A/N: Sorry that this fic has been a bit confusing with all of those connections and all. Just to clarify, the girl talking about her parents in the Caribbean wasn't Claire, but just another girl whose parents went on vacation (remember, Claire's parents are still at home).

Chapter Seven: Catalyst

12:55 P.M.

"…and I thought about going with the Wild Plum, but the manicurist said that it clashed with my skin tone since I'm more of a summer than a winter and she suggested that I go with Creamy Nutmeg, so that's what I did."

Bender closed his eyes as tight as he could and brought his shoulders up to his ears in an attempt to block out the sound of 3 girls oohing and ahing over their friend's choice of nail color. He had been trying to block them out for the last thirty minutes, but so far nothing was working. Their teacher Mrs. Baker had handed out worksheets and given them the option of completing it in groups or alone. The girls, of course, couldn't stand the thought of working by themselves and had arranged their chairs in a little circle for some girl talk.

"I think I need to start going to your manicurist. Last time I went, I asked for Summer Rose and she used the Tawny Rose. It looks so bad."

Bender suddenly had a very strong urge to pluck out his eyeballs with a rusty knife. Not having said knife available, he stood from his chair and walked up to Mrs. Baker, who was grading papers at her desk. "Can I have the pass?"

Mrs. Baker, a senile old bat who'd been teaching at Shermer since at least the 18th century, smiled up at him. "Of course."

Bender snatched the wooden bathroom pass from the edge of the chalkboard and walked out into the hallway. He didn't have any particular destination in mind, but thought that he might go out to the bleachers and see if any of the others had grown bored in their classes, too. Chances were, Davis and Billy were back there already, smoking cigarettes and discussing who was hotter, Cheryl Tiegs or Christy Brinkley.

"What are you doing out of class?"

Bender looked up to see Vice Principal Vernon standing in front of him a few feet away. Bender smiled and held up his hall pass. "Bathroom."

Vernon looked almost relieved, which was odd since Bender knew how much he loved to nail stoners like himself to the wall whenever he got the chance. He actually seemed to take some sort of sick pleasure in handing out detentions, suspensions and expulsions. Bender hadn't had too many run-ins with him, but Davis and Billy had told him enough stories about their own adventures for him to be grateful of that fact.

Vernon gave him a curt nod and continued on down the hall, disappearing into the faculty restroom. Bender started walked in the opposite direction towards the football field, then stopped abruptly, turned back around, and headed for the faculty restroom. He stood outside for a moment listening, but when he didn't hear anything, he pushed open the door as quietly as he could and peeked inside. Vernon was in the first stall, his pants pooled around his ankles. Bender released the door, going back out into the hallway. He looked around for a moment, then smirked when he found what he was looking for.

Perfect.

12:57 P.M.

Brian was standing in front of his locker with a small metal box in his hand when the fire alarm went off, nearly causing him to drop the box onto his foot. He looked around wildly, then back at the container in his hands. Suddenly, students and teachers started pouring out of their classrooms, filling the hall and pushing past him, completely oblivious to his emotional state or the contents of the box in his hand.

Brian stood there for a long moment considering his options. He could go ahead and take the gun with him, then sneak off to the bathroom or even an empty classroom. But the idea of doing something like that all alone with so little time to prepare left him cold and scared. Later. He'd do it later when he had more time to think.

Brian stuffed the box back into his locker, closed the door, and joined the throngs of students filing out of the building.

12:57 P.M.

When the fire alarm went off, Allison looked up from her sketchpad and glanced around the room. Her art teacher, Mrs. Stevens grabbed her coat and a clipboard from her desk. "Leave everything here, please."

Allison sighed and stood up from her chair, swinging her knapsack over her shoulder. She followed her classmates out of the room and into the hall, where students and teachers were walking slowly in the same direction. Some of the boys were throwing wads of paper at one another, and a group of girls behind them rolled their eyes at this display of immaturity. It occurred to Allison that no one really seemed all that concerned that the school was, for all they knew, about to collapse into a pile of smoldering rubble. Even the teachers looked bored.

Suddenly, Allison stopped dead in her tracks, causing the girl behind her to plow into her.

"Hey!"

Allison ignored her and turned around, pushing past the students making their way towards the fire exits like a trout swimming into the current. A few people gave her confused looks, but she pretended not to notice, and a couple of minutes later she was back in the art wing where she'd started. She looked around to see if anyone had noticed her breaking away from the crowd, but of course no one had.

Allison smiled to herself and pulled open the classroom door.

12:59 P.M.

Andy stood outside in front of the school building, arms crossed over his chest in a subtle attempt to keep warm. He was wearing only a pair of athletic shorts and a t-shirt, a combination that did nothing to protect him against the cold air outside, but it wasn't like he was going to complain about it or start dancing around like the group of girls to his right.

"Ha! That was awesome!"

Andy looked back to his left, where his teammates Ray and Joel were laughing hysterically. Over what exactly, Andy couldn't be sure, but he could make a decent guess. Two tall, skinny boys in dingy gray gym uniforms were blushing furiously, pulling at their shorts and trying not to make eye contact with any of the people standing around them. Andy bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"Clark!"

Andy looked over at his coach, who was standing a few feet away with a clipboard tucked under his arm. "Yes, sir?"

Coach Dickinson motioned for him to come closer, and Andy stepped forward. "Sir?"

The older man raised his hand up to his chin and looked off into the distance thoughtfully. "About that meet next week…"

12:59 P.M.

Claire pulled her leather jacket closer to her body and looked out over the front lawn, where about half of the school had gathered, separating into tiny clumps of shivering bodies. Next to her, Jenna and her friend Megan were hopping around making little squeaking noises in a desperate attempt to fend off the cold.

"Oh, my God! I should have brought my jacket!" Megan exclaimed.

Claire rolled her eyes and glanced to her left, where a group of jocks were standing, whispering amongst themselves and eyeing a pair of nerdy looking boys standing a few feet away. Suddenly, two of the jocks stepped forward and pulled down the other boys' shorts, letting them fall to their ankles. The jocks started laughing hysterically, and the nerds hurried to collect themselves, red-faced and bewildered.

"Ha! That was awesome!" yelled one of the jocks.

Claire smirked and looked back at Jenna and Megan, who were still hopping around like overactive cheerleaders. Apparently, they had spotted a couple of football players in the group next to theirs and were giggling excitedly, no doubt spurred on by the chill in the air. All around her, people were talking, laughing, shouting, and making fun of one another. For a sharp, fleeting moment, Claire felt incredibly alone, tucked away in a tiny bubble, still and quiet while the world went on around her.

Suddenly, Claire felt an overwhelming need to get away. She looked around at her classmates, who were making their own entertainment as they waited, then over at her teacher, who was speaking with one of the coaches. Claire glanced down at her purse, where Heather's keys glimmered beckoningly from their temporary home. Without considering the consequences, Claire adjusted her purse strap, glanced once more at her teacher, and walked as quickly as she could to the student parking lot.