A/N: It's here! It's here! The detention scene is here! Well, the beginning of it anyway! LOL! Sooooo, when I was first thinking of the idea for this story, I was going to start right with detention, just like the movie. But somehow, that didn't happen. Hmmm.… And in the process, somehow Joe became the Criminal/Bad Boy and Carlos became the Good Boy if not exactly the Athlete.

I guess subconsciously I put them in the roles that suited them best! LOL! I am a Babe, after all! ;) So, the role of Bender will be played by Morelli. Just a reminder that the characters and events will be a little different than the movie (especially Joe and Carlos). However, if you recognize any quotes or scenes, they are clearly from The (original) Breakfast Club! (A LOT of the dialogue is stolen word for word from the movie.)

There is one extra character in detention, just because it seemed to make sense. And although this story has been pretty angst free so far (intentionally), those of you who have seen the movie know that the Princess has kind of a rough way to go during detention. So, be prepared! ;)

Chapter 12

Saturday, October 7, 1995

I groaned when my alarm went off at 5:45. I wanted to roll over and go back to bed, but I knew I couldn't. For so many reasons. First, because Carlos was going to be here at 6:30, and I wanted a shower. Second, because I couldn't be late to detention. Third (and possibly the most important), I didn't want to listen to my mother and her "I told you so" lecture if she thought I was too tired to get up after spending the evening with Carlos.

I drug myself out of bed and groaned the whole way to the bathroom. I got into the shower and stood under the spray, letting the warm water wake me up. I lathered, rinsed, repeated, and then scrubbed myself clean before hopping out. I pulled on my jean skirt, turtleneck, and sweatshirt and then combed through my hair. I knew it was detention and not a fashion show, but that didn't mean that I couldn't look good, right? I added an extra swipe of mascara and checked the time. Almost 6:30! Carlos would be here any minute.

I raced back into my room and grabbed my purse, book bag, and dress bag. I walked down the stairs and heard my parents in the kitchen, eating breakfast. It was Saturday for crying out loud! They didn't have anywhere to go or anything to do! Why on Earth were they up this early by choice?

I peeked my head in the door and grabbed my lunch off the table. "See you later!" I called.

My dad was taking a drink of coffee, but he waved with his other hand. My mother waved with the egg spatula. "We'll see you after detention?" she asked.

I shook my head no. "I'm going over to Carlos's to try on jewelry for Homecoming and then we're going out for pizza or something, I think."

My mom's back stiffened. "What do you mean you're trying on Homecoming jewelry?"

I bit my lip. I didn't think that my mom would mind. The few times that I had mentioned going to look, she had brushed me off, saying that she had other things to do. I figured she just didn't want to look with me. "Well, Carlos has four older sisters and lots of cousins. His mom offered to check with them to see if they had anything I could borrow."

My mother sniffed. "Well, thanks a lot, Stephanie. I guess I can see when I'm not wanted."

A knock sounded on the front door, and I looked through the living room window. I could see Carlos's car parked on the driveway. "Mom, Carlos is here. I have to go, or I'll be late for detention."

She waved me off, frustrated. "Fine, fine."

I winced a little at her tone of voice. "I didn't think you'd mind. If you want me to, I'll tell Mrs. Manoso that you and I are going to look."

She pursed her lips. "It's fine, Stephanie. But I'd appreciate it if you let me help you shop for these kinds of things in the future."

I nodded as I made my way out of the kitchen. "I will. Bye, mom."

I sprinted towards the door and opened it just as Carlos was getting ready to knock again. He dropped his hand and leaned over to give me a quick kiss. "Morning, Babe."

He took my book bag and dress bag as we headed towards the car. "What's all this?"

"Well, the book bag is school work to do during detention, and the dress bag is for your house. It has my Homecoming dress and shoes in it so that I can try to match the jewelry to them."

He grinned and shook his head. "You should see the display that Mama has laid out for you! There are tons of necklaces and other pieces of jewelry waiting!"

I blushed and slid into the car and across the front bench seat. "She didn't have to go to all that trouble!"

He reached over and squeezed my hand. "You have that affect on people, Babe. You make them want to do things for you."

"Oh yeah?" I teased. "What do I make you want to do for me?"

