A/N: Hey, everyone! :)

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Also, in case any of you are wondering, my birthday was awesome. It was on May 25th and I had a blast! :D

Fun Fact: "The Breakfast Club" was originally supposed to be called "The Lunch Bunch."

Well, I think that's all I wanted to share. It's time for you all to sit back, relax, and enjoy the chapter! :D

Happy reading, everybody! Please review! :) :)


Comrade's POV

The walk to the bathroom was as boring as shit. I walked behind Claire and Andrew, staring dully at the ground with my knapsack tossed over my shoulder and Allison's bag pinned at my hip. Beside me, Roxy was walking with her attention straight ahead and hand placed firmly on Allison's shoulder; and behind us, Brian was uneasily eyeing Bender every few seconds, making sure to keep distance between them. Vernon was in the front, still walking like he had a wedgie with the squeaking of his shoes echoing through the vacant halls.

By the time we strolled by the cafeteria, I jammed my fists into the pockets of my worn out jeans and began to kick around a dented Pepsi can that had been left behind. It clinked against the floor, repeatedly flinging back and forth between my feet like a soccer ball. I could feel the Jock's annoyed eyes puncturing through me as he glared over his shoulder, pursing his lips and biting down on his bottom one to prevent cursing me out in front of the Principal.

"Mr. Alexandrov!" Speaking of the gray-haired devil... "Unless you want another week added on to your current eight, I highly suggest you stop screwing around!"

I rolled my eyes at the old man's back, right before I glanced up at the ceiling in exasperation. Then, as I carelessly clicked my tongue a single time, I flicked up my middle finger.

"Остановить свинчивание вокруг, да?" I muttered under my breath. A vague note of amusement was now laced into my voice. "Похоже что-то мама Бендера говорит ему каждую ночь." 'Stop screwing around, huh? Sounds like something Bender's mom tells him every night.'

Eventually, after passing dozens of secured classrooms and personalized lockers, we arrived at the restrooms. It was about time too, because the redhead looked like she was about to wet herself at any second. Her legs were crossed, her cheeks were flushed, and she was shaking a little in her pricey looking boots. Well, what do you know? Even the 'perfect' Princess of Shitty Shermer blushed from embarrassment.

Dick reached into his blazer and pulled out a small key, almost seeming like he was taking his time to unlock the door to the boys' lavatory before he did the same to the girls'. "All right, I'm going to be waiting right out here. Remember, absolutely no shenanigans of any kind are permitted." Vernon sharply narrowed his eyes, flashing the same warning scowl at the seven of us before taking a few extra glances at me and Bender. I quietly scoffed, and the Principal stared icily at me again before he lured his gaze down to his watch. "Boys, you got four minutes. Girls, you got five. Get to it. Now."

I shot a quick glance Allison's direction. At the same time, she turned her head towards me and raised her eyebrows, as if she was saying, "You don't have to worry. I'll take care of Roxy." I gave a small nod in return, right before I gently rested my hand on my sister's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. After all, this was definitely not the first time she would need assistance in the bathroom; and I could only imagine how uncomfortable that must have been for her to deal with.

Keeping a straight face, I purposely nudged my shoulder into the Diva, shoving her aside. At first, she nearly tripped over her own feet and sent me a look of astonishment; but then, while regaining her balance and straightening herself back up, she narrowed her sassy eyes and glared like she had just caught me rummaging through her purse.

I teasingly shrugged and walked into the boys' restroom, as if I hadn't done anything. Within seconds, Bender, Andrew, and Brian followed. I swear, I've seen plenty of nicer bathrooms in gas stations back in Russia. Posters dating back to some Halloween costume dance - at which Roxy and I weren't in Chicago yet - and last month's talent show decorated the blue-brick walls. The stalls were covered in endless scribbles of graffiti and draped with toilet paper, hanging over the tops and trailing across the tile floor. As for the urinals, most of them were surrounded by small puddles of pee - damn guys at this school really need to learn how to aim - and covered with even more messy scatters of obscene language. Hardened pieces of chewed up gum and rotten Band-Aids were gathered together in some of the sinks; and the mirrors were smudged in dozens of fingerprints.

It looks like Carl never got the chance to clean this part of the school yet. The smell of sweat, decaying lunch meat (don't ask), and - do I even need to say it? - lingered in the air, almost making me cringe.

"This is sick," I sneered in disgust and rolled my electric blue eyes. "I swear, gas stations are provided with far better bathrooms."

"You should know," Bender remarked. A sly grin that just made me want to punch him in the throat curled up on the corners of his lips. "After all, you and your people have to binge drink your vodka somewhere."

At the sound of that, my cheeks instantly flared up. I bitterly narrowed my, gritting my teeth together behind my closed lips. "Keep in mind, John," I tauntingly stretched out the Criminal's name, drenching it in scorn. "I'm really not in the mood to listen to anymore of your bullshit today. You hear me? It's bad enough that I'm going to have to put up with Mr. Vermin being on my ass for the rest of this damn detention. That man is such a freakin' bastard."

Andrew rolled his eyes, his arms crossed. "Well, maybe if you would just keep your smartass opinions to yourself, he would actually consider going easier on us."

