Title: The World through the Eyes of a Basket Case
Author: Kristen a/k/a TWBasketcase
Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own The Breakfast Club movie or its characters.
A/N: Here's chapter 11, I hope you enjoy…and please, please R/R, thanks a bunch.
Chapter 11 – Be Careful What You Wish For
I approached the cherry red door with a bit of a bounce in my step; today was Saturday – finally - and after a pretty eventful week I was definitely looking forward to a nice day out with my friends. Claire and John are both sitting in detention today, so I wouldn't be meeting up with them until Bender's show tonight. So Brian had agreed to accompany me to Andy's meet today and I was just knocking on his door to take the walk to Northbrook High.
"Can I help you?" An older dark-haired man asked, puffing on a pipe. I assumed this was Mr. Johnson.
"Um, yes…I was looking for Brian, sir," I replied as politely as I could. I made sure to dress nicely today, in the event I met up with anyone's parents.
"Come on in…he should be down in a moment. I'm Ralph by the way," He extended his hand to me.
I took the gesture politely, "Thanks, I'm Allison."
"Nice to meet you Allison, take a seat in the living room if you like…you can leave your shoes on." With that he turned his back and headed off down a corridor in the opposite direction of the living room…which stood to the right of the foyer I was in.
I shuffled towards the couch and took a look around. The walls were painted dull beige with egg shell white trim surrounding the bottom of the walls. The furniture was plush; it was all off-white and everything matched. There were four frames on the wall ahead of me: one of Brian and a young girl, a wedding picture, one with two older people that looked to be in their sixties, and one with the entire family. Everything in the room seemed to be carefully placed, and it looked as if someone in this house was very picky when it came to having everything flawless.
I blew my bangs up and glanced at my watch, we still had forty-five minutes until we had to be there. Northbrook High was about a half-hour walk away, in the opposite direction of Shermer. I looked in the direction of the stairs - that were conveniently placed at the other end of the living room – just in time to see Brian heading towards me – without his crutches.
"Your foot feeling better?" I asked suspiciously.
"Believe it or not…it must have been pretty minor," he replied nonchalantly.
I nodded my head in approval, "Shall we be on our way then?"
"Of course," he grinned.
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The walk was a nice one, it was a beautiful day out today; the sun was shining and it was relatively warm for the last day of March. Brian and I made steady conversation the whole way there, mainly about anticipation for the wrestling tournament and the music show later on tonight. It was Brian's first for both.
We made our way up the stairs of our rival school, it being the only other school in our small Chicago suburb of Shermer. It wasn't very hard to find the gym; considering the large amounts of people standing in the general direction. I noticed the large variety of uniforms; it must be a pretty important tourney. I saw the red and white colors of St. Mary's High; the black and red of Northbrook; the white and blue of Shermer; and the green and gold of Lincoln Memorial amongst others. Believe it or not, I recognized all the schools from the various school hockey games I attended. I have a hidden love for the sport, and even though I hate school functions I have never missed a game.
"Wow, its pretty crazy in here," Brian commented letting out a low whistle.
"Yeah it is, maybe we can look around and see if we can spot Andy."
"Sure," was his quick reply.
We pushed our way through the crowd keeping our eyes peeled for the handsome, blonde jock. And after several moments of looking around, we came up empty and stopped in front of a water fountain. Brian bent over and began to slurp as the main crowd made its way into the gym. I once again glanced at my watch, and noticed we had about 8 minutes left until the first match. Andy had mentioned to us that he was competing at the very end, so I wasn't in too much of a hurry.
"Is that him over there?" I heard Bry ask while pointing to the right behind my shoulder.
I spun around in the direction he was pointing to and sure enough it was him. The look on his face was pretty tense and he was having a heated discussion with an older man; the same man that had picked him up last Saturday after detention…I'm assuming that would be the lovely old Mr. Clark himself. We approached slowly; we wanted to keep our distance so that we would not be intruding on any personal matters. We got close enough so that we could hear most of the conversation.
"You know Dad; I'm so sick of this same damn speech each and every time I do this! Have you forgotten that I'm your son? Not just some mindless unstoppable athlete! You have to stop pushing me so hard…my knee is getting worse you know, and one of these days you are going to push me so hard I will be done for good!"