He growled and slid his hand up my leg, just under the hem of my skirt, and answered huskily, "You make me want to do all sorts of things for you and to you."

I took in a shaky breath and looked up at Carlos with wide eyes.

He backed out of the driveway, his hand still resting on my thigh. I bit my lip and laid my hand on his leg, slowly sliding it up his thigh. He groaned and laid his hand on top of mine, halting my upward progress. "I am going to kill Morelli."

"Why?" I asked uncertainly.

"Because I can think of about 82 things I'd like to do with you right now, and none of them include sitting in the school library with an audience for the next 9 hours."

I leaned closer and whispered in his ear. "Show me later?"

He let out a low growl and squeezed my leg. "Count on it, Babe."

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Carlos slung my bag across his shoulder and held my hand as we walked into the school. The parking lot was nearly deserted this early on a Saturday morning, the only other cars belonging to the other detention attendees. We climbed the steps to the school and trudged down the hallway toward the library.

I scanned the room as we walked in. There were two other students already seated at the tables, but I didn't recognize them. A pasty faced, pudgy boy was sitting at the front table. He had blonde hair, and his glasses were sliding down his nose. He smiled nervously at us when we walked in. "Boy, this is something, huh? I've never been in detention before. Have you guys ever had a Saturday detention? My mother went straight to synagogue to pray for me. It's just that I've never been in trouble before, so she didn't know what to do. I mean, the last time I was in the principal's office, I was in third grade. But that was because Joey Kawolski broke my glasses, so it wasn't even my fault." He paused in his rambling to draw in a big breath.

I looked over at Carlos wide eyed. He was trying to smother a grin, but it wasn't quite working. He nodded his head at the doughboy and moved us across the aisle to sit at a table.

The girl at the table behind the doughboy leaned up. "Hey, white girl!"

I turned around startled. "Yeah?" I asked hesitantly.

She leaned her broad, dark frame back in her chair and propped her foot up on the table. "You got a pair of nail clippers? I was gonna give myself a pedicure this morning, but I forgot my clippers."

I tried not to stare at the fluorescent spandex that was stretched tight across her large black chest. "Um, no, sorry. I have a nail file, but no clippers."

She grunted. "Well, I don't think I can file them down, but thanks anyhow." She plopped her foot back down on the floor, and I exhaled a sigh of relief. Her hot pink skirt had been so tight and so short that when she put her foot up on the table, she was very nearly flashing the whole room.

I blinked and turned back towards the front of the room.

A tall, scrawny kid with disheveled brown hair walked in next. He was wearing a flannel shirt and kept his head down, slinking to a seat towards the back. He sat down and laid his head on his arms, never making a sound.

Last to arrive was Joe. When he saw me sitting next to Carlos, he narrowed his eyes at the both of us. "Cupcake," he muttered.

I swallowed hard and nodded back, grabbing for Carlos's hand. Carlos gave my hand a reassuring squeeze as Joe took a seat at the table directly behind us.

Principal Marco walked in then. He wasn't a very tall man, but he walked with the kind of arrogant, self-assured swagger that only an older Italian man has. He crossed his arms over his chest and surveyed the room. Evidently finding everyone on his mental roster present, he nodded his head. "Well, well. Here we are. I want to congratulate you for being on time." He checked his watch. "It is now 7:06. You have exactly 8 hours and 54 minutes to think about why you're here." He fixed his gaze on Carlos and me. "To ponder the error of your ways."

"You may not talk. You will not move from these seats."

He walked around, placing a piece of paper and a pencil on the table in front of each of us. "Alright people, we're gonna try something a little different today. You are going to write an essay of no less than a thousand words describing to me who you think you are. Maybe you'll learn a little something about yourself. Maybe even decide whether you'd care to return here again."

The Pillsbury Doughboy stood up. "You know, I could answer that right now, Sir. That'd be a no. No for me, cause…"

Marco glared at him. "Sit down, Mr. Kloughn."

I bit the inside of my cheek and dug my fingernails into my palms to keep from laughing. Clown? Was that his name? That was terrible! And I thought Dickie was bad!

Marco continued. "My office is right across that hall. Any monkey business is ill-advised." He walked out of the library and headed across the hall.