I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, right before I mockingly flipped my hair back and turned my head. "Hey. Sporto." I said, putting on a noticeably fake smile. For a moment, I paused, letting the Athlete, the Nerd, and the Delinquent get an eyeful of my staged grin before I allowed my blunt glare to return. "Do me a favor, go choke on a jockstrap." I growled.

Brian's jaw dropped, hanging in disbelief. His sensitive, toddler-like eyes were huge and full of nervousness as he watched the Jock puncture me with a warning scowl. Though, instead of saying anything back, Andrew uncrossed his arms and impatiently shook his head as he began to approach the urinals. Everything became quiet, but it didn't take long for the silence to be shattered.

"Russian Massacre." Bender gave me a rough shove in the back of my shoulder. It wasn't hard enough to inflict any pain, but it did cause me to stumble forward just by a little step. My eyes widened in a mixture of shock and fury, and I slowly spun myself around of my heels. The Criminal was staring directly at me with a murderous glare now plastered on his face. His deep brown eyes were huge, swarming with darkness and looking like they were trying to slither underneath my skin.

Almost instantly, Andrew froze in his tracks and turned back around, just as I viciously scowled back at Bender.

"C-come on, fellas," Brian piped up, clearly still anxious, "let's - uh - keep our hands to ourselves, okay?"

Nonetheless, Bender and I refused to acknowledge him. Andrew, on the other hand, eyed Brian for a couple of seconds, remaining silent before he flicked his attention back over to me and the bitchy Rebel.

"I have a bone to pick with you." Bender sneered. There was still distance between us (thank God for that), but I could easily detect the stale scent of cigarettes on his breath. It was absolutely disgusting - just like everything else about him.

"Yeah?" I sarcastically raised my eyebrows, making them vanish under my bangs. "Get in line, Rebellion 101. In case you haven't been off your dope long enough to notice, half of the people in this pathetic school have some type of problem with me. But do you really think I give a damn?"

Bender took a step closer to me, the bold glint in his eyes growing sharper. "Well, Russian Massacre, if you know what's good for you, you will shut your damn mouth and listen to what I have to say." He shot his index finger out and jabbed me in the chest a single time. "Let's start by stating the obvious, shall we? I don't give the tiniest piece of shit about your ass. I don't care about what you did or how you acted while you were back in Russia. But now that you're here, you better get it through your head that this is my school. Not yours."

I didn't think twice before grabbing his wrist, but before I could tighten my grip more, Bender yanked his arm back and positioned it like he was threatening to backhand me. I could've sworn a piece of me flinched ... and that only pissed me off more. At the sight, Brian stiffened and his eyes expanded once again, making him look like a scared bobble head. As for Andrew, he straightened his lips and tightened his jaw - but I wasn't sure if it was because he was starting to grow uneasy or because he had enough and was getting ready to intervene.

I narrowed my eyes again. "Touch me again and I promise you, I won't hesitate to rip your damn arm out of its socket."

An entertained smirk cracked across Bender's face, and he lightly chuckled. "I'd like to see you try." Then, as he dropped his arm back down to his side, his amusement vanished and his bitter glare reappeared. "Face it, Russian Roulette ... you are all talk and no action."

"Do you really want to put that theory to the test, John?" I asked as I mockingly tilted my head a little to the side.

Bender pressed his lips tightly together, clearly pissed at how I was starting to address him by his first name. Though, instead of reacting to my sarcastic question, the Criminal continued to speak like I hadn't said anything at all.

"With a principal like Dick constantly breathing down my neck and having all of these other pathetic classmates surrounding me, I used to think that this damn place couldn't possibly get any shittier ... but then you showed up." Bender sneered, coldly eyeing Brian and Andrew at the mention of the 'other pathetic classmates' before he turned his attention back towards me. "Whether you like it or not, asshole, you don't belong here. This school isn't for you and it never will be."

His words echoed in my head, stretching around my brain and prodding at my last nerve. It was like he rephrased everything that Andrew had said to him earlier - about how Shitty Shermer wouldn't be any different if he just vanished out of nowhere, - and the Rebel was now using it against me. Even after I technically stood up for him, that son of a bitch was purposely trying to piss me off by telling me that I was the one who really didn't belong here! It was bad enough that I had to deal with what Sporto had said to me earlier. According to him, I could just die and nobody would give a damn; so, I really wasn't in the mood to put up with Bender's bullshit.

"You know what, Bender?" I maintained a monotone voice, but my glare exposed just how angry I was. "Now that I think about it, Jockstrap - for the first time in his life - actually made a pretty good point. You really could disappear forever and it wouldn't matter the slightest bit." After slightly readjusting the strap of my knapsack on my shoulder, I casually shrugged. "If anything, everybody in this school would be able to sleep better at night with you gone."

A familiar, faint spark of hurt shot quickly across Bender's eyes, but his rage overpowered it. "Well, unlike you, I have a real reason to be here. This school needs me, and it sure as hell doesn't need you."

"Right," I sarcastically nodded, despite how his words sent a tiny twinge of discomfort through my body, "that's right, Bender. Go ahead and keep tellin' yourself that. Who knows ... maybe sooner or later, you'll even start to believe it."

The Delinquent impatiently narrowed his eyes at me, but when he didn't say anything back, I flicked my attention over to the Athlete and then the Brain. Both of them were still staring at us, waiting to see what would happen next.

