reminders of my school days. At the bottom once I had thrown out most of what was in it. I figured if I hadn't needed to look at that stuff in the last six years I didn't need it. All the newspaper articles were just copies. My dad had huge scrap books with the same articles in them. At the very bottom of the drawer was my senior year book.

I opened it carefully and the cover creaked from disuse. A dried carnation fell out; my boutonniere from prom. With that was a picture of me and Cindy Mitchum. She was a junior varsity cheerleader, a sophomore I think but my friends convinced me I had to go to the prom and set me up with her. She was nice but we never talked at all until that night at prom. I wonder if she had a good time or could she tell she wasn't who I wanted to be there with.

I flipped through the book some more. I came across lots of pictures of Claire. She was prom queen and I was voted king. She was in pictures for the French Club, Pep club, and Drama club, and Fashion club. I saw Brian Johnson and wondered what became of him. Out of all the five of us I always assumed that he would be the most successful. Just for the heck I flipped to the academic clubs and there he was front and center in the pictures for the Physics, Math and Latin club. There weren't any of Bender. Unless the one of him flicking off the camera in one of the pictures of the shop class counted. Allison. She was in the art club picture and didn't look like she wanted to be there. Of them all I wondered mostly what had become of her.

The doorbell rang. And the door bell rang again. In my dream however it was a giant mosquito which I was trying to kill as it tried to pierce my heart with its mouth. One more time the bell rang. That time I woke up, panting from my fight with the mosquito. "Coming!" I yelled as I straighted my t-shirt and ran my fingers through my hair trying to make it lay down. Realizing I was drooling in my sleep I wiped my chin on the bottom of my shirt and hoped it wasn't that obvious. The bell rang one more time and I lunged for the door opening it to see the back of a young woman walking down the stairs and approaching a black VW beetle in the drive. I was debating whether to call her back but the car had the name of the organization mom had mentioned on the side. Checking my watch I was surprised to see it was 1:45. "Can I help you?" I asked the woman loudly to get her attention as she opened the car door.

As she turned around my heart stopped. "I'm here to pick up a donation to the Fairfield House." Her voice was so familiar since I dreamed about it consistently over the last years. It was Allison.

Her eyes met mine and I know I saw a flash of recognition but she was professional. She stepped forward and offered me her hand. "Allison Reynolds." I wanted to scream, "It's me it Andy. But I didn't. If she was going to play strangers then I would too. "Andrew Clark."

"Nice to meet you." We stood there for a moment. Then she said, "The donation?"

"Oh yeah, come on in." I lead the way up the three steps and held the front door open for her. She looked good. Her hair was longer than she wore it in school and her make up was softer, more like the way Claire did it for her than how she typically wore it in high school. It gave her a very young look. "Uh... the bags of stuff are upstairs. Ill just go get them. Have a seat."

As she sat on the sofa I went to get the bag. I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror. I looked terrible. I had newsprint on the side of my face from one of the newspapers which served as a pillow during my nap, my white t-shirt was smudged from dust, and my hair still hadn't laid down flat. Quickly I ran into the bathroom and washed my face, combed my hair and then changed my shit. Then I grabbed the first bag to bring it downstairs.

As I neared the top step I heard my mom come in. "Andrew, are you home?"

Before I could answer she must have seen Allison. "Oh hello. You must be Ms. Reynolds. I'm Olivia Clark."

"Nice to meet you."

"I'm sorry I'm late. I didn't think you would be here on time. I just had a few errands to take care of. Did my son show you proper hospitality? Would you like something to drink?"

Bringing the first bag into the room I could see Allison smile. She was so pretty when she smiled. "Andrew, have you seen to Ms. Reynolds?" Leave it to my mom to embarrass me.

"I'm fine thank you Mrs. Clark."

"Olivia please."

"Olivia. How are you doing since your husband's passing?"

"I wasn't doing very well at first but Andrew has been wonderful with helping me. Let me put some tea on and we can talk in the kitchen. If you don't mind that is. Andy, why don't you take that out to Ms. Reynolds's car?"

"Please call me Allison."

I took the bags out to her car and she and my mother disappeared into the kitchen. I guess they wanted privacy to discuss whatever she wanted to tell Allison that she couldn't tell me. Part of me was resentful that my mom could sit there and talk with her yet part of me was also resentful that my mom could talk to her and not to me. They were in there for almost two hours. I paced back and forth trying to relax. Finally they came out and shook hands.

"I was nice meeting you Olivia. I'm looking forward to our next appointment."

"I'm looking forward to it as well. I think my son could benefit from talking to you as well. Do you have time to talk to him today? I know I should have mentioned it sooner but with everything it slipped my mind."

"I don't actually," she said. Then she looked at me. "But if you would like to make an appointment I could see you on Friday. If not you can come down to the Fairfield House at anytime and anyone of our counselors can talk to you."

"Friday is fine."

"One o'clock?" I nodded. "Then I'll see you then. Have a nice day." And with that she was gone.

"She was a wonderful counselor. I feel so much better already. She suggests that I meet with her a few more times but thinks I am handling your fathers passing very well. And she is such a pretty thing isn't she?"

I looked at my mom, "I didn't notice."

"Had you not noticed any harder I would be picking your eyeballs up off the floor." With that my mom headed back into the kitchen.