"Don't you dare talk to me like that Andrew! Only losers talk that way! Your knee is fine, stop being such a whiner…now you will go out there and win today if it's the last thing I do!" The old man hissed back, not even taking anything Andy said into consideration. I shook my head in revulsion; this guy is a whack-job!
"You know what, dad? I started wrestling because it was something I loved to do…not something I wanted to take over my life! The last year and a half I have hated it! I seriously hope when I'm gone away to school – because I will go as far away from you as I can – I hope that all changes. I want to love wrestling again, and in order to do that I need you away from me. I only hope I can stick these last two months out…"
"That is enough! You have a match to think about, boy! I'm pushing you hard so you can have the motivation to succeed! Now if you think for one second that you are going to hate this, well you are dead wrong, sport! Now that's enough bitching from you, I don't wanna hear anything else about that knee or about not wanting to be here! Now get your ass in that gym and stretch, boy!" The old man interrupted, using that same uncaring tone as before. Brian and I looked at each other and gulped, I guess he was worse than what Andy described him to be.
"Aren't you listening to me, dad? You aren't paying attention to single word that is coming out of my mouth, all you are doing is trying to tell me that my opinion and my input regarding my life isn't important! Well if you don't take that seriously then I'm gonna tell you this…I hope my knee gives today, then all this bullshit is going to blow up right in your fucking face!" Andrew was seething, even more so than he was after all the incidents that transpired this week. Now I have never seen him this mad. With that last word he spun on his heel and stormed off towards us, not even giving us a second glance as he passed. He headed straight for the gym and with that he was gone. I turned to look at his father's reaction…he didn't seem to care at all; he just put his hands in his pockets and followed the direction his son had gone to. I couldn't help but glare at him and when he walked by, he mumbled something like, "What the hell you staring at, you brats…"
I glanced at Brian and he gave me a concerned look, I returned the expression; with that we turned around and quickened our pace towards the gym so we don't miss the meet.
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We ended up grabbing a seat on the bleachers, about the third row from the top. The first few matches were pretty boring, St. Mary's vs. Lincoln; a few other Chicago schools, and Shermer winning three already…I didn't pay too much attention. I focused my attention to the Shermer bench and looked at my extraordinary friend; he still looked pretty peeved, if you ask me. I was pretty worried about him, I hated to admit it. I didn't think he was joking when he had broke down to us about his father and his antics while in detention last Saturday…but to say I was baffled when I actually heard the guy in person would be an understatement.
"You think he's gonna be okay, Ally?" Brian asked, obviously noticing my quiet demeanor and where my line of eye sight was directed.
"I really do hope so Bry," I started as the crowd erupted into a fit of cheers when a Northbrook wrestler took down another Shermer student, "but like he said, it was the same discussion every meet…I don't think I would be able to take that every damn week of my life; I wouldn't be okay."
The crowd roared when the Northbrook wrestler got the pin, Brian rolled his eyes, "Me neither…but I kinda know how he feels too, my parents get the same way with every test and project. But maybe he can use his match as a way to vent his aggression," he finished with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.
I nodded my head and shrugged, "I hope for his opponent's sake that he doesn't."
Our thoughts were interrupted with the referee's voice booming over the speakers of the gymnasium, "…And now up next ladies and gentlemen the deciding match between Shermer High and Northbrook High for advancement to the state finals. The winner of this match will lead his team to the championship tournament that will take place in Chicago, May 18, 1984," the referee announced. The crowd responded with loud cheers for their teams when the referee continued, "Representing Northbrook High School…Bobby Doherty!" The Northbrook fans went nuts for quite some time, sports fans are a little too crazy for my liking, "And representing Shermer High School, two-time state champion…Andrew Clark!" Brian and I stood on our feet and clapped for our friend, giving him the gracious support I know he would appreciate.
We took our seats again when the two wrestlers approached the mats. They shook hands and took their prepared stances; both of them looked very intense and seemed as if they were only looking at each other…like the crowd did not even exist. Now I couldn't for the love of me name one wrestling move or another, but they were quite occupied tossing each other around and grappling for the life of them. Both wrestlers landed very precise moves on each other, and the match looked like it was going even between the two. Out of all the matches so far, this one has already outlasted the others. It seemed as if both wrestlers were having a very difficult time over-powering the other, but I watched on in fascination as they gave it all they had.