I rolled my eyes, slightly readjusting the strap of my knapsack. "What are you two morons staring at? The show is over." I sneered, right before I turned my head back towards Bender. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to take a leak before Dick says our time is up."

Brian - despite how I wasn't paying much attention to him - straightened his lips and gave me a little, spineless nod like he was apologizing. After that, as if he literally just remembered why we were in the restroom, he quickly waddled into the nearest stall and closed the door behind him. I, on the other hand, nudged past Bender and headed to the stall that was the furthest one back - the last one in the row. However, when I reached the stall, I couldn't help but notice the words 'I don't like Mondays' scraped into the wall. It made me falter a little, bringing back unpleasant memories that made a small piece of me cringe. Dammit, how come that never got covered up yet?

"Hey, Russian Roulette." The sound of Bender's voice snapped me out of it. I tore my attention away from the wall and gazed over at him, already scowling. It was almost like I had forgotten all about the message. "If you're going to take a piss, then why don't you just use a urinal?" Bender asked, the tone of his voice clearly mocking me. "What's the matter? Are you insecure?"

I scoffed, beginning to wonder if I should throw a punch at Bender now and deal with Mr. Vernon later. "Actually, Rebellion 101, if you must know, I'm just looking out for you and Sporto. After all, I wouldn't want to make you guys jealous."

Without waiting for a reaction this time, I entered the graffiti-covered stall and shut the door behind me. After locking it, I slumped back against it and silently drew in a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. My chest wavered a little as the words 'I don't like Mondays' continued to scratch at a tiny section of my brain.

"Come on, Comrade," I muttered to myself as I released the breath I'd been holding, "just ignore it ... it's just a few damn words. They're meaningless ... that phrase means nothing."

I nodded at my own words, taking a moment to draw in a few more comforting breaths before I quickly crossed myself and pushed the message aside completely. It flushed out of my mind - no pun intended, - and after confirming that there were no puddles of urine around me, I dropped my knapsack down to the floor. Then, after I slipped off Allison's sling bag, I lowered myself down onto one of my knees and placed it carefully beside mine. The heavy scents of vodka and cigars almost instantly smacked me in the face, making my nose crinkle.

I knew by heart that the Basket Case was responsible for the smell of alcohol, considering she drank on a regular basis to distract herself from feeling unwanted and becoming bored. But the cigars came from her father - a hotheaded business man who always talked on the phone, wore expensive suits like he was a member of the Standish family, and slept around with God knows how many of his coworkers. He was hardly ever home, but when he was, he was either arguing with his wife or slapping Allison around. There were even some nights when I witnessed the domestic abuse by just looking out my bedroom window.

Though, Allison's mom was a slightly different story. Being the Queen of Denial, she refused to believe that her husband was constantly cheating on her and spent nearly all of her time idolizing nature. She was obsessed with wearing floral dresses, hundreds of beaded bracelets, and translucent scarves around her head. Not only that, but she must've felt compelled to describe auras, bright colors, handicrafts, and how glorious the world was - because that's literally all she talked about. I swear, she spent more time taking care of her massive garden than taking more time to care for her own daughter.

Unfortunately, there were still times - most of them occurring after arguing with her husband - when Mrs. Reynolds would take her anger out on the Basket Case. She would stomp into Allison's room, grab her by her hair or shoulders, violently shake her around, and scream about how she was a mistake that should've been aborted. There were even moments when Mrs. Reynolds would rip up Allison's most recent pictures and throw the shreds in her face when the image was no longer recognizable.

So, if it's not already obvious, there were absolutely no words that could possibly describe how much I despised Allison's parents. They really pissed me off...

Reminding myself that Vernon had given us a time-limit, I opened my knapsack and immediately began to scoop out handfuls of the tampons, lacy panties, and matching bras. It only took me about twenty seconds to unload all of 'merchandise' from my knapsack and jam it into Allison's awaiting bag. I let out a deep breath, relieved that that deed was done, and puffed my bangs out of my face for the millionth time. I'm not trying to sound like the Princess or anything, but taming this hair sounded like a pretty good idea.

I slid off my leather jacket, baring the dozens of scars that were printed on my arms, and tucked it away into my knapsack. After that, I untangled my black-and-green flannel from around my waist and slipped it on. Then, I reached into one of the pockets of my worn out jeans and it luckily contained a hair tie. With it, I pulled all of my hair back and styled it into a small ponytail that rested against the nape of my neck. Damn, sometimes I forget about how different I look with my hair tied back, considering my face was actually able to be seen.

"Two minutes, boys!" Mr. Vernon's voice erupted from the opposite side of the bathroom door.

I rolled my eyes, mumbling some 'polite terms' under my breath in Russian before I helped myself back up from the floor and undid my zipper. When I was finished relieving myself, I zipped my jeans back up, flushed the toilet, and slipped Allison's sling bag back over my head before throwing my knapsack back over my shoulder. Finally, I exited the stall and refused to take the tiniest peek at the message on the wall.

Brian and Andrew were at the sinks, keeping their distance from each other as they washed their hands. Bender must've been in a stall, considering I didn't see him.

The Jock glanced up at the mirror at the sound of my approach, but after seeing that it was just me, he went back to washing his hands like I wasn't worth his time. The Nerd, on the other hand, had just finished and was now trying to the paper towel dispenser to spit out some paper towels by slapping it like a five-year-old girl. Not a day could go by without those lame things getting jammed.

