At some point during lunch time, Andy and Allison managed to take each others eyes off one another long enough recognise that there were in fact others surrounding them, and they weren't closed off in their own little bubble no matter how much they wanted to be. Brian had been trying his hardest not to watch them, his face growing hotter as the moments passed out of pure embarrassment, while Claire made her staring very obvious. She was happy to be sat there, sure, but they really were missing someone glaringly obvious and it was making her feel strange. She never honestly thought she could and would miss John Bender, but at this moment she wanted nothing more than to be having playful banter with him, just like Allison and Andy.

It was Allison who had brought up Bender first. Claire didn't even have to speak about him before everyone else had decided to go find him. The only thing Claire was worried about then was her friends watching her leaving the cafeteria with an athlete, a basket-case and a brain. Her eyes scanned the room as they walked, landing back on her familiar lunch table every few seconds and watching the girls sat at it closely. She would be lying if it she had said it didn't set her a little on edge, and every time one of they moved she felt her stomach jump. The whole walk made her more nervous than John Bender ever had, which was truly saying something. But thankfully they managed to leave the room unnoticed, and Claire could finish holding onto her breath.

Allison knocked past her as they carried on walking.

"I saw you staring at your girly table. If you really wanted to go back to sit with them, you should've," she said, not turning back to look at Claire.

"I wasn't looking at them because I wanted to sit with them again!" Claire grew defensive, a common trait of hers.

"Oh yeah? Then you were worried what they would say if they saw you walking around with us," Andrew joined in.

"And what, you weren't? Give me a break, Andy, don't talk bull."

"Hey, leave him alone," Allison stopped in her tracks and caused Claire, who was too busy looking at Andy, to bang into her. Allison glared at Claire, and Claire met the stare back, pursing her lips and resting her hands on both of her hips.

"How about we all leave-we all leave each other alone and just act nicely, okay?" Brian interrupted, putting his hands in between the girls to separate them and then dropping them immediately once he noticed the stare he was getting from Andy after touching Allison.

"Brian's right…" Allison agreed, once she had stepped away, "We're all on edge today, and it sucks."

"Yeah," Claire joined in. She looked down at the ground, at her brand new boots and hem of her skirt, and scrunched up her face. "I'm really trying, though, you guys." They all seemed to accept Claire's excuse, because they carried on walking, all the while thinking about how hard they were trying, too.

Somewhere in between the main building and the football field, Allison had managed to acquire Andy's arm around her shoulder and his sweater tied around her waist. The weather wasn't too hot or too cold, but the wind was picking up by the time the large field was in sight and Claire could see the goosebumps on Andy's arms. Allison could even feel them against her because he was so close, but she never said anything, so neither did he.

Bender and Claire met somewhere in the middle.

But once the rest of the club had caught up with them, Claire felt overcrowded. It was Brian's idea for them all to sit on the bleachers for the rest of lunch and it was Bender's idea that they didn't cause a scene or draw any attention, because he had a rep to keep up with the 'under the bleachers' crowd. Claire had snorted and remarked that after all the shit he'd given her on Saturday, they weren't actually too unalike, but then he glared at her and she stopped.

When they all sat down, he didn't sit next to her, and it made her feel insecure.

Suddenly, her skirt felt too tight and her jacket made her feel too hot. She held her hands together, clasped in her lap, focusing her attention on everyone whose name wasn't John Bender.

She wasn't sure how he could go from smiling to glaring at her in just a few minutes and thinking about it made her feel even more uncomfortable with the group. It was just typical that on Saturday she could take all the stick he gave her and although she may have shed a few tears over it, in the end it actually made her feel a lot better about herself, because it had been necessary. But now he was avoiding looking at her just as much as she was avoiding looking at him, and she honestly felt like he was being unnecessarily stubborn and mean for no reason at all, other than for the sake of being so. If it wasn't for the others surrounding them, she would've called him out on his bullshit, but she wasn't exactly feeling her usual self today.

It was all his fault. She wanted to blame him for everything all of sudden. It was him that made her nervous to come to school today, nervous to see him because he gave her weird feelings and she hadn't figured out how to approach him. It was him that she couldn't keep her eyes off, even if she was attempting to ignore him, but as the others around her spoke and he lit up a cigarette, her eyes couldn't stop watching as he inhaled the smoke and then exhaled. It was him that had this power all of a sudden to make her feel so disappointed in herself just because he didn't smile at her again and chose to glare again. God, she wanted to hate him so much, but she couldn't.