Several minutes later, and many hard bumps as well, Andy looked like he was finally getting the upper hand; but that wasn't without both boys getting extremely rough with each other…rougher than any other two wrestlers I have seen today. It was almost as if they were getting so impatient with each other that they were going to pull all the stops to gain control on the other. Finally Andrew lifted the other wrestler high in the air, in a spine buster type move and dropped him to the mat hard…the other boy's head clearly connected with the ground. He covered him for the pin and got the three count. The referee lifted Andy's hand in the air and declared him the winner as the crowd roared; half with loud cheers, and half with loud groans. The rest of the Shermer team left the bench to celebrate with Andy as some trainers came to the floor to check on his fallen opponent. I watched the other boy closely as he rose to his feet with look of sheer madness on his face. I felt bad for him, considering his loss cost his team advancement. I turned to Brian, and like I expected, he was hollering and whistling like a lunatic. I laughed to myself and turned back to the wrestlers.
Something wasn't right. The rest of the crowd was starting to clear to the exit as Shermer celebrated, all except the losing team. They approached their teammate – Andy's opponent – shaking their heads and tsk'ing. As they hassled him, his eyes never left Andy's body, looking as if he was ready to kill. He stepped forward with a crazed look, still not once breaking his eye contact.
"Andy, watch out!" I screamed as loudly as I could. Brian turned to me with a look of confusion, as did Andy, his eyes meeting with mine as I pointed behind him. But it was too late. The other wrestler charged at him, shoulder blocking him right in the back of his knee. His leg connected with the wood gymnasium floor with a sickening thud. I winced at the contact and started jumping down the bleachers toward the floor with Brian in close pursuit. The confrontation was stopped almost immediately by teammates and coaches, but the damage was done; Andy lay on the floor grimacing in pain.
We reached him in a matter of seconds, dropping closely to his side. He grasped his leg, resting his head on the floor with his jaw clenched, but he did not mutter a sound. "Andy, are you okay!" I asked frantically, he nodded his head in response, trying to even out his breathe. I raked my fingers through his hair, trying to help him calm down; Brian knelt closely beside me, trying to talk to him.
"Watch out kids, medics are here," The coach said, placing his hands on our shoulders. We stepped back and watched them closely as they asked him questions, trying to figure out how to help him up without furthering injury. After a few seconds had gone by, Andy's dad finally pushed his way through the crowd demanding to know why anyone let that monster go near his son.
"Get the hell away from me, dad," was Andy's quiet response, everyone turning their heads in his direction at the sound of his voice.
"Pardon me?" His dad replied gulping, looking more sheepish now that everyone heard Andy's command.
"You can meet me at the hospital, but for now just leave me the hell alone…I don't wanna deal with your shit right now." A few teammates and his coaches stepped away after hearing these words, more than likely not wanting to get involved in a family dispute. Surprisingly, however, Andy's dad nodded and backed away, heading towards the exit of the gym.
The paramedics were now loading him on to a stretcher, so that he could sit upright with his legs out-stretched. They were finishing wrapping up his knee to prevent more damage when he turned to us, "I'll be alright guys, it's not broken." He looked down to his feet and inhaled deeply.
"Do you want us to go to the hospital with you?" Brian asked, his voice dripping with concern.
"Nah, its okay…I need to have a chat with my old man when I get there. Um…just go home and get ready for tonight," He said softly.
I nodded and blinked at him, his blue eyes trying desperately to mask the pain, "You still wanna go out tonight?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yeah, I'll probably just have to wear a brace and use some crutches…just tell Claire to pick me up at 7:30," he replied, brushing off our worry. I nodded once again; I didn't wanna push him any further on the subject while he was in this state. I leaned over and kissed his forehead and waved good bye to him as the medics pushed him away.
I sighed and looked at Brian, "This is not good."
"I know, just let him handle it," he replied trying hard to reassure me.
We stood in our place in uncomfortable silence for a few more moments longer before turning to make our exit as well. I really hope he is going to be okay, but after watching him with his father earlier I know he is going to be far from it. Hopefully this night out tonight will be a nice break for him…if he can make it through to tonight that is.
To Be Continued.
A/N – I should have Chapter 12 up for tomorrow, I hope you all are okay with this Chapter…until next time, cheers!