"Oh, come on ... please work, please..." Brian murmured with a childish pleading expression plastered on his face. "I only need one paper towel. Come on, just one?"

I turned my head and stared at him, the look on my face making it look like I was saying, 'You've got to be freakin' kidding right now...'

"Come on, come on..." Brian smacked the dispenser a few more times, resulting in Andrew peeking over and cocking an eyebrow at him. "Please?"

Not knowing how much longer the Dweeb was willing to keep up this annoying one-sided conversation, I had enough. After about another five seconds, I positioned my arm in the shape of a 'V' and rammed my elbow roughly up against the side of the paper towel dispenser. An echoing BANG filled the air, causing Andrew's eyes to widen and Brian to jump back, both clearly from being caught off guard; but I didn't even wince, despite the minor discomfort that was now tingling through my elbow.

The dispenser, as soon as I hit it, finally spit out some paper towels.

"U-um ... thanks." Brian said, staring at me with his bottom lip nervously quivering a little. Though, he tried to hide it by pressing his lips together.

I said nothing back and glanced down at the sink I was standing at. After turning one of the squeaky handles, I cuffed my hands together under the faucet and started splashing some cold water in my face, now trying to clear my mind from my nightmare. It's been five years since that evening happened ... and yet, part of me could've sworn that I could still feel my old man's arm wrapped around my neck, pinning me against him and choking me. I could still hear his intoxicated voice ringing in my head, yelling and toying around with my impatience just like it did when he was actually here.

"Get a grip, Comrade," I thought to myself as I dried my face off with my sleeve, "it was just a stupid nightmare ... just forget about it. That was five whole years ago. No use thinking about it now."

Suddenly, Jockstrap tore a paper towel out of the dispenser, snapping me out of my thoughts. I drew in a sharp breath through my nose, startled for a moment; but after noticing that it was only Andrew, the dark memories of mine and Roxy's past ... and I'm not referring to just the nightmare ... gradually started to bury themselves in my brain to hide for later.

"God, you really need to relax." I grumbled to myself, sounding just as blunt as always. "You're not there anymore ... you're fine."

"Hey, do either of you know what time it is?" Sporto asked, watching as I squirted some soap into my hands and began scrubbing my knuckles. From the corner of my eye, I shot him a cold stare, making it clear that I sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to answer him. In return, he rolled his eyes and glanced over at the Wimp, who had just gotten himself some paper towels.

"Oh, uh ... it's, um..." Brian, after realizing that he was being turned to, glanced down at his watch. "Eleven minutes past ten."

I froze for a second, raising an eyebrow in confusion; but then, I remembered what Brian had done to his watch. He had fiddled around with it earlier, getting it to match the time that was advertised on the library's massive clock. Though, if only he and the other detainees knew that that clock was twenty minutes fast. Hell, even I knew that and I've only been at this school for three-almost-four months. Hopefully, the rest of them will catch on soon.

Andrew, with no particular emotion showed on his face, nodded a little in Brian's direction, as if he was saying thanks.

Then, just as I continued to wash my hands, the sound of a stall door opening caught my attention. I glanced up in the mirror and watched through the glass as Bender strolled out from one of the other further back cubicles, pulling his zipper up in the process. In what seemed like less than a second, he stopped in his tracks and turned his head like he had sensed me staring at him. At first, I thought that he was going to give me the stink eye for having the final word in our argument; but I was proven wrong when his lips transformed into a mischievous smirk.

In return, I rolled my eyes and dropped my attention back down to the sink, washing between my fingers. Whatever he was planning, I wasn't going to let him drag me into it.

"So, Russian Roulette..." Bender spoke up in a rhetorical tone. I shook my head in annoyance, but kept quiet as he continued. "That girl who's with you today ... she's your sister?"

Immediately, I stopped focusing on washing my hands and snapped my head back up, practically giving myself whiplash. My eyes were huge, swarming with deadly seriousness as I stared at the Criminal through the reflection of the mirror. At the same time, Brian stopped drying his hands and slowly turned his head, examining Bender with his eyes overflowing with a mixture of nervousness and shock. Also, Andrew glanced over his shoulder from where he was now standing beside the trash bin and shot the Rebel a solid look that exclaimed, 'Just what in the hell do you think you're doing?'

"Yeah, she's my sister," I sneered, "but I don't recall giving you permission to talk about her."

Bender flicked an eyebrow up, humoring me, and let out a small, mocking laugh. "Why would I need permission to talk about your sister?" At his last two words, he mimicked my accent, making it sound more like he was a broken garbage disposal that was trying to choke down thick sludge.

"Oh, I don't know," I sarcastically raised my shoulders, shrugging as I turned the sink's faucet off, "maybe because I refuse to let assholes like you get any ideas."

At the sound of me using extra emphasis while calling him an asshole, Bender narrowed his eyes and his smirk wavered a little. He slowly began to approach me, taking his precious time with every step as he nonchalantly flipped his hair back and slid his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket. I kept my eyes on the sink and watched the soapy water go down the drain, not wanting to look at the Delinquent for another second.