I looked at Carlos and sighed, leaning back in my chair. A loud clicking noise came from behind me, and I turned around. The plus-sized spandex model had her foot back up on the table. She had kicked off the stiletto boots she was wearing and was now using a pair of scissors to cut her toenails. I looked over at Carlos and saw that he was staring at her with a mixture of horror and amusement. Morelli and the Clown were also watching her trailer park version of a pedicure. When she saw us all staring at her, she flipped us off and went back to clipping her nails.

I turned back around, only to be hit in the back of the head by a crumpled up piece of paper. I whirled around and saw Morelli giving me a sexy grin. I glared back. "Cut it out, Joe!" I ordered him.

He smirked back and raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Why don't you go close that door, and we can have some fun, Cupcake?"

Carlos turned around and gave him a look that would have me pissing my pants if it were directed at me.

"What?" Joe asked innocently. "I just wanted to play a game with you, Cupcake. Remember how much fun we had playing choo choo? I'm up for round two. But this time I have a different train I wanna play with."

I blushed furiously and hissed at him. "Why don't you just shut up, Joe. Nobody here is interested."

Clown looked at us nervously. "Uh, excuse me, guys. I think we should just write our papers…."

Carlos ignored Clown and looked back and forth between Joe and me. "Choo choo?" he asked me quietly.

Joe smirked. "What? You haven't told him that I was the first guy to explore your tunnel, Cupcake?"

I blushed and felt tears prick my eyes, but I was trying not to let him see how much he was upsetting me.

"That's why I call you, Cupcake, you know. So soft and sweet and good to eat…." He taunted.

Carlos stood up, the tendons in his neck standing out, his fists clenched. His face was set in an absolute expression of rage.

I jumped up and wrapped my arms around his waist. I leaned against him and tried to get him to sit back down. "He's just doing it to get a rise out of you. Ignore him, and he'll stop."

Joe smirked. "Cupcake, you couldn't ignore me if you tried."

I rolled my eyes, but Morelli's big mouth kept going. He leaned forward and asked mockingly, "So. Are you guys like boyfriend, girlfriend? Steady dates? Loooovers? Come on, Spic, level with me. Do you slip her the hot… beef… injection?"

"Go to Hell!" I shrieked at the same time Carlos roared, "That's enough!"

"Hey! What's going on in there?" Marco yelled from across the hall.

We all glared silently at each other for a few minutes, and then I turned back around. I was taking deep breaths and trying to calm myself down. God! When had Morelli become such a jerk? Or had he always been a jerk, and I just hadn't noticed it 'til now?

Morelli wandered up and sat on the railing next to my table. "What do you say we close that door? We can't have any kind of party with Marco checking us out every few seconds."

Clown fidgeted nervously. "Well, you know the door's supposed to stay open..."

Joe frowned at him. "So what?" He smirked. "And what kind of a name is Clown anyway?"

The Clown wiped his hand across his forehead. "It's Kloughn- K-L-O-U-G-H-N. Not like the guys at the circus."

Joe rolled his eyes. "My mistake." He leapt down off of the railing and strode over to the door. Fiddling with it, he pulled out a screw and walked back to his seat as the door closed.

I turned, my eyes wide. "Joe! Fix the door!"

He just smirked.

Carlos narrowed his eyes at him. "Fix the fucking door!"

Kloughn joined in nervously, "You should really fix that!"

Joe just shoved the screw down his pants and leaned back, crossing his legs at the ankle.

A few minutes later, Marco banged the door open. "Why is that door closed?" he barked. No one answered him.

Marco turned to me. "Why?"

I took a deep breath and shrugged. "We were just sitting here, like we were supposed to…"

Marco glared at Morelli. "Who closed that door?"

"I think a screw fell out of it."

Marco glared at him. "Screws don't just fall out of doors, Mister!"

Morelli gave him a smug grin. "Screws fall out all of the time. The world's an imperfect place."

Marco huffed out an angry breath and looked at the full-figured black girl. "What happened?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "It just closed, Sir."

He walked back to stand next to the flannel-clad burnout. "Who did it?"

The kid picked his head up. "Whoa, man! You're like totally messin' up my peaceful aura with all that yelling."

Marco stared at him in disbelief and turned around, marching back to the door.