Before any of them knew it, the bell was going for the end of lunch, and Brian was the first to jump up from his seat. Claire had been so distracted by her thoughts that she had missed most of the conversation going on around her, save for adding a few words here or there, and they had all noticed, though they never said anything about it. Brian gave her a reassuring smile as he put on his backpack and started walking down the bleacher steps, closely followed by Allison and Andy who all wanted to rightfully get to their classes on time. Bender stared at them as they walked, made no signs of moving, but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary. What was out of the ordinary was the fact Claire hadn't moved either, and didn't seem like she would anytime soon. Andy looked back at her.

"You not coming, Claire?"

"I think our princess is above getting to class on time, sporto," Bender added without looking up. Claire narrowed her eyes.

"I'm not the only one who isn't moving," she said.

"Yeah, well, I got somewhere better to be. What's your excuse? Don't want to walk with them?"

"It wouldn't surprise me," Allison added, looking at Claire and smirking, "she didn't want to be seen with us earlier."

"That's not true and you know it! Why are you lying?" Claire's voice was rising and shaking in a way she couldn't control, because she was getting even more upset now.

"Because you're too sensitive, you make it easy," the brunette replied back, then turned away and began across the field, wrapping an arm around Andy's hip and taking him with her. Brian looked again at Claire, at Bender and then jogged over to the pair so he could walk with them back to the main building. Claire stared at the three figures, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her from shouting anything at them or being completely pathetic and crying.

The bench shifted and she looked to see Bender standing up, lighting himself another cigarette as he did so. He didn't even look at her as he began down the stairs, so Claire stood up and marched after him.

"What was that? What is your problem?" she shouted after him.

"My problem?" he looked back at her, pointing at himself, and then threw his head back as he laughed.

"Yes, your problem. How can you just do that? Go from smiling at me to being pissed at me for no reason a second later? How is that fair?"

"Life isn't fair, red, you'll learn that once you're all moved out and you don't have your daddy's pay check supporting you anymore."

"That really isn't fair, you ass. You didn't even answer my question! Answer me!" She raced towards him and hit him gently on the back with her purse, forcing him to turn around to look at her. By now they were in the middle of the field, completely alone for the time being. John Bender finally looked at Claire properly, and her face softened, against her will.

"Because nothing changed! I don't have to treat you any different than I treat anybody else, and I don't need you giving me shit just because you think you deserve some sort of special treatment."

"I don't want special treatment, John, I want to be treated like a person. I don't deserve you to give me shit for doing nothing other than being myself. I'm sorry that I'm rich, I'm sorry that I'm embarrassed about being seen with different people, but that's the way I am," she threw her hands up in the air, "I don't know what else to say!" He took another drag from his cigarette, and didn't respond to her, so Claire gave up. "You know what, never mind. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, John. I wanted to... I don't know, make you happy because I wasn't going to just ignore everyone, you especially. I thought things were different between us but obviously not. But maybe, just maybe, I'm not the only one with my head up my own ass, did that ever cross your mind?"

His eyes widened and his nostrils flared, but he still didn't say anything to her.

"I can't believe this… I can't believe I spent a weekend…" her voice quietened to a mutter, "I fucking lost sleep trying to think of what to say to you."

"What was that?"

"Oh, now you'll talk to me."

"You lost sleep over me?" There was a smile growing on his face, and it made Claire feel nauseous and lightheaded at the same time.

"Don't get any sick ideas," she said, holding up a finger to point at him, as if she was scolding him. By now, Bender looked amused.

"Me? Sick ideas? Cherry, what sort of person do you take me for?"

"The worst kind."

"But that doesn't stop you from thinking about me." Claire folded her arms in front of her, and John mirrored her, as if mocking her.

"No, it doesn't." He nodded, looking her up and down, pausing for a moment as if he was in thought.

"You got somewhere to be right now or do you want to take a walk on the wild side?"

"I'm not that sort of girl!"

"Please, you wish. You take me for some sort of dirty pervert?"

"Yes."