"What kind of ideas?" Bender asked. I could practically hear his smirk broadening again. "You really should work on getting your head out of the gutter. I was just thinking that she and I could start with engaging in a couple of make out sessions."

I bitterly narrowed my eyes, almost gagging from that mental picture. "Look, I'm not planning on wasting much more of my breath on you of all people," I growled, looking at the Criminal through the glass again, "but you better forget about trying to pull anything with my sister. She's off limits to all three of you." To make my point clear, I also scowled at the Brain and the Athlete before dropping my attention back down to the sink. I can't wait for this damn detention to be over...

"Are you kidding me? Have you seen that body of hers?" Bender snickered. I didn't need to see him to know that the naughty glint in his eyes had grown brighter. "There's no way in hell that a girl with that many curves could be put off the market just because her bitchy brother said so."

I could feel my cheeks beginning to burn in anger. "Shut your damn mouth..." I snarled, keeping my eyes locked on an old Band-Aid that was decaying in the sink.

"I like the way she looks in that little denim skirt of hers. She's got a nice pair of legs," the Rebel remarked, "I bet she's really flexible, if you know what I mean."

Suddenly, Andrew pushed himself off from where he'd been leaning against the wall. "Knock it off, Bender!" He ordered, flashing a threatening scowl. "Talking to him about his sister like that isn't funny! It's sick!"

However, Bender continued, showing no signs of acknowledging Wrestle Mania. I could feel his eyes on me, almost like they were trying to burn through the back of my head.

"Has she ever dug those long ... precious ... perfectly manicured nails of hers into a guy's back and listened to his moans all night long?" Satisfaction began to leak into his amused voice. "I bet she has."

I viciously narrowed my eyes again and tightened my jaw to the point where my face immediately began to ache. "Shut up, Bender..." I sneered.

Brian was still standing as still as a statue with his back up against one of the closer stalls, clutching his crumpled up paper towels in his hands like his life depended on it. His eyes were still large, nervously watching me, Bender, and Andrew like a frightened cat. A bright pink blush was smeared thickly across his cheeks, bringing out their whiteness and exposing just how pure and fragile his mind was.

"I like my girls experienced, Alexandrov." At the word 'experienced', Bender moved a little closer and hissed it inches away from my ear before backing up again. "But lucky for your sister, I am willing to make some exceptions. If she somehow isn't experienced at all ... l will be more than happy to explore every. Last. Inch. Of her innocence."

The corners of my lips tore back, revealing my tightly clenched teeth. My heart was picking up the pace, beating so violently to the point where I could've sworn its outline could be seen through my skin and clothes. This shithead was entering beyond dangerous territory...

"That's enough, Bender!" Andrew exclaimed, just as I smacked my hands flat down against the counter in a miserable attempt to control my rage. "You're making him mad! Back off!"

This time, the Rebel spared a moment to turn his head and stare disdainfully at the Athlete, as if he was saying, 'This conversation doesn't consult you, asshole. Mind your own business.' Bender then glanced back at me, and his devious grin returned to his face as he kept going.

"Her skin looks so soft and and delicate ... but underneath all of those clothes, I bet she's hiding plenty of secret love bites and claw marks from you."

I started to slowly shake my head, scraping the tips of my nails against the surface of the counter. My heart rate was getting even faster, making my chest feel like it was about to explode.

"Shut ... up..." I growled in a much more impatient tone.

At this point, I couldn't tell if Bender was still entertained or beginning to grow pissed at how I was continuously telling him to shut up.

His dark brown eyes hardened like two stones. "Or what?" The Criminal then shoved me in the back, nearly causing me to slip and hit my forehead against the sink. "What will you do, Russian Roulette? Go complain to your sister about me? You know, it isn't my fault that she's probably got more moves than a playboy model ... but I wouldn't mind testing that out for you." He finished with a suggestive wink, just as another perverted smirk curled up on just one of the corners of his lips.

"G-guys!" Brian blurted out, stuttering just like usual. "I - uh - think we should head back to the - um - library now..."

Nonetheless, the closest reaction he got was a glance from Andrew. Other than that, he was left unheard.

I slowly cranked my head back up, glaring fiercely into the mirror. By this point, I felt so hot that it was like I was surrounded by wild flames in the deepest part of hell. My face was beating a violent shade of red, almost perfectly resembling a demon's.

"I'm warning you, Bender..." I seethed through my teeth. "You're already far down on a dangerous path with me ... so I highly suggest that you shut your damn mouth before I make you regret ever opening it."

For a moment, Bender remained silent, watching me with deep satisfaction etched across his smug face. However, as soon as I dropped my attention back down to the sink, I heard the sound of the Criminal's chain jingling at his side as he approached me a little more. The thick smell of his cheap cologne made me almost want to hurl - and that's saying something when you're standing in such a shitty bathroom.

"Speaking of mouths, your sister sure has a big one." Bender spoke up once again, now sounding like he was standing directly behind me - too close for my liking. Then, he decided to kick his lewd remarks up a notch more by leaning a little close to my ear again as he added, "I could tell her a couple of things to do with it."

