Liberty High School, Seven AM

Craig Taylor pulled his new Volvo to the front of Liberty High School and looked at his son, Justin, with a mixture of aggravation and shame. His son, certainly intelligent enough to bear his name, was delivering one disappointment after another since starting High School. There just was something not quite manly enough about the way his son carried himself. His blond hair was too styled even for the decade of excess it just seemed off. He was too soft, too sensitive, and over-emotional. Craig had convinced himself it was his wife's over-mothering of his son that caused him unease.

"Justin, Dartmouth is not going to accept a discipline problem. You better make this the last time I drop you off at detention. I'm counting on you to man-up."

Justin moved his head to the window to disguise his eye-roll. "I can't believe you can't get me out of this Dad. I mean, I have to waste my entire Saturday!"

Craig shook his head in sympathy. He had tried to use his well-connected network and donation of new computer's to shuffle Justin's indiscretion under the proverbial rug to no avail. If only his wife hadn't insisted on public school for their children this would be a non-issue. If Justin had gone to St. James, as Craig had wanted, buying his way out of these scuffles was practically expected.

Justin threw open the car door and stormed up the stairs into the building of his high school resigned to his fate.

As Craig pulled away in his Volvo, a second car, this one just a beat up light green station wagon with wood grain on the sides arrived at the semi-circular driveway. Inside sat a frazzled woman Elizabeth Schmidt and her four children. The oldest child sixteen-year old Ted, sat next to his mother in the passenger seat looking at the floor too ashamed to look his mother in the eyes. As the other three children fought in the back seat, Ted's mother gave him a stern warning, "You better make the most of this time Theodore Alvin Schmidt!"

Ted straightened the color on his light blue collared shirt and adjusted the black ball-point pen protruding from his shirt pocket hearing the disconcerting sound of his mother using his full name. "Mom, we aren't allowed to study. We just have to sit there", he explained in protest.

Mrs. Schmidt looked at her son scathingly, "You better find a way to study" she warned.

Ted wrestled his book bag from his younger siblings and opened the door which squeaked from the rusted hinges. He stood out of the car and tugged at his khaki pants just a fraction too short from his recent growth spurt. He bent over to tie his year-old, plain tennis shoes and put one foot in front of the other towards the school. He approached the steps, taking a deep breath, before entering the double doors.

Larry Bruckner was a winner. He was all-state defensive end for the Liberty High School Pioneers and as he drove to the school that was the setting for his glory-days he couldn't help but reminisce. Larry was frequently here since Ben started at the school and every time it was a thrill, well except for this time. This time he wasn't coming to watch Ben's basketball game, wrestling match or to see him run cross-country. This time he was dropping his son off for his first detention. The whole thing seemed blown out-of-proportion in Larry's mind. It was a harmless prank; he was actually sort of proud of Ben. He was always such a pacifist, never one to horse around, too strait an arrow for Larry's taste. This detention marked the first time he thought his son and he had more in common than athletic ability. No matter his opinion, there was reputation to consider so a small, cursory lecture was in order.

"Ben" Larry started, "You better not blow your free ride! Scouts will get wind if there are too many shenanigans."

Ben nodded in acknowledgement. "Dad I know"

Larry nodded firmly but added a joke to hint at his true feelings on the matter, "At least learn how to not get caught next time."

Ben chuckled more from a sense of obligation than actual amusement at the comment. He opened the door to his Dad's truck and hopped out of the cab. He reached around to the bed, slinging the paper bag containing his lunch over the edge and grabbing his Letterman jacket from the seat through the open window. He happily jogged into the school and away from his father's expectations for the day. Detention was getting him out of a work out with the old man.

Brian Kinney walked the three miles to his school this morning and arrived just in time to see the school jock jog into the school. What an idiot! Brian thought in disgust ,what kind of kid exerts an effort to go to school on a Saturday?

Brian himself would have stolen his dad's car to get to school if his drunk father wasn't sleeping off his latest bender in the driveway. He was glad his mom woke him up early even if it was by slamming the front door as she left for church. Brian had more than enough time to throw on his favorite jeans and style his shaggy hair so it looked like he hadn't tried at all. He crossed the parking lot, narrowly missing the oncoming car containing a very angry Debbie Novotny and her son Michael.

Brian jumped back onto the curb and watched in amusement as the bright-haired woman smacked her brown-haired, wide-eyed boy squarely on the back of his head. It wasn't the kind of hit that made Brian flinch, it was more symbolic of a loving mother expressing her disbelief that her darling boy had found himself in a peck of trouble than the hard whacks of anger he grown accustomed to.

"Ouch" Michael yelled, loud enough for Brian to hear.

"Well that's what you get" Debbie hollered back.

"Like I don't get enough abuse for being the only gay kid in this school" Michael pouted trying to elicit sympathy from his mother. He didn't care that Brian was obviously listening, everyone already knew Michael was gay.

Debbie kissed her son on the cheek and wiped her smeared lipstick from his face. They exchanged warm smiles that made Brian envious before Jumping out of the car.

Brian followed Michael into the large two-story library. A set of six tables wide enough for two covered the front section arranged two tables to a row. The five detention students filed in one at a time. Justin sat first and recognized Ben from his English class and motioned for him to sit next to him. Brian seeing the handsome blond slumped down into the seat behind the boys. Ted took inventory of his options and sat in the middle table across from Ben. Michael filed in last, taking the seat behind Ted just as Mr. Horner, the homophobic asshole that gave him the detention called them to attention.

"Listen up, you assholes" Mr. Horner started in glancing at the clock that hung above the mystery section of the school book collection. "The time is now 7:06 am. You're mine for the next 8 hours and 54 minutes. During this time there will be no talking…" he stared at Justin Taylor as he spoke.

Ted shifted nervously in his uncomfortable wooden chair shifting to the opposite chair to determine if it was more comfortable until Mr. Horner leaned on his table and stared him down, "….and no moving Mr. Schmidt"

Ted froze in his position at the teacher's warning not moving until Mr. Horner turned his attention to Brian who had placed his feet on his table and leaned back with his eyes closed. Mr. Horner brushed Brian's shoes from their perch, "….and no sleeping" he decreed.

Mr. Horner picked up a stack of plain white paper from the front of the room and passed sheets to each of his five delinquents. "This time we're trying something new. I want a 1000 word essay. An essay is not the same word written 1000 times, mind you. The purpose of this essay will be to explain just who you think you are!

A/N Some credit goes to Lauren C for the plot bunny in her response to my twitter QAF question of the day. I am active on twitter, please follow me at Erin_424 if you would like. Also credit to the creators of the Breakfast Club for the plot lines. I do use some quotes directly from the movie.

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