He looked around for something to prop the door open and settled on a folding chair. He no sooner let go of the door, then it knocked the chair out of the way and slammed shut. He kicked the door open muttering and tried a trash can, with similar results. Finally he gave up and let the door slam behind him as he stormed back to his office across the hall.

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The next several hours were a trial. I attempted to do some of the homework I'd brought with me, but my brain was mutinying, saying that it should still be in bed. When I reread the same page from "The Grapes of Wrath" for the third time, I decided it was time to give up. I marked my page and put my head down on my arms, exhausted.

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I woke up around 10:00, when Marco came back in the room to take us all to the bathroom. When we were finished, he led us single file back to the library like we were criminals on a chain gang. He gestured for us all to go back through the door, and then he let it slam shut.

Carlos and I walked back over to our table. He sat down in his seat, and I climbed onto the table in front of him, pulling him closer. He put his hands on my hips, his thumbs tracing circles.

"So what did you want to do tonight, Babe?" he asked softly.

I shrugged my shoulders. "What did you have in mind?"

He tilted his head. "Well, that depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you're actually going to let me spend any money on you tonight."

I blushed and nodded. "OK."

He grinned back at me. "So, a movie? Pizza? Neither? Both?"

I leaned forward and touched my forehead to his. "Whatever you want to do is fine."

He pressed a light kiss to my nose. "I was kinda worried that your mom might have grounded you."

I bit my lip. "She didn't see them." I whispered.

Carlos nodded in understanding.

"But she was a little bit miffed that your mom was gonna help me pick out Homecoming jewelry."

Carlos frowned. "Is it gonna be a problem, Babe?"

I shook my head. "I don't think so." I replied uncertainly.

"Problems with mommy and daddy, Cupcake?" Joe cooed. "Let me guess. They don't approve of you dating outside the Burg."

The black girl behind us perked up and waited for my answer.

"That's none of your business, Joe." I fumed.

"They probably want you to find a nice Italian guy to settle down with, have a few grandbabies. I could help with the pregnancy part, if you want."

I glared at him, but before I could vehemently deny his offer, Kloughn spoke up. "I know how that is. Every time I talk about a girl at school, the first thing my mom asks me is whether or not she's Jewish. I know she wants me to marry a Jewish girl someday, but it's like I can't even date someone who's not Jewish without her getting all upset."

Joe raised an eyebrow at Kloughn. "And this happens a lot? That you have a non-Jewish date? Or any kind of date at all?"

Kloughn blushed. "Well…." He stammered.

Carlos glared at Morelli. "Why do you have to insult everybody? Can't you leave the kid alone?"

Joe shrugged. "I'm just pointing out the fault in his logic. He claims that his mother's problem is that his dates are non-Jewish. I'm just pointing out that it's very unlikely His Royal Jewishness has had any dates, Jewish or non-Jewish."

"Yeah, well. He has a name you know." Carlos leaned over to Kloughn. "What's your name?"

"Al… Albert. Albert Kloughn."

Geesh! Poor kid! He didn't stand a chance! The only thing worse might have been Mortimer.

Morelli rolled his eyes. "My condolences." He told Albert.

The big black girl got up and swung herself over to our table. "So, I'm guessin' that your name ain't really Cupcake or Babe."

I smiled and shook my head no.

"So what is it?" she asked me.

"Stephanie."

She nodded. "And yours?" she turned to Carlos.

"Carlos." He answered.

I looked at her. "What about you?"

"Tallulah Cline. But most people just call me Lula." Her hip was out, her fist resting on it, and she stuck her chin up defiantly as if she were waiting for us to make fun of her.

I just nodded. "Nice to meet you, Lula."

I looked back behind us, at the boy sitting quietly in his seat. "And you?"

He looked shocked that someone was speaking to him. He got up and walked wordlessly up to our table. "What's your name?" I asked him.

"Walter, but most people call me Mooner. Cuz I'm the Moon Man."

I smiled. "Hey, Mooner."

He grinned back.

Joe snorted. "You've got quite the fan club going over there, Cupcake. It's like the beginning of a bad joke. A Jewish guy, a burnout, a Cuban, and a black girl all walk into a bar…"

I flipped him off, and Joe sauntered over, smirking. "Oh! Obscene hand gestures from such a pristine girl."

I glared at him. "I'm not that pristine."