And that's when I couldn't take it anymore ... something inside of me snapped. In less than a second, I spun around and flew my hand back, curling my fingers into a tight fist before punching the Delinquent at the speed of lightning right in the mouth. Pain electrocuted through my fist, making a piece of me remember the part of my dream in which I had punched my old man; but I didn't even wince. Bender staggered back a couple of steps and flew his gloved hand up to his mouth, releasing a strained groan. I knew for a fact that the impact was strong enough to cause pain, but not enough to fracture anything.

Brian let out a stunned gasp, leaving his mouth gaping open as he threw his hands up to his shoulders like he had just witnessed a robbery. At the same time, Andrew's eyes widened in disbelief, as if he of all people had never witnessed a fight break out between any of his classmates before. Hell, I bet those wrestlers bitch-slapped each other while arguing over who had the best tube socks.

I could feel the wetness of blood smeared across my knuckles; and sure enough, as I watched Bender lower his hand from his face, it was revealed that a river of blood was leaking out from the left corner of his lips. His eyes were larger than I've ever seen them before, drowning in rage.

"What's the matter, John?" I asked as I mockingly tilted my head a little to the side. Minor amusement dripped from my accent. "I'm sorry, did that hurt? Did you feel a little bit of pain? Because that's what worthless shitheads like you deserve!"

Bender's lips tore back, exposing nearly all of his grinding teeth ... and then, he charged me. "You son of a bitch!" The Criminal rammed his body into mine, almost kneeing me in the crotch as he grabbed my arms with a grip of steel. I immediately attempted to pull them away, but I ended up losing my balance from the unexpected tackle and fell back onto the counter. The back of my head slammed into the mirror - surprisingly not breaking it - and Bender leaned over me as he started to dig his sharp knuckles into my stomach and ribs, punching me repeatedly. I let out an ear-splitting scream, feeling the pain surge through my body.

"Get the hell off of me, you asshole!" I bellowed by the eighth punch, right before I backhanded the darker-haired teen clear across the face. An echoing SMACK filled the air, accompanied by a furious "OW!" from Bender. In return, he flung his fist back and plowed it directly into my nose, causing my head to fly back and hit the mirror again. "AH, SHIT!" I yelled to the point where I stung my throat, and I violently kicked Bender in the gut as I added, "DAMN YOU!" He released my wrists and stumbled back, exclaiming every word in the book. Now was my chance to climb off from the counter.

As soon as I did, the Criminal - with his cheeks stained bright red - stopped rubbing where my foot had struck him and started to storm towards me again. At the same time, I didn't think twice before beginning to approach him, already prepared to throw some more punches. Then, just as I thought that Bender and I were going to come face-to-face with each other, the two of us froze in our tracks as Sporto suddenly slid in between us. The shock was gone from his face, as if it was never there, and replaced by utter seriousness.

"You two boneheads are out of control!" he snapped, still sticking to that so-called insult. "Get a hold of yourselves before Vernon comes in here and punishes all four of us!"

Bender and I kept our murderous glares locked on each other, refusing to give the tiniest shit about what the Jock just said.

"Your ass is dead meat, Russian Massacre!" Bender barked, not even bothering to wipe the blood away from his mouth as it continued to rain down his chin. "Do you really think that you can lay your hands on me and get away with it?"

"Well, maybe that'll teach you to think twice before talking about my sister!" I bellowed. I tried pushing myself forward, but Andrew kept holding me back, causing me to result to the next best thing. I straightened my lips, making a small hacking sound and pretending to clear my throat before I spat out a thick wad of saliva. It darted past Jockstrap at the speed of lightning, missing his nose by just a few inches, and splattered wetly against Bender's cheek. Dammit, I was aiming for his eye!

Andrew - clearly aggravated to death by this point - gave me a shove in the chest that was 'a little' harder than necessary. I stumbled back a couple of steps, but continued to watch Bender as he - with his face now practically on fire - immediately started trying to tear his way through Wrestle Mania to get to me. Out of reflex, Andrew pinned his side against the Criminal in some sort of wrestling position in an attempt to keep him back. It worked for about five seconds, despite how he had to eagerly keep his perfectly white sneakers from sliding across the floor. However, after that, Bender roughly nudged Andrew out of the way and lunged at me, yelling in a voice that might as well have been demonic, "I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"

He threw his arms around my waist and rammed his head against my left set of ribs, sending us both toppling down to the floor. Pain electrocuted through my left side, but then rapidly spread all the way up to my head as Bender plowed his fist into my face, slamming me in the cheek and then in the nose again. By this point, blood was gushing from my nostrils and I was screaming every nasty word and insult that I could think of at the top of my lungs in Russian. With no hesitation, I retaliated by punching the Rebel across the face again, right before I reached up and grabbed his shoulders with a solid grip. My nails practically tore into the fabric of his jacket, and I kneed him in the stomach as hard as I could five times in a row. Bender screamed - more from his anger than the pain.

"Guys, stop!" Andrew bellowed as he quickly raced over to where Bender and I were fighting. "This is ridiculous! Knock it off!" Furious, the Athlete grabbed a fistful of my sleeve in one hand and a fistful of the Criminal's in the other. He managed to yank me up onto my ass and Bender onto his knees, but after that, Bender and I - while keeping our vicious eyes on each other - ripped our arms away and shoved Jockstrap so hard that he lost his balance and almost fell back into one of the stalls. Still watching, Brian couldn't help but release an ear-splitting shriek that sounded like it belonged to a five-year-old girl. Though, Andrew managed to grab a hold of a stall door just in time, saving himself from falling headfirst into the murky toilet.