"Funny," he laughed once, then shook his head to move his hair out of his face, "Follow me." Then he turned and began to walk, which didn't exactly give Claire any sort of a choice of whether to stay of go. She glared at his back, but followed him all the same, hoisting her bag strap back onto her shoulder as she went.

John led her back towards the bleacher, and all the way behind them. Claire had never been so far before. Sure, she'd seen what it looked like under there, but only because it was where people would sometimes go to make out privately or go to smoke. The last time she had even been near them was when Heather was dating a jock and Claire was sent to go tell them that they were going to get into serious trouble if they skipped another class to play tonsil hockey again. That was back in freshman year, but two years on the scenery hadn't changed much. Bender was still leading the way, with her trailing behind, so it gave her a chance to look around as long as she still stayed close behind him. She noted the strong smell of tobacco and the heavy amount of litter on the floor, presumably from people sitting above and all of the burners who sat around here, Bender included. As they continued walking, she watched him flick his cigarette onto the ground and stomp it out, then continue walking. Her environmentally inclined girlfriends would have a field day if they had witnessed it.

Eventually Bender reached a group of similar looking guys sitting around, who all acknowledged his presence. Claire came up behind Bender, almost hiding behind him in the best way she could, and immediately felt out of place. There were three other boys, each with varieties of long hair and dark clothing. One guy was wearing a rock t-shirt, another had hair down to his shoulders, and the third looked so off his face that Claire wasn't sure if he was even awake. These must have been the friends Bender briefly mentioned during detention.

She was aware of eyes on her, John's included. She met his stare and smiled politely, and he smiled back. It wasn't friendly, but it was daring. He was daring her to belittle him, laugh at him, daring her to be her usual bitch self, the bitch that he thought she was. But Claire wouldn't bite, and never would've. She was going to prove herself to John Bender, if it was the last thing she did.

"You wanna sit down?" she asked him, motioning over to a space on the floor. She hoped that at least showed him she was willing to try and hang out with him and get along. His face didn't falter as he looked at her-he was so hard to read-and he nodded and then they sat. Claire tucked her knees up and leant back on the grass, and Bender found a metal pole for him to lean his back against. He watched her settle down, making sure she didn't notice him. She didn't seem too bothered to sit on the muddy floor, and she didn't seem to care how much trash was around the dump he called his favourite hang out spot. In fact, he was kind of impressed with her willingness to be with him here, but he would never admit to that. He was still an island in his mind, and he doubted Claire even truly cared.

Before Bender lit himself up another cigarette, he paused to let the other guys know that the red-haired broad accompanying him was Claire, to which Weaver replied with 'I know'. Claire rolled her eyes, but remained interested to know who they all were. It was simple; there was Weaver, of course, Scissors, and Bates.

"Nothing too strenuous to remember, princess," John told Claire. She glared at him.

"Are those nicknames all your last names?" she asked. They all nodded, except for Scissors.

"I don't know why they call me Scissors. It just happened one day and that shit stuck. My real last name is Clarkson, and that's boring as shit anyway." Scissors was the one, Claire noted, wearing the 'Motorhead' t-shirt-a band completely out of her genre of music.

"So, Claire, what's your last name?" Bates, the long-haired one asked.

"It's Standish, but I like Claire." She really couldn't care less what they called her, but the whole last name thing was strange to her. It was so informal, and almost quite 'clique'-y in a way. Sure, none of these guys belonged to a club or had a name to define themselves other than burners, perhaps, but they almost matched each other. Part of her was comforted by it though, because it was nice to see Bender had a comfortable environment to hang around in. It was especially comforting after some of the things he had told her on Saturday. Her eyes flashed to his arm, where he had pulled up the sleeve to show his scars, but yet again none were on show because they were covered by his thick jacket. Her eyes worked their way up his body, lingering on his face as she watched him take another drag from his cigarette. Bender caught her staring, and Claire blushed but didn't look away.

"You staring because you want some?" Claire looked from his face and down at his cigarette, but decided against it. She had tried before, Saturday being a prime example, but Claire really did care a lot about herself and she knew getting into that stuff just wouldn't be a good idea. She quickly shook her head, but remembered to thank Bender anyway for the offer with a smile. "I wasn't talking about the cigarette, princess." Her face quickly shifted into that of a glare shot in Bender's direction.

"Pig!"

