Chapter 5 – John
John Bender had waked home from detention across the football field as usual. Nobody ever bothered to pick him up, because he never bothered to tell his parents where he was going. Just as he had walked into the house, the phone rang, and his father had yelled that there was "some chick on the phone."
It was Claire.
Cherry.
The Princess.
…She was calling him?
Apparently so.
"I…umm…well I just wanted to know if that kiss meant anything at all to you," Claire asked quickly.
How could she even ask that? It certainly had. "Of course it did, Princess," he replied softly. "I mean, it was short, but…it was a hell of a kiss."
He heard her let out a sigh of relief.
"Did it mean anything to you, Princess?"
"Now what do you think?"
"I dunno what I think. So why don't you just tell me?"
"Ok, I hadn't wanted to tell you this much, but…that was my first real kiss," she blurted.
"Oh." Well that he hadn't known…
"Yeah…and having it come from you made it even better."
John smiled. "Oh really?"
"Yeah, really."
"Well, if you feel you need any practice, I'm sure we could arrange that…"
Claire laughed. "Oh, I'm sure we could. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Well, you know, I figured you'd enjoy it too…" he teased.
"Haha, yeah." They were silent for a minute. "So, John…what do you think will happen on Monday?"
"You mean, will we still be discussing practicing the art of kissing? God, I hope so!" John said, trying to keep the mood light.
"No, I mean…what's gonna happen on Monday? Are we – well mostly me – gonna be able to stand up to our old friends?"
"Dunno. We'll see," he replied. "I guess we'll just hafta –." Somewhere in the house, glass broke, and John heard his father calling his name in a drunken daze. "Oh shit! Fuck…I gotta go," he said to Claire apologetically. "The old man calls."
"Oh…ok. Be careful, John," Claire said, with a worried tone in her voice.
"I'll try. And I'll see you Monday, Princess."
"Alright. Bye John."
"Bye." He hung up, and went to the living room where his father was. "What?" he asked his father, annoyed. "You interrupted me on a very important phone call, Dad."
"Yeah, well, what I gotta say is much more important than anything some blonde-headed slut has to say," his father slurred.
"Red-headed."
"What?"
"She's a red-head, Dad. And she's not a slut," John said, pissed off.
"Right. Whatever. You know, I oughtta teach you how to be more respectful. I mean, when I was a kid, I never corrected my father…"
While his father babbled about respectfulness, John was moving his hair to try and cover up Claire's earring. Unfortunately, it didn't work.
"Hey…HEY! You even listenin' to me?" his father was saying. His eyes narrowed, and he peered closer at John. "You little shit! You stole someone's earring! Get over here, you fucking thief!" he said, and lunged at John. John ducked and stepped back, and his father missed.
"Dad, I didn't steal anything – ."
"Shut up! Thieving bastard, I'll teach you to steal!" his father screamed, and backhanded John.
"DAD! Claire gave it to me!" John screamed back, holding his head where he'd been struck.
His father blinked. "Why would anyone give a useless shit like you an earring?"
"I dunno, Dad. Just quit hitting me."
His father laughed humorlessly. "Why, you a baby?" he taunted. "Can't stand to fight your old man?" He slapped John…hard. "Fuckin' pussy, get outta my sight. And if I ever catch you stealing again, I'll give you a real beating!"
John retreated out the back door, and climbed onto the roof. He felt the right side of his face and winced; that would be a new bruise. He tasted blood from when his father had slapped him, and sighed. This was gonna be one looooooooooong night…
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A/N: Well, there you have it…John's chapter. Hope you liked it! I wrote most of it in the car on the way to NY and on the way back home, so it'll be a miracle if I can read my own writing, lol. The next chapter is gonna be about Monday, and that should be out soon! R/R, and thanks for reading…yet again!
~*~Lauren~*~