I quickly attempted to scramble back up onto my feet, but Bender reached out and snatched a hold of my shirt, clenching it so tightly in his fist to the point that it looked like his knuckles were about to pop. A loud RIP filled the air as the Delinquent then hauled me back down to the ground, but I didn't care to pay much attention to it. The two of us continued to fire punches, seething and screaming things like "GO TO HELL!" and "YOU'RE DEAD!" in each others faces like tomorrow didn't exist. Unfortunately, just as I was beginning to think that this bathroom break couldn't possibly get any worse, the door flew open and Mr. Vernon came barging in, bellowing, "What in the hell is going on in here?"

"Принял вас достаточно долго, Дик!" I almost instantly exclaimed, now in the middle of trying to break one of my wrists free from Bender's grip. 'Took you long enough, Dick!' I then let out a strained yell as Bender tightened his fingers around my wrist even more, the evil satisfaction in his eyes making it believable that he was trying to cut off my circulation.

At the sight of us - now on the floor with blood splattered across our knuckles, mouths, and noses - Vernon's eyes shot gigantic. "What the - Mr. Alexandrov! Mr. Bender! What in God's name do you think you two are doing?" His voice had reached a new level of fury, and his blazer flapped behind him as he ran over to where we were. "That is enough! Do you two hear me? Enough! Separate right this minute!" Dick grabbed Bender by the back of his jacket and me by my arm, hauling us back up onto our feet and somehow managing to keep us separated as we continued to try throwing some more swings at each other. "All right, all right!" Mr. Vernon barked, remaining sandwiched between us. "That's ENOUGH!"

Reluctantly, Bender and I ceased our fighting and slowly lowered our fists, breathing hard. For a moment, everything was silent. Until...

"What are you two gawking at?" Vernon asked, flickering his furious eyes back and forth from Brian to Andrew. "There's nothing to see here! Go back to the library, don't make a sound, and take your seats, you hear me? Go!"

With no hesitation, the Wimp tossed his paper towels away and hightailed it out of the bathroom with the Athlete almost right behind him. Then, as soon as the door closed behind them, Dick stepped back from me and Bender and crossed his arms over his chest, scowling at us.

"Oh, great," I thought to myself with a sarcastic roll of my eyes, "here comes another lecture..."

"What in the hell do you two think you were doing?" Vernon asked, sneering his words through his teeth like he had caught Bender and I trying to do something dirty. "You two think you were being funny? Just putting on a little show to make yourselves look tough and invincible in front of Clarke and Johnson, is that it? My God, I should've seen this coming from no-good bums like you. Engaging in a fight? On school property? During a Saturday in detention?" At his last rhetorical question, he enhanced the sharpness of his voice to the point where I was surprised that it didn't shatter any of the mirrors and scoffed. "That's a scheme with your names written all over it."

Bender was in the middle of cleaning away the blood from his face with the inside of his jacket, making it look like he wasn't listening. I, on the other hand, rolled my eyes again and dropped my attention down to the floor, cursing under my breath in annoyance.

Vernon sharply narrowed his eyes and placed his hands on his hips. "I've had enough of all of these shenanigans! From here on out, until the end of the school year, I expect to see you both sitting in the library by seven-oh-five every Saturday. No exceptions. And not only that, but I'll make sure that the second I get back to my office, I'll contact your paren-" The Principal stopped, watching as I quickly shot my head back up and made eye contact with him. He was still beating redder than a flame of fire and glaring, but at the sight of my widened eyes, he huffed and reconsidered his words. "I'll contact your guardians and make sure to arrange home visits with them as soon as I get back to my office. I think they would be interested in hearing about this little incident." At his final word, a note of amusement wrapped around his voice, and a cocky smirk curled up on the corners of his lips at the thought of getting me and Bender in trouble.

The Hoodlum scoffed. "Do you really think my ma and old man will give a shit about this?" At first, when he said 'this', I thought he was referring to the fight; but then I noticed that he had pointed his thumb towards me.

I sharply narrowed my eyes, as if they were never huge, and quietly mumbled "Мудак..." under my breath. 'Asshole...' At the same time, the satisfaction on Mr. Vernon's face immediately started to crumble away, exposing the same heartless and bitter glare that was hiding underneath it - just waiting to be seen again. I swear, he was going to wear that look at his own funeral.

"They sure as hell will give a shit when I talk to them about it, Mr. Bender." Vernon snarled. He shot out his index finger and pointed at the Criminal, allowing a couple of seconds of silence to go by before he flicked his attention over to me. "Both of your families will be notified about this little bathroom break immediately. Neither of you are getting off the hook that easy."

"That's bullshit! I didn't even do anything wrong!" I snipped, keeping my eyes viciously narrowed as I motioned towards Bender. "It was this bitch who started it! The only thing that I'm guilty of right now is standing my ground! And you have the nerve of punishing me for committing in self defense? What in the hell kind of school are you running here, Dick?"

The second I addressed him as a bitch, Bender sent me a tense glare from the corner of his eye, warning me that this wasn't over between us.