John couldn't keep his eyes off of her, and it fucking sucked. She was sat next to him now, having moved around after complaining she couldn't get comfortable, and the short distance between them was intoxicating to him. He hadn't spoken since he'd offered her a cigarette, but Claire was speaking to his friends and actually getting along with them, which was a strange concept to him. He wanted to be pissed off by it, he wanted to tell her to fuck off back to her prissy friends and leave him alone with his, but then he didn't want to spoil anything.

Because as much as part of him hated it, it worked. Having her hang round under the bleachers, just sitting; it worked. As long as she didn't mind it, that was. Realistically speaking, if anything happened between them, there would be a way for them to work. But he didn't want her or anybody to know he was thinking like that, so he pushed the thought out of his mind as he carried on chain smoking and purposely ignoring Claire.

They didn't speak again until the final bell of the day went off, and they both got up to leave the bleachers. Claire had surprised herself in that she had actually enjoyed talking to Bender's friends. The conversations were brief consistently and had no meaning, but she liked it like that. She was finally talking about something other than other people's problems and secrets like she did with her girlfriends, and she genuinely felt like the guys hadn't minded her there once she got a little more settled in. They even began to call her Standish, despite her original protests, which she didn't mind altogether in the end because it made her feel kind of cool, in a different way to how she already felt.

The pair were halfway across the field when Claire broke the silence.

"I liked your friends." Bender nodded, then stopped, and looked over at her.

"Listen, red, this is gonna sound stupid as shit, but I only acted like an ass earlier because I couldn't shake the thought that none of this would work." When Claire didn't say anything, he continued, "I kept thinking, I'm gonna see her, I'm gonna speak to her, but it's not the same with other people around. It's not always a Saturday."

"You thought I'd only speak to you on Saturdays?"

"No, I thought you'd only like me on Saturdays. I didn't think you'd like me today."

"I don't like anyone on a Monday," Claire laughed, trying to turn the conversation into a light hearted one. Bender glared at her, and she stopped immediately.

"I'm being serious, don't fucking laugh at me. I'm trying to talk to you like a person here, remember?" Claire nodded at him, pursing her lips and waiting for him to go on. "I just wanted you to know that, that I don't hate you. None of them hate you, but I bet you think they do because they're just giving you a hard time and you're feeling sorry for yourself."

"It's not nice to always be shouted at and judged because of where I come from."

"Yeah? Well now you know how it feels." Claire looked away from John's eyes and onto the ground, suddenly feeling like his stare was burning. She heard him sigh next to her, but she didn't feel his eyes leave her. "You should get going, princess. Don't keep daddy waiting." John began to walk again and Claire was going to let him go, but she knew she'd always kick herself for it if she did.

"Wait! John, wait," she called after him, jogging to catch up with him again. He turned his head to look back at her and it was immediately encased between both of Claire's hands as she held onto him while she connected her lips to his in such a haste that it would have knocked him off his feet if he hadn't been weighed down by his heavy boots. He could feel the warmth of her slender hands pressed against his cheeks, her rings and manicured nails digging into his skin as her lips moved against his, urging him to move his back against hers. So he did, encircling his arms around Claire's slim waist, holding her against him, her chest against his, and he realised didn't want to let this girl go.

She pulled away before he was finished, and stepped away from him before he could bring her back.

"What was that for?" John asked, trying his hardest not to sound completely confused or blown away, "I was an ass to you."

"I'm sorry, okay? I wanted to kiss you and I'm sorry for being a bitch," she replied, her voice was soft like the feeling of her skin against Bender's rough face.

"I should make you feel like a bitch more often if that's what I get in return." The cockiness was back and as was his smirk, and Claire replied by gently hitting his chest.

"Look, I gotta go for real, I'm meeting with my friends tonight. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You'll see me around." Bender shook hair away from his face, and a glint of something shiny came from his ear. Claire immediately recognised it as her earring.

"Bye, John," she said, her mouth wide with a grin, then began to walk away.

"Later, princess."

John Bender didn't move until Claire had left the field. He didn't even watch her ass move as she walked, though it was very tempting with the skirt she was wearing, because he suddenly felt like he couldn't look at her in that way. No, instead, he watched her red hair bob up and down and smiled at the little skip in her step that she had. Claire Standish reminded him on the surface of every cheesy pop song that had ever been written, but he knew deep down she was more than that. And he actually wanted to stick around to find that girl.