Joe leaned down next to me. "Are you a virgin? I'll bet you a million dollars that you are. Too bad. I could've taken care of that for you last week at the Tasty Pastry."

"Why don't you just shut up?" I growled back at him.

He continued taunting me. "Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth? Have you ever been felt up? Over the bra, under the blouse, shoes off… hoping to God your parents don't walk in?"

I could feel the tears collecting, and I tried to turn away so that Joe wouldn't get the satisfaction of seeing how upset he was making me.

Lula frowned. "Leave her alone."

"Over the panties, no bra, blouse unbuttoned, Calvins in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?"

I bit my lip, and Carlos pulled me down off the table and into his lap. He wrapped his arms around me. "Leave her alone!" he ordered Morelli in a firm voice.

Morelli walked over and stood next to Carlos, puffing his chest out. "You gonna make me?"

"Yeah."

"You and how many of your friends?"

"Just me. Just you and me. Two hits. Me hitting you; you hitting the floor! Anytime you're ready, asshole!" Carlos snarled, standing up. He gently pushed me back down into his chair.

Joe lunged at him, but Carlos twisted him around and had him pinned on the floor in seconds.

Joe grunted, and Carlos let him up, but not before he shoved his knee into his back one last time.

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"I don't think it's such a bad thing to be a virgin." Albert offered, blushing. Of course he didn't. Clearly he was clearly one, too.

Morelli vocalized my thoughts. "Of course you don't, Al. Cuz you're a cherry, too."

Albert wrinkled his forehead. "A cherry?" he questioned.

Joe shook his head. "Shit!" he muttered under his breath. "Yeah, man, a cherry! You know, a virgin!"

Albert blushed. "I didn't say that I was a virgin. Just that I thought it would be OK if Stephanie was a virgin."

Joe smirked. "So you're not a virgin? Really? Name one girl you've ever laid."

Albert's eyes widened. "Um, you wouldn't know her. She lives in Niagara Falls."

Joe nodded. "Of course she does." He turned towards me. "So what about you, Steph? All the guys you ever banged live in Niagara Falls, too?"

I glared at him. "I am not talking about this with you."

Lula nodded. "It's kind of a double-edged sword, isn't it?"

I wrinkled my brow at her. "A what?"

"Well, if you say you haven't, you're a prude. If you say you have, you're a slut! It's a trap. You want to, but you can't. But when you do, you wish you didn't. Right?"

I blushed furiously. "I am not talking about the status of my virginity with you guys!"

Carlos pulled me down onto his lap. "It doesn't matter anyway. Whether she's been with anyone else in the past doesn't mean anything. She's with me now. That's all that matters."

I blushed and buried my face into Carlos's shoulder. I was glad it didn't matter to him, but that still didn't mean that I wanted to tell him whether I was a virgin or not in front of a room full of people. Carlos seemed to understand that, and he didn't say anything further about it.

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Marco slammed the door open, and we all scrambled to get back in our seats. He strode to the middle of the room. "You get a half hour for lunch." Once his official proclamation was made, he turned and headed back towards his office.

We all reached down and grabbed for our bags. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Lula assembling her sandwich. She started with buttered bread, then added Cap'n Crunch. She ripped open two Pixie Stix with her teeth and shook them out over the cereal. Satisfied, she took a second layer of bread and smashed it down on top of the whole concoction. She caught me staring at her wide eyed and grinned. "Hey, don't knock it 'til you've tried it!"

I shook my head and pulled out my own sandwich.

"What kind you got, white girl?" she asked.

"Peanut butter and olive."

She made a face like she was going to be sick. "You won't eat a Cap'n Crunch and Pixie Stix sandwich, but you'll eat that? Sorry, girl, but that's gross!"

I lifted one shoulder and smirked at her. "Don't knock it 'til you've tried it!" I echoed back teasingly.

Carlos shook his head. "Babe, that really does sound kinda gross."

I smiled sweetly at him. "Want a bite?"

He leaned down and nibbled my ear lobe. "Yeah, but not of your sandwich." He whispered huskily.

A shiver went straight down my back as his breath crossed my ear.

TBC

I had originally planned on quitting the story after detention, kind of like the movie. But I've had several people ask (beg, plead) for it to continue through Homecoming, the rest of their senior year, or beyond. Let me know what you think!