"You better shut your damn mouth, Mr. Alexandrov!" Mr. Vernon ordered as he roughly jabbed me in the collarbone with his finger. I couldn't help but wince, stumbling back a small step. The Principal's eyes glistened with rage, refusing to tear away from me. "I've had it up to here with all of your bullshit, you hear me? For three months, ever since you first moved here with your sister, all you've been doing is causing mischief and acting like you're on top of the world!" He made a gesture with his arms, indicating that 'the world' was really 'the whole school' in this case.

I vaguely rubbed where his finger had hit me in the collarbone, hiding my shock as he continued.

"Do you actually believe that you own this place, Mr. Alexandrov?" A slight smirk fiddled around with the Principal's lips, and he breathed a quick, mocking laugh. "Do you really think that you are worth something here? You are nothing but a bad seed - a damn troublemaker who's constantly starving for attention. That's all everyone here sees you as and that's how they'll always see you. No matter how 'cool' or 'tough' you think you are, everyone in this school believes otherwise."

I kept my eyes narrowed, staring at him like he didn't have a clue what he was talking about; but on the inside, I could feel my depression starting to seep out of hiding and charge through all of my veins.

"You can either accept that and get a hold of your bitchy attitude," Dick sneered, scowling again, "or for all I care, you can pack your bags and go back to Russia."

And just like that, my whole body tensed up, exposing my shock and making my heart take a huge leap in my chest. My eyes widened - catching a small glimpse of Bender staring at the Principal in utter disbelief as well. I've been told plenty of shitty things in the past, and a mild chunk of them came from my damn classmates and Vernon; but I've never had anything said to me about leaving the state to go back to Russia. After everything that had happened back there, hell would have to freeze ever before I ever agreed to go back.

"All right, that's it!" Mr. Vernon snapped. He finally started to jump his attention over towards the Hoodlum. "This lavatory break is over! Get yourselves cleaned up and get back to the library. I'm going to go call your guardians to schedule those home visits. Hurry up! Shake your tail feathers!" Then, after glaring back and forth from me to Bender for about five more seconds, the Principal turned away and exited the bathroom, mumbling lame insults and a jumble of curse words to himself.

The cold glint returned to my eyes almost instantly. "К черту тебя, Дик..." I snarled under my breath. 'To hell with you, Dick...' After that, as I walked back over to the sinks, I reached behind my head and freed my hair from my now messy ponytail. My whole body ached, especially around my ribs from where Bender wouldn't stop punching me and in the middle of my back, which had slammed against the counter when the Criminal tackled me the first time. I was definitely going to earn some wicked bruises from this fight.

"Черт, этот сукин сын лучше надеяться, что он не работает на меня на улице..." I mumbled, referring to Bender as I studied my reflection in the mirror. 'Damn, this son of a bitch better hope that he doesn't run into me on the streets...' Nearly all of the lower half of my face - from the bottom of my nose, to the bottom of my chin - was smeared in blood. There were also some drops running down my cheeks, but judging how there were no cuts, I assumed that that blood belonged to Bender.

I scrubbed my knuckles clean under the sink's faucet, watching the blood wash off before I cuffed my hands together and splashed the cold water in my face. By the time I finished getting rid of all of the blood, it looked like I hadn't been involved in a fight at all. Just wait until the damn bruises started to form...

When I finished, I dried my face with my sleeve and pulled my hair back again, restyling it into a brand new ponytail. After that, as I made a move to adjust the collar of my flannel, I caught the sight of Bender staring at me through the glass. He had already wiped a majority of the blood away from his face with the inside of his jacket, but there was still some rimmed around his nostrils and dotted along the corners of his mouth. Aside from that, he had also received a small cut on the right side of his face, etched across his cheekbone. It was barely noticeable, but if I had to guess, it was caused by one of my nails.

I narrowed my eyes at him, still pissed about everything he had said about Roxy. "What are you staring at?" I sneered after I finished fixing my collar.

The Criminal skeptically raised an eyebrow. "What happened to your side?" he asked.

For a moment, I froze in confusion; but then, as I glanced down at myself to check to see if Bender was just trying to mess with me, it came to my shocking realization that a part of my white T-shirt had been ripped during the fight. Right underneath my left set of ribs, there was a hole too large to avoid torn through the thin fabric ... and it exposed one of my long, irritated looking, bright red scars.

My eyes shot huge, looking like they were on the verge of popping out of my skull. I quickly pulled my flannel shut, holding it closer to me and crossed one of my arms over my stomach to keep it closed. Dammit, my grandma was going to kill me!

"None of your damn business." I snarled, refusing to look at Bender any longer. Then, without another word, I snatched my knapsack up from where I had dropped it to the floor and stormed out of the restroom, leaving the Hoodlum behind.

I needed to get this scar covered as soon as possible.


A/N: Another chapter complete! :D :D :) :)

This one took a lot of planning out. I hope you all enjoyed it! :) :)

Please review! My goal still stands at getting at least four reviews per chapter. Please share your thoughts! I love feedback! :D :D

ALSO: My family and I are leaving for another week-long trip at the end of June. That being said, I don't know how much time I'll be able to write during that time. Nonetheless, I'm not giving up on this story or any of my writing, so don't worry about that. :)

Happy reading and writing to you all! Stay tuned for the next chapter, everyone! :) :) :D :D God bless!

THE BREAKFAST CLUB FOREVER!