"Do you mind if I turn on the radio?" Riley asked as we pulled onto the highway, her hand ready to turn the dial.

"As long as it isn't any of that pop shit, go ahead." I replied and leaned back in the seat.

She reached over and turned the dial to a station that was playing Motley Crue. She smiled and bobbed her head to the music when I noticed that she was wearing a mood ring on her right hand. It was a deep shade of green that was slowly changing to dark blue.

"Why do you wear that thing?"

"What thing?" Riley asked in curiosity. Her eyes fell on her hand. "Oh, the ring?"

I nodded. "Yeah. It's a lie on a cheap tin band." I had never really believed in those dumb things. They were pointless. Of course, in my mind, a lot of things were pointless. But Riley just shrugged.

"I dunno...it was a gift."

"A gift? Someone actually got you that as a gift?" I questioned in disbelief, narrowing my eyes at her. Those things were cheaper than dirt! Who would have the nerve to buy someone like her (I wonder what I meant by 'someone like her'...) a shitty gift like that?

She cleared her throat and threw me a glance. "I got it from an old friend. He told me that it would help me deal with...with home." I noticed that she was now playing with the ring between her fingers, almost nervously. I had a feeling that I may have touched a nerve. I listened to her go on.

"See, I'd get really depressed whenever something would break out at home. So depressed that I wouldn't wake up for school in the mornings. Sometimes I wouldn't even want to wake up. Anyway, my friend could tell when I was going through something bad. He called them my black days. So one day, we went out for ice cream and he gave me the ring.

"Then he gave me the little paper that tells you what the colors of the ring mean and asked me what color I disliked the most. I said black. Black represented bad emotions. So he put the ring on my finger and told me that whenever the ring was black, he didn't like wearing it because it was such an ugly color. So the ring would remind him of how much he hated feeling so horrible, and he would fill his day with positive things."

I rolled my eyes and looked out the window, crossing my arms. Riley saw me do this and began to blush.

"How touching. You know, you should really sew that onto a pillow. It would make a fortune." I stated, forgetting that I was sitting in the car of the girl who I might have a crush on. I looked over at her and saw that she was now frowning at me.

She sighed and shook her head. "What I was thinking...," She whispered as she stopped at a red light.

"Look, to you it might be a big deal, and that's o-fucking-kay with me. But I don't need some damn piece of tin to tell me how I'm feeling. That's what a brain is for, and believe or not, I do have one."

Riley turned another corner and said, "Well, its nice to know that I can talk to you about things, John. God, I thought you of all people would understand."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded, my fury rising with each word. "You don't even know anything about me! I never told you about my home life, did I?"

Riley made a 'tsk' noise with her tongue and looked at me with disappointment.

"C'mon, Bender, I'm not that unsocial. People have told me about you plenty of times. Do you know that the nurse in the Sign-In line at the hospital told me that I should stay away from you?" She responded with a slight sadness. "And I ignored her!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Why?"

She sighed and pulled the car to the side of the road. Her head was hung like she was ashamed of what she would say. Then, she gave me a genuine look through her beautiful brown eyes.

"Because I like you." She told me quietly. Quickly, she retorted. She must have regretted her words because she shook her head again. "Not like like. As a friend."

Not really knowing what to say and feeling a little let down, I looked up and saw that we were on the corner of Payne Road and Smith Lane. My house was a block away, ironically, so I put my hand on the door handle.

"Look, I don't like being lied to. No one in their right mind would want to be my friend. At least, someone like you." I told her as I opened the door, and she gave me a funny look.

Eyebrows furrowed, she asked, "Someone like me?"

"Yeah," I closed the door, knelt down, and stuck my face in the open window. "That whole renegade bitch thing is just as phony as that mood ring."

She turned the key and the car started. We were quiet for what seemed like forever before she spoke up again, running a hand through her long hair.

"I'm going to visit Brian tomorrow." She declared and waited for an answer from me. When I realized she wanted my response, I raised an eyebrow at her.

"What? You waiting for my approval? You're a big girl, Riley, you don't need me." After I had finished with my remark, I began to walk down the road. "Besides, you should stay away from me, right?"

But as she drove away, I heard her say something to me that I never would have expected to hear so soon. She drove ahead of me, stopped at the stop sign, and stuck her head out the window.

"Maybe I don't want to stay away from you." She said in a barely audible voice. Then she drove away down the road. I kept thinking about what she had said over and over as I walked home. Perhaps I had heard wrong...no. No, she definitely said that. I sighed and pulled out a cigarette. What was her deal? Did she like me, or didn't she?

I hadn't seen Riley at all the next day of school. I figured she was upset with me for being such an ass the day before. I did regret acting like that, but I didn't let it get me down. She'd come crawling back sooner or later...hopefully.

Right now the school was in a huge uproar over the biggest event as Shermer High: Homecoming. Everywhere I went, I heard giddy girls gushing about how romantic the night would be and hopeful guys going on about how their dates would put out. I didn't really think that Homecoming was stupid, but I was the last person at Shermer to even think about going. The point was that no matter where I went, I couldn't escape the talk of the dance.

When I finally thought that I was free of the subject as I walked down to my locker, I was shocked to find that a certain redhead leaning against the door. She was wearing a blue V-neck blouse with a jean skirt and white leggings. Her hair was pulled back with a blue headband, showing off her milky-colored skin and pink cheeks. I crossed my arms when I reached her and leaned against the lockers.

"Either you–," I began before she interrupted me.

"Don't get cocky, John." Claire said in a strangled voice. "Andy went to the hospital yesterday."

I paused. First Brian, now Sporto? Who would be the next Breakfast Clubber to be knocked off? Claire sniffled and turned her head down the hall, away from me. She probably didn't want me to see her cry, though I found that pointless. After all, she had bawled more than once at detention.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked quietly.

Claire put a manicured hand to the bridge of her nose and stifled another cry, and after taking a few deep breaths, she looked at me through teary eyes and said, "Oh God...John, they said he was experimenting with steroids."

This surprised me even more than Claire showing up at my locker. Andy was a great athlete without steroids. Why would he use them when he was so good already? This had to deal with pressure somehow.

Claire cried harder this time. "I feel so horrible, John...I didn't even go see Brian...Do you know why? Because I...I had to give my speech for Homecoming...,"

My blood boiled. No matter what Claire did, no matter how hard she cried, there was always a part of her that would piss me off. She cared more about being fucking Homecoming Queen than Brian. Even I went to go see him. But she was sobbing, and I didn't stop her from falling into my arms. Her chest heaved up and down on mine.

"Go with me to see them." She whispered. "Please